stinkysatan
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People who hate Astarion are SO quick to forget his lust for power is derived from being utterly powerless for 200 years. At a point, Astarion confides to Tav that he gave up fighting back against Cazador after he was locked in a tomb for an entire year with no food, no candle light, and no contact with anyone or anything. After that, he was Cazador's puppet, his plaything to dangle around on strings and make him dance. So yeah, when he wakes up able to run freely, see the sun and the living colours of the world again, he would want to grasp every single possible opportunity to become so powerful that nobody, not even Cazador, could ever make him feel powerless again. The point of his character arc is to grow and change. To take power and control of his life back, but to not let it consume him. Astarion is built to be changed and guided by Tav, either for better or for worse, but if you let Astarion become worse then that is something you did, and not something you should outright blame on his character. I'm not saying everyone needs to love Astarion, but please at least understand the complexity of his character before reducing him to a cruel, evil, catty bitch. Because yes, he is a catty bitch, but I think he's allowed to be, after everything he's gone through.
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Astarion last name and age at death
BIG SPOILERS for the Astarion plotline and romance
So, someone translated the text on Astarion's grave and it says
"Astarion Ancunin
229-268 DR"
Then, his addition of
"458DR - "
Which, of course, awesome that we get his last name. But more importantly, HE WAS THIRTY NINE WHEN HE DIED???
Elves reach physical maturity around 25, but are not considered fully matured, emotionally, until ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY FIVE. Which means Astarion was BARELY an adult by any standards when he died. No wonder he's so immature! He never got a chance to really grow up.
And, assuming 458 DR is supposed to be the current year, he's been a vampire for 217 years.
These dates don't really line up with the other things in game and outside lore that say it's 1492 DR, but it's likely it's a mistake in continuity or translation. Though, it's also canonical that most city-states and kingdoms use different year systems relating to their current monarch or other events so there's often a lot of discrepancy between dates, which could also explain it. In any case, while the exact years may or may not be wrong, we can still probably assume the number of years between them is correct.
Poor guy...
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Me: *just barely survived getting sucked dry by Astarion*
Gale: GOOD MORNING *laughs* sooooo here's the thing, one day I'm gonna explode on all of you
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HOLD ME WHILE YOU WAIT ── BLADE
✩ »› SUMMARY: an unexpected visitor from the past shows up for a final goodbye, but you won't let him get away again that easily.
✩ »› PAIRING: blade x fem!reader
✩ »› WARNINGS: HEAVY BLADE & QUINTET LEAK/LORE SPOILERS. hurt/no comfort(?). reader is implied to be a vidyadhara. pet name (tiánxīn (甜心) meaning sweetheart). mentions of death. so extremely selfship coded that im posting late. unedited.
✩ »› NOTE: this was supposed to be a drabble but it's hit 2k. whoops.
you were cold. it wasn't like you to let anger fester in complete silence— especially when it was directed towards him. blade was unsure how to feel about it, as he'd never been a target of your temper. he could tell by the stern grip you had on his wrist, and how you pulled a little too hard on the bandages you were redressing. you were tight lipped, eyes fixated on the wounds that would never fully heal. it was a stark comparison from how tender and gentle you would handle him when he came to you hurt. although, you could argue a few differences in him that you had noticed too.
like how the once dexterous hands you were mending used to create beautiful weapons in years long passed, and now they would never design an ornate blade again. his strands of snow white hair were now so blue they were nearly black. the boyish smile that he always donned as soon as he would see you.. had not once reached his lips since he had first shown up. the person you were helping was just the shell of a man you once knew.
the man you knew was ambitious and resilient. the master crafstman who worked his way from the bottom up in a foreign land was now a skilled fighter who wielded his own blade. you could remember each time he attempted to spar with dan heng– ending up being knocked on his ass and at your door with a new wound for you to patch up. how fitting was it that you were the first one there when he awoke from death's door.
you were there to hear his screams, to sit aside as he healed himself faster than you ever could, to silence the monster that stirred inside him. the first time the mara struck, your power over imagination was finally useful after weeks of just helplessly watching him break and heal over and over again.
and you watched as he lost his memory every time– the way he looked at you in complete and utter confusion. he would hold your gaze until his mind pieced everything together— his bottom lip trembling in relief and his hands cupping your face. while the breath of fresh air you provided allowed him to feel safe, it could never silence those from the nightmares that would plague his mind for days to come.
you hated seeing him in so much pain, especially because there was only so much that you cold to do help him. the mara healed him faster than you could, and it left you feeling utterly useless to watch the cycle start and end on a loop until his body became adjusted to it.
then one day, he was just... gone.
you didn't know what happened, or what was going through his mind. did the mara-strike? did he have another nightmare, only for you to not be there to pull him back to reality? or... did he suddenly realize that he no longer needed you? the need to know these answers nagged at you until you finally broke the silence.
"do you remember me," you started off your question, rolling the bandage over hist wrist, "or did you come here out of instinct?"
he was silent for a moment, staring at nothing in particular. he still refused to meet your eyes, knowing that one small glance was all it would take to find himself remembering all the happy moments that he needed to forget.
"i remember," he finally responded. he always would. every scar, every nightmare, every time the monster took over. he remembered all of it.
he didn't think he could forget the face of someone he once deeply cared for– someone he didn't want to admit he still cared about. he'd never forget the gentleness of your hands, despite you being rough now, or the way your presence alone was enough to ground him.
"then why are you here?" you gritted out, a rigidness in your voice he had only heard maybe once or twice before, and never directed at him.
he didn't know how to answer that. there were several ways to do so, seeing how open ended it was. of course, he knew you didn't mean why was he on the luofu, but why he had sought you out after all this time. he could lie and say it was instinct, or that he just felt like taking a trip down memory lane. to tell the truth would be opening a door of emotions he had suppressed for centuries, which lead to vulnerability.
because the truth was, he missed you. he missed how whole he used to feel– how human he was. he missed the peace he could get only from you. while kafka could temporarily silence the hidden monster, you could put it to sleep. and he wanted to feel completely human one last time before his life could finally end.
his silence was a good enough of answer for you.
slowly, you let go of his hand, letting his arm drop to his side. before you could stand, he let his head drop and rest on your shoulder. you stiffened, sharply inhaling at the sudden urge to pull him closer. his breath wavered, realizing the rift between you two couldn't be sewn up by history. you two had a lot of history, and yet you still weren't sure that's what the two of you were now.
you almost smiled, looking back on the days when everything felt so… right in the world. if you indulged those memories, you knew you'd break your resolve.
though it seemed your mind wouldn't allow you to escape it as soon as it felt your longing.
glimpses of the instant connection between the two of you when you first met, helping him at his workshop instead of doing your duties as an elder, watching the sunset together as you sat atop the jade gate, putting paper flower crowns on his soft hair. all the little moments and the big one's briefly flashing before your eyes.
you remembered when he had first moved to luofu. you'd been sent to the artisanship commission when they requested medical attention for a collapsed resident, tending to the outworlder who had gone days without eating and a solid eight hours of sleep. you normally would have lectured him on taking better care of himself, but you couldn't help how shy he'd made you feel with just a sheepish smile. you simply ordered him to bed rest for a few days, which he in turn spent waiting outside of the alchemy commission for you to get a break so he could treat you to lunch or tea.
what started as a few innocent dates blossomed into a romance that was doomed from the start. a human and a life long species were never meant to last. most on the luofu saw humans as ordinary, and you saw those who resided in the luofu as reckless and chasing a dream they could never achieve. he changed that.
he changed so many of your outlooks just by being himself. he made you see the beauty of a human life, and how one lifecycle wasn't inferior to another. he'd shown you the true meaning behind the beauty of the world with just the warmth from his soul.
a warmth that was still there, but barely hanging on.
you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to lean into him. you could feel him relax, exhaling a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. slowly, he wrapped his arms around you, resisting the urge to give in completely.
just as you opened your mouth to repeat your question, he finally spoke.
"i needed to see you," he paused, his voice soft despite clinging to you as if he were petrified that you would slip away from him. "just one last time."
your bottom lip trembled at his words. just one last time. it sounded like a goodbye– one that you never had to begin with. but this farewell seemed heavier than any you had ever faced before, as if it held a double meaning. it made your heart clench tightly in your chest, and suddenly what little strength you had holding your resolve fractured and fell apart.
"tiánxīn, you're not supposed to go where i cannot follow."
death was the one place you could not follow, just as he could not follow you into another life. your species could not procreate, and any deaths lead to dwindling numbers. you were stuck in an endless cycle of life and rebirth, destined to one day forget who you were even holding onto. you weren't sure how much time you had left anyway. a day? a year? so much time wasted without him when you could and should have been there for him.
even if he were to die, and you were to molt the next day... you knew deep down you'd awaken missing a piece of yourself that you would never be able to find. while rebirth would erase any memories you once had, it could not completely sever emotional ties. you'd seen it yourself. couples always found each other again even if they couldn't remember– the special bond they shared would carry over no matter how many times it was forgotten.
but what of those who created special bonds with mortals?
was a life with a hole permanently embedded in your chest better than death? or would it feel the same? maybe they were different. the feeling of a waterlogged existence versus a peaceful end. to live on despite the pain instead of succumbing to an endless darkness. you didn't know which would be worse.
yet, you found yourself sighing, tears finally trailing down your cheeks. you never thought one person could make you question life itself. and you never expected to be able to find any beauty in death.
"then again... six hundred years is a long time to live, isn't it?" the words you spoke shook him, causing him to lift his head.
the fire that made up his eyes found yours, desperately searching them the way he did when waking from a nightmare. he knew what you meant, and he knew what you'd be giving up. after all, the general had warned him to leave you alone. that you were finally serious about your job, and that you had a little shadow who followed you around and learned from you. he couldn't– no, he wouldn't ask you to leave everyone and everything behind. oh, but aeons, he wanted to.
he wanted to give into his selfish desires, to live what little time he had left with you by his side. he wanted to settle his scores, not just for himself but for you as well. for the time lost and the pain you faced as he went through his unwelcome change. yet he refrained, taking off on his own because he couldn't ask that of you. only for you to tell him he never needed to.
it was something he couldn't wrap his mind around. you had been angry– harsh glances and touches to confirm that when you refused to talk. now, you were sad and telling him what he'd only dreamed of hearing. he wasn't sure if you were messing with him–toying with the emotions he'd been suppressing for centuries.
the only thing he could bring himself to ask was, "why?"
"time does not heal all wounds," you couldn't help but look away. "and i know what is waiting for me in the next life. time also cannot erase what is held in the heart. while i may be angry and hurt, i've never been able to hide that i still love you. i will always love you."
perhaps he was your greatest weakness, and you were his. maybe it was senseless to rush into an ending you couldn't come back from. but at the very end, you'd at least have him.
you could not live for someone you'd inevitably forget. but to give your life for them? well, you thought while finally meeting his eyes again. you cupped his cheeks in your hands before bridging the gap between you two, maybe the most romantic ending for you both could only be death. all you had to do was just hold onto him while you waited.
TAGS: @dottores @dan-hengs @alucrds @mxnjiros
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you asked, I provide 💞 unholy genshin thoughts #18: diluc roommate pt 2 🔞
part 1 here
(diluc's roomate saw him jerking off to some //hardcore// hentai porn 😩 what would he do next?)
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diluc couldn't say he lived with a lot of insecurities. he actually believed himself to be a pretty secure in his self esteem and perception of own character. but goddamn it, for one night he'd set himself lose of the leash around his neck that tied him up with so many responsibilities and a calamity would form.
he's never entertained the possibility of living with the fear of looking another person in the eyes for whatever reason, let alone because said person saw diluc beat his dick to a sloppy hentai girl, covered in cum and tears.
he was embarrassed and that made him so angry. every time diluc thought of facing his roommate made him want to crawl into a hole. it was a new type of insecurity he had never encountered before. the situation kicked him so hard out of his zone of comfort, he was now faced with the dreadful fact that he'd have to confront this problem head on and clear the air.
the idea of leaving things as they are crossed his mind, but what justice would that do him. he can't have the word out around campus of him being a perv and also what of his roommate's feelings, no he couldn't even think about that because it made him gag. he thought of his reputation before thinking of what seeing his dick might have done to her.
diluc was never too fond of talking and faced with these circumstances he preferred biting his tongue or waking up with amnesia, but it had to be done. he had to assess the situation and figure out on what ground he stands with his roomate now. for so many reasons.
Not just for his reputation, or her feelings, but also because that's what he thought was right for him to do. diluc is a strong man - tall, handsome, well built. he was in good shape and it was apparent by the way those white bartender shirts stretched around his biceps while the black pants he wore hugged his ass, threatening to rip from the sheer pressure of hugging these tight mussels.
the visible physical strength he possessed combined with the fact he was closed and not into random bursts of communication, garnished with the cheery on top which is him spread on the couch, moaning like a whore with his cock in hand - that was a recipe for disaster and he just splashed this cocktail in the inncocent and ill prepared eyes of his roomate.
he had to redeem himself. it was only right, no matter the embarrassment. but how could he set things right when she was never around? the possibility of it all being in his head that night evaporated as soon as several days passed and diluc failed to see her on even a single occasions.
at some point he even suspected she had left without saying a word, but that was not right because some of her shoes were still near the front door. there was a particular mug she liked to drink her coffee from. that was washed and placed next to the sink every morning, so she's around still, just avoiding him at any cost probably.
diluc didn't know how to process the unfolding events. He's never experienced the blazing need of having to talk with someone who's avoiding him. the coin was flipped and he felt helpless and infuriated. the redhead never was the one to procrastinate, if something has to be done, he will do it straight away and get it off his head no matter how hard, exhausting or annoying.
but it was different this time because he can't chase her and sit her down to have a talk with him against her will. that would be highly inappropriate and inconsiderate. so what should be do?
diluc came to the realisation that he's out of options and what's left for him was to wait for a random encounter with his roomate around the apartment or if she approached him first instead. coming to terms with being so powerless and dependent on someone else's decisions was an unknown territory for diluc. it was a blow to his pride and ego, but as a creator of this mess he had to own up to it.
for the first week diluc felt anxious when at home, his senses were heightened and at every sound he'd stop whatever he was doing and assess it. was this her, if yes how long should he wait before he goes knocking on her door. but it all proved to be fruitless because in the end whatever he had heared was never his roommate.
this morning it was just like every other one for diluc. he had to wake up early to cover a morning shift at the pub then attend university at noon. nothing out of the ordinary. the apartment was dead quiet, you could probably find more cheer in a haunted house.
diluc did his morning stretching, then fixed the bed and opened the door to the balcony to get some fresh air. his was darkened and carried a heavy aura so he didn't pay attention to the sunny weather outside.
stomping with heavy steps, the redhead made his way into the shared bathroom - his monotonous life style and his perfectionist eye allowed him to spot any differences in the flash which is why when he reached out for his toothbrush and tooth paste he noticed that the sinking was littered with his roommate's belongings.
a sudden flutter of the heart caught him off guard. she was here earlier today. well she's probably been here many times before that too, but that's the first of him seeing an actual trace of her existence ever since that night. diluc's thoughts were was so overloaded he didn't even mind the mess.
he brushed his teeth in the kitchen sink instead, unsureness of where to move his roommate's toiletries. but he'd have to shave too and he can definitely not do that in the kitchen so he should probably just put everything in the bathroom cabinet.
diluc went back into the bathroom and picked up some of the little tubes. at first he didn't pay them much attention, but one of it was missing a cap - she must have really been in a hurry. he'll have to find that before storing it away.
the cap was on the floor next to the door - it must have fallen off in the haste of her getting ready. diluc was about to put in on but then the aroma of whatever's inside the tube invaded him. it smelled refreshing like lemon and oranges.
"face scrub with vitamin C" the label read. there was not much left of this scrub, she probably uses this often. diluc bit his lip involuntarily - she puts that on her face. she rubs it on her skin and then her face smells just as fresh.
diluc's tongue glazed his bottom lip. maybe taking a peak at whatever else is in the sink won't be that bad. he could use this information to give her a present as a sign of pace. he was well aware he should not be this self indulgent but the illusion of good hidden in the pool of bad was working.
one by one he went through the little bottles and containers - smelled them, read what they were for, then stored them away in the cabinet. he couldn't get rid of the warm feeling embracing him when imagining how she's going through her daily routine of cleaning her face, putting on make up, getting dolled up and pretty.
the triviality or it all felt special to him. diluc's cheeks rosed up as he realised he was peeking into such an intimate part of his roommate's life. one where she's in her most natural state, bathing in the simplicity of starting the day with some time to herself.
that part of her was never on display for him, or maybe he never paid close enough attention. diluc submerged himself into the depths of her world, not realising that the sense of forbidden closeness was getting him hard.
between the moisturiser with watermelon scent and dry shampoo with cherries he saw something in a shiny package. "body lotion" he gasped. this went on her body. this went everywhere on her body, could he be jealous of a lotion. should he Google that?
Diluc read everything listed on the package "love spell - body lotion with shimmer." Yes, this got him under a spell alright, he was so far gone diluc didn't even realise he had reached into his loose shorts, palming his dick.
"rose scent, leaving your skin delicately smooth to the touch" how could they write such a seductive description. they could also include "now you're ripe and ready for the taking like a juicy peach." diluc shook his head and pulled the hand out of his pants.
what is he doing - this is so irrational and immoral even. it all went south when he left his dirty fantasies take him hostage last time. however bad it looked in her eyes when she saw him masturbsting, at least his roommate didn't suspect herself as the main focus of his carnal desires. but with her lotion in his hand, there'd be no doubt about it and diluc would have to bear the label "perv" for who knows how long (which would be the least of his worries probably)
so Diluc was now wondering why even with all this sound reasoning his cock was still painfully twitching. his balls were so tight, he could feel the cum boiling in them begging for it's release. he wanted to coat that bottle with his seed for that would be the closest to getting her all wet and dripping with his cum.
he couldn't stand it - hands gripping the sink, knuckles turning pale under the pressure of his powerful grip. he wanted to bury his dick in her, the immense desire of manhandling her precious body ignited a flame in his chest then spread like a wildfire to every part of him. diluc's hips almost buckled back and forth involuntarily at the mere thought of his roommate's legs spread for him, eyes full of anticipation.
his breath quickened under the rhythm of his drumming heart. it was hard for him to contain himself and his reflection proved that it's best he's alone because had she been around, he would have fucked her.
It scared him that her pussy, which he hadn't even tasted yet, turned out to be such a magnet for his dick, that common sense was degraded to nothing but a word in the dictionary.
it was impossible to resist that temptation and it made him feel weak and ordinary, just like every other guy (who's simping over a pair of good tits because the last time he saw real ones was when his mum breastfed him).
yes, he was spiteful. diluc's confidence which nurtured his sense of security and superiority was now crushed by something as banal as the desperate craving to jerk off.
he pierced the shiny bottle with his gaze then popped the lid open and put some of the lotion on his hand. the aroma infiltrated diluc's fragile state of mind and brought him to the verge of insanity. it was her scent that he was now smearing over his rock hard dick which drove him absolutely mad.
he's never felt so feral before, and there was not a trace of shame for defiling his roommate's intimate possessions, claiming them as his own and marking them so everytime she uses that lotion, she'll wear a little bit of him on her skin too because it will always bear the memory of diluc's hot ropes of cum which were about to decorate the bottle.
his cock was so hot diluc barely registered the coolness of the lotion which with every pump of diluc's hand was turning his rod into a magical wand covered in sparkles.
the fantasy of fucking his roommate after everything that has happened combined with the dirtiness of his current deed was getting him off so fast. diluc's head was spinning, that white on his dick was not lotion anymore but instead the juices ozzing from her pussy as he fucked his cum into her.
she must be an enchantress of some sort, there's no other logical explanation of him being unable to get a hold of himself and control the sinful thoughts of gagging her with his fingers and stuffing her full of his cock until he knows he's ruined her for everyone else.
where is this all coming from, since when is he so powerless and where did his will go. diluc fucked his fist like there was no tomorrow. he was gripping the sink so tightly he thought he might break a few fingers. his eyes were shut yet the world was spinning.
everything came down to the throbbibg cock in his hand begging for release and it had him begging too - for this to end so he can come back to his senses. he never spoke during sex and yet here he was grunting and choking down on his own moans.
his brain was jumping from fantasy to fantasy each one more dirtier than the other - he was fucking her on her knees then in the ass, then deep throating her while repeating with broken voice 'you want this, you want to be owned by my cock. beg for it' he'd envision himself pulling her away from his dick by her hair, tossing her on the ground and fingering her beyond overstimulation, beyond any rational comprehension of pain and pleasure.
he'd look at her grimacing face as she would be thrashing and gasping for air unable to process what's her body telling her because it would be yelling so many things at the same time. completely fucked out, that's how diluc envisioned having his roomate around his fingers. so fucked out of any rationality she's smile and lust for more when he was spitting in her mouth, twisting her nipples, slapping her thigh.
he was a goner - he could feel the soul parting his body and drifting away along with whatever was left of his rightful mind. he couldn't fucking care less to be honest. diluc and his roommate had become one in his fantasy and she was his to do with as he pleases.
her body was his dominion and diluc was ruling it with the iron will of his cock, reaping her, leaving her bare for him to own. the squeezing of his first, but really the thought of her cunt pulsating with desire to embrace his load , was what snapped diluc in two.
unable to contain his carnal need to have her submit to him on such a primal level, diluc came all over his hand, the sink and hot white cum covered also the lotion bottle known as the ignitor of his insanity.
his orgasm had him shaking to the very core, he felt the rush crash on him like a giant wave, washing away everything but the afterthought of completeness and pleasure. he was twitching, shivering, still in the process of silencing the buzzing in his ears and registering what the hell happened.
it was an indescribable feeling which had him staring back at his reflection for a good long while, just contemplating, grasping everything and nothing at the same time. he never felt more mortal and aware that he's a man (loyal subject to the feminine power of womanhood, ready to die for if needed just so he can live in its embrace before facing his demise) aware of all that's sleeping inside of him.
the lust, the need to have and claim, the burning desire of wanting someone for just himself so he can fuck as he pleases but also protect - it was clawing at him, raising questions left unanswered for what felt too long.
diluc reached to mindlessly put his pants back on when a surprised gasped shook him out of the trance he was daydreaming in. again.
no, it's not what he thinks it is because such things just don't and can't happen twice.
"what kind of a sick pervert are you exactly?!"
more genshin here 💥
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As You Are, I Am Too
Summary: If we compare people to magnets, opposites attract and sames repel, so why are two stoic faces paired as soulmates?
Word Count: 15.4k (why are you surprised at this point, get some snacks)
Tags: Alhaitham x Fem! Reader, Smut, NFSW, Modern AU, Soulmate AU, Mutual Pinning, Fluff, Slow Burn, Slow fic, Perfectionist! Reader, angst, arranged pairing, TW: Toxic family, unhappy childhood trauma, child of strained marriage trauma, TW: Themes of self-loathing, themes of infidelity, toxic work environment, slight workplace harassment, pushy boss, slightly yandere! Alhaitham?, Soft! Alhaitham, second chance romance?, slightly bratty! reader, Dom! Alhaitham, Degradation, Heavy adult themes, attempts at comedy
Author Note: This is experimental, I want to explore if two same sides of a magnet can still attract. I want to explore the fumbles and mistakes of love.
Do you believe in soulmates?
It’s nothing to be ashamed of if you do. Because who doesn’t want to believe in it? The concept of an ‘other half’, a missing piece that completes you. Someone who loves you and only you unconditionally.
Who doesn’t want to experience that?
To be loved, to be accepted, and to feel whole are all natural human desires. So it’s no surprise society, regardless of the century, culture, or demographic all obsessed over finding that other half.
To find a hand that fits perfectly within the gaps of one’s own.
The greatest minds in all of Tevyat came together, analyzing each pattern, quantifying each data point, and testing each hypothesis until their magnum opus was created: The Akasha System.
Taking the work out of fate’s hands and into a large database.
What criteria did this wonderful system use to piece together two halves of a whole? Who knows, it’s a black box. However, the machine was quite smart, quite quick, and quite accurate.
So much so, there was no reason not to use it.
Humans, no matter how much some might deny it, despise being lonely. They fear it so much they’d rather hold a hand which strangles theirs with an equally crushing grip.
That’s why people rush toward their soulmates the moment the Akasha finds them, they fear being alone.
But do you believe in soulmates?
“No.” Alhaitham puts down his drink.
“But you still used the Akasha??” Kaveh juts a finger in the direction of an ashen-haired man.
“And?” Disinterested eyes glance at the time displayed on a clock in the rowdy bar.
“And?! What do you mean and? You just said you don’t believe in soulmates!” The slam of Kaveh’s palms on the table made a bit of beer lap over the edge of his cup.
“I don’t believe in soulmates, but I’m not ignorant to the benefits of marriage.”
“Huh?”
“It’s convenient.” The blunt statement rolling off Alhaitham’s tongue as he motions for the tab.
“Ugh, you know what, forget it.” Kaveh chases his heavy sigh with a hearty swig of his cup.
“Well then, I’ll call it a night.” He’s stayed out long enough.
Placing a handful of mora on the table to cover his tab, Alhaitham bids goodnight to his two workplace acquaintances and former college roommate.
He swiftly strides towards the creaky tavern door, swinging it open as he steps into the warm Summer evening. Tomorrow is another workday, better to get an adequate amount of rest.
“Still the same even after a full year with her, huh,” Kaveh sighs dryly.
“Did you really think he’d change after marriage, Kaveh?” Cyno finally chipped in from the sidelines.
“I should’ve known, someone as egotistical as Alhaitham practically married himself.”
“Now, now, his wife is nowhere as egotistical as him,” Tighnari says over the rim of his glass.
Cyno and Kaveh paused for a moment, sharing a glance as they considered Tighnari’s observation. With a shrug, they concluded: you weren’t nearly as egotistical as Alhaitham.
Still, the great mystery remains.
“How is he the first to marry?” The blond bachelor slumps further on the tavern stool.
“Life is full of wonders.” The ebony-haired bachelor gave a few comforting pats.
–
Unlocking the solid oak front door, Alhaitham steps into the serenity of a quiet house. Good, his ears were slightly buzzing from the boisterous conversation in a crowded bar.
Taking a few more steps into the entranceway, the man shuts the door behind his body.
The dull gossip over a few rounds of drinks made their influence known to him, he just wants to go to bed. Thus he takes a few more steps toward his bedroom.
“Place your shoes into the closet, I just mopped the floors.” A level voice called out from the living room.
Alhaitham’s movement halts, quickly glancing down at the Oxford shoes still on his feet, taking note of the spotless floorboards.
Wordlessly, Alhaitham unties the laces allowing him to kick them off with ease, placing them onto the shoe rack just behind a closet door.
It’s a habit that slips his mind every now and then despite a year of marriage; Surprisingly unsurprising when you take into consideration his busy mind.
However, times were different now, he’s no longer a kid, free to be lost in thought. He’s now a homeowner of a spacious house, a space he shares with you, and you liked things clean.
Not a speck of dust lingered on surfaces, no plates left in the sink, and books pristinely placed on organized shelves. Qualifications that he deemed exceptional for a life partner.
Now with slipper-clad steps, Alhaitham makes his way through the house, peering into the living room to spot your curled figure reading on a sofa. The warm glow of a floor lamp illuminated the soft curves of your cheek.
“Is something the matter?” You didn’t look up from the page as you addressed him.
“No, just heading to bed.”
“Okay, goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
The start and finish of tonight’s conversation, after all, you valued a quiet house as much as he did. His colleague’s words weren’t without merit, even Alhaitham isn’t stubborn enough to deny the obvious.
Hobbies identical to each other, books upon books lined up along numerous shelves, preferring to stay within the walls of this house unless dragged out by friends.
Your indecipherable gaze and stiff lips rival his own stone face. Perhaps that’s why the Akasha paired the two of you together. Two beings with stoic faces only another stoic would bear for a life partner, like two sides of the same coin.
Alhaitham stops unbuttoning his shirt behind his shut bedroom door, reanalyzing the previous statement. Actually, that isn’t a very good analogy.
It'd be more accurate to compare you and him to a double-sided mirror that reflected only one view.
“I don’t believe in soulmates.”
The man sitting across from the cafe table, introduced as Alhaitham, bluntly states, interrupting your sip of coffee, warm beverage just barely touching your lips.
Placing your cup back down on the coffee shop table, your gaze observed the stranger who just met you moments ago - a meeting in a small cafe arranged by Sumeru’s Ministry of Human Relations, the government body tasked with delivering the Akasha’s verdict.
After a few breaths, you decided to humor his abrupt statement with a response. Staring straight into his teal-orange eyes, you say, “What a coincidence, neither do I.”
—
So then why did two nonbelievers follow the verdict handed to them? It’s simple really.
Two salaries combined can buy a sizable house. Two pairs of hands get chores done faster. Two signatures on a certificate save tax money. Life is simpler with a partner to bear some of the burden.
Young professionals and fresh graduates aren’t known for their financial independence; a boy eager to move out of a cheap flat and away from an infuriating roommate, a girl trying to escape a noisy environment.
The circumstances had aligned.
And that’s how it’s been for two years now, a nice quiet house. Although, you’d be lying if you weren’t thankful that the Akasha paired you with someone as handsome as Alhaitham. Silver hair, broad frame, and beryl eyes with a hint of ochre - maybe he’s an apology gift from some fickle god.
He’s a well-rounded and capable man; perceptive enough to know not to cross boundaries drawn in the air, apt enough to not disrupt the serenity, and able to take care of himself.
Although, he could learn to launder better.
Your lips tug down as your eyes scan over the deep wrinkles crimping the fabric of a freshly washed button-down. It looks too rumpled to look professional, even on him. A sigh falls from your lips.
The presence of slow steps make your head turn in their direction, connecting with Alhaitham’s neutral eyes, quirked gray eyebrow questioning your purpose.
Two bodies, two rooms, and two beds.
The only time you or he crossed into the private haven of one another was when the floors needed to be mopped or shelves dusted. Owning a house means owning up to tedious chores and dividing up responsibilities spares one’s sanity from the tediousness.
It’s best to point out the critiques now to spare your own clothes from the same fate. Picking it off the back of his chair, you show him the shameful state of the garment.
“Leaving your clothes in the dryer for too long will create stubborn wrinkles.” You advise.
Teal eyes glance at the shirt in your hands before they flick towards the closet rack, your own gaze follows, noting the numerous other shirts in a similar state. Another heavy sigh escapes you, it's obvious Alhaitham attempted to do laundry yesterday.
Wordlessly, you begin gathering each wrinkled garment.
“I’ll rewash them and hang them outside, it’s the best way to smooth them out. Heat isn’t recommended for your fabrics.” You swiftly walk past him with your arms full.
“Thank you, I’ll clean the floors then.” He takes hold of the mop against the wall.
This seamless switching of responsibilities is done with less than two sentences, the efficiency of which is only possible between two people such as yourselves.
Button-downs are much more fickle than a casual t-shirt, using the wrong detergent or leaving it unattended for too long will cause unsightly wrinkles.
Alhaitham’s laundering skills have improved in the last two years… perhaps the singing of the dryer still slips past his preoccupied mind.
The two of you are working professionals. Crucial insight you’ve learned from your parents: A nicely ironed shirt, neatly brushed hair, and elegantly tied ties are all it takes to make others believe in the white lie of a put-together life.
Alhaitham was raised by his grandmother, a detail you recall from a passing conversation some time ago. It shows.
The amateur attempts at chores, the books strewn about a desk absent-mindedly, and the afternoon naps spent on a couch underneath a sunlit window are secrets only seen behind closed doors - all telltale signs of being well-loved.
‘How nice it must be.’ You thought, clipping his freshly washed button-downs to the clothesline, allowing the Sunday morning rays to shine down upon them.
A stone-faced man was once a beloved grandson. Maybe his juvenile attempts at chores were too endearing for an elderly lady to correct.
Hidden from everyone but the audience of swaying fabric and a curious star, a bittersweet smile tugs at stiff lips.
The clinking of forks against porcelain plates accompanies the evening news. Your eyes starring indifferently towards the TV just around the corner from the dinner table; looks like tonight's topic was the annual metrics of the Akasha.
With each passing year, these metrics only climb higher and higher, a machine learning to calculate better and better.
“What’s your theory behind the Akasha?” you blurt out the question without looking away from the screen.
A pair of utensils halted their movements as Alhaitham glances at the evening news. He takes a moment to wipe the corners of his mouth before humoring you.
Technically, the two of you have yet to fill your daily conversation quota. Might as well do it over dinner.
“It’s all mathematics, the Akasha system. Pairing individuals based on collected data. Demographic, interests, and dispositions, are all factors in a pairing,” he explains in his baritone voice.
“Mmm, then again it's all just a black box, we can’t be certain unless they choose to reveal it.” You ponder aloud.
“Correct. Those factors are all key when it comes to compatibility. The Akasha simply uses probability. However, there’s the element of human variability.”
“Meaning it can’t always be right.” You know this, live it even. “Is that why you don’t believe in the concept of soulmates?” Pivoting to an adjacent question, you return your attention back to the man across the table.
“Yes, it’s an unrealistic belief.” Alhaitham sips on his wine.
“Such a brilliant conclusion, what an astute mind you have.” Honeyed-voice mimicking awe over a glass of water.
Narrowed teal eyes honed in as his glass returned to its place on the lacquered surface, unamused by your quip.
“How about you? What theory brought you to hold the same brilliant conclusion?”
“Do you know phenylethylamine? PEA?” Glancing up from your glass.
From his idle gaze and unmoving lips, you take his silence as a “no”.
“It’s a stimulant that causes your heart to beat abnormally, released when you’re around a special someone. It causes what people describe as the ‘rush’ or ‘fever’ of love.”
He says nothing, waiting for you to continue.
“But then your brain gets used to it, and the abnormality in your chest corrects itself.” You take a sip before continuing, “Nothing last forever, so why do people think love is an exception? That only one person ever will cause their hearts to flutter till the end of time?”
A dry giggle follows the clink of your water cup against the wood.
“How insightful.” Alhaitham takes another sip of wine to chase his sarcasm.
Maybe it was the amusing quip or how tonight’s butter chicken turned out to be exceptionally delicious, but a subtle smile curls at the edges of your lips. With today’s conversational quota fulfilled you focus your full attention back to the awaiting dinner.
You remain ignorant to the gaze of teal eyes, oblivious to how it fixates on the faint smile complimenting the soft curves of your cheeks and plush lips.
“...”
The front door shuts and locks behind you, your shoes are halfway into the closet before a familiar scent beckons you towards the living room.
Quickly getting into your slippers, you trek through the entranceway and round the corner. The vivid hues of pale blues and gentle violets with pops of bright yellow catch your eyes, confirming your speculations: it’s a bouquet.
The bundle of flowers were placed into a long-forgotten vase. Turning away from the blooms, you face the man currently thumbing through a book on the couch -the only other person with access to this quiet haven.
Turning back to observe the blooms, you note each species of flower. The Sumerian Rose, Kalpalata Lotus, and…Padisarah.
You observe how the pollen of the Padisarahs dusts the radius of the surface around the vase. It’s a fickle flower after all.
A fickle and potent-smelling flower.
A scowl twists your face despite your best efforts, the sickly-sweet fragrance of the capricious blooms assaults your senses.
“Please open a window.” your hand comes up to shield your nose.
“Is something the matter?”
“The smell is giving me a headache.”
A headache forms from within the deepest depths of your mind, the same visceral reaction to the heavy perfumes that plagued your childhood walls. Your mother believed the saccharine scent could cover up her infidelity if she sprayed enough.
Compared to that artificial perfume, fresh Padisarahs were much tamer, but still enough to make a bitter taste appear at the back of your tongue.
“I see.” Alhaitham sets his book down, getting up to allow the Autumn breeze in.
Swiftly, you trudge away from the vase and its potent blooms and down the hall, eager to find an untainted corner of the house. It’d be best to sleep the headache off.
In the morning when you round the corner back into the living room, you notice the vacant vase and table wiped clean of any speck of yellow pollen. Passing through into the kitchen, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafts in the air.
As you pour yourself a cup, you take note of how the trash has already been taken out, a fresh trash bag lining the bin.
Good, flowers were a hassle to keep around the house.
–
“Chocolates?” You study the box of sweets left out on the kitchen table.
“I picked them up while getting ingredients for dinner,” Alhaitham answers, busy chopping carrots.
“You can have some.”
You return your gaze back to the intricately designed package in seasonal Winter colors. It’s not often that you indulge in such elegant treats, you couldn’t refuse such an offer.
Delicately picking up a piece, the glossy dark chocolate shine looks inviting, you can see the quality in these sweets. Placing the small chunk onto your tongue, savoring the rich flavor. Not too sweet and not too bitter.
Using your tongue to maneuver it towards your teeth you bite into its center, only for your tastebuds to be assaulted by a foul flavor. The distinct and sharp tang of alcohol and the revolting aftertaste of bourbon spoils the sweetness.
Refusing to allow the detestable flavor to remain on your tongue, you briskly swipe up a few napkins, spitting the foul sweet out. You frown at the stubborn tang of bourbon which threatens to ruin your appetite for dinner.
“You can have the rest.” You throw out the crumpled napkin.
“Are they of poor quality?” The tapping of the knife paused.
“They’re just not to my taste.”
“In that case, I hope tonight's dinner is.” Alhaitham resumes his task.
Taking a glass out from the cupboard, you fill the cup with fresh water before gulping it down, washing the foul tang of alcohol from your tongue, and even fouler memories of the stench of sour wine and crushed cans.
Wiping the escaped droplets off with the back of your hand, you go for a second glass. Hopefully, you can cleanse your palate.
–
“Do you have plans tonight?” Alhaitham’s words make you stop in the middle of the hallway.
You have a book ready in hand for a night of reading on the sofa under the soft glow of the floor lamp. You know his eyes can see that, gaze questioning his intentions.
“I was given two tickets to a movie, would you like to accompany me?” He holds out the slips of paper.
As your eyes pass over the printed font, you recognized the title, a name picked up within the chatter of coworkers at the office. It’s An adaptation of a famous light novel from Inazuma, and the reviews seem positive.
“Sure.”
You could get out of the house a little more.
…
It seems like everyone wants to see a movie tonight, the theater lobby is filled with bustling crowds, families with excited kids, and couples holding hands.
And then there’s you and Alhaitham. Standing side by side, his hands carrying two carbonated drinks, your hands holding an overpriced bag of popcorn, walking toward the room printed on the tickets.
“C5…C6, looks like we got good spots.” You settled into the plush seats, careful not to spill the bag.
Alhaitham hums in response, placing your drink in the cupholder. More and more people filed into the screening room, waves of ‘excuse me’s and ‘sorry’s rolling through the space until all the seats were finally filled. The lights begin to dim as the opening logo booms through the sound system.
The cinematography was beautiful, the musical scores accompanying the plot pleasing to the ears, and the popcorn perfectly seasoned.
It’s been a while since you’ve last gone to a movie theater, maybe you should go more often. As you brought a few more pieces of popcorn to your lips, your eyes travel toward Alhaitham.
His arms crossed as the light of the silver screen reflects onto his skin, noticing your stare, his teal gaze connects with yours.
Moving the striped bag closer to his frame, you offer him some popcorn, he paid for the refreshments. It'd be a shame if he didn’t get to enjoy them too.
His large hand reachs over and takes a handful, your curiosity wanting to see his reaction to the snack. However, a piercing shrill snaps your attention away.
Just a few rows away, a woman stood up from her seat, throwing a bag of popcorn at the man sitting beside her. Screaming words you couldn’t quite make out as they merges with the onscreen dialogue and equally furious shouts of the now popcorn-covered man.
Their thunderous voices were only amplified by the acoustics of the theater.
They’re both standing now, still hurling insults and grievances one after another. There’s a ringing in your ears, their faceless silhouettes in the dim theater replaying a scene you’ve seen many times before. It’s as if they’ve finally developed a conscious, now aware of the stares and glares thrown their way.
Oh, look they’re leaving now, still fighting the whole way out of the screening room.
With the disturbance now cleared, a low wave of murmuring swept through the audience before dying out. The dialogue and soundtrack were audible again, the atmosphere reverting to how it was.
You didn’t feel like snacking on the popcorn anymore. Gaze focus on the fluffy puffs for the rest of the movie.
“Did you enjoy the film?” An indifferent voice resounds from your right side.
Walking out as the credit rolled in the background, following the flow of traffic toward the exit. You were walking by Alhaitham’s side, but your mind was elsewhere, a subtle frown etched on your lips.
“It was fine, just crowded and loud.” Your voice was just as flat.
“Oh.”
Tossing the unfinished bag of popcorn way into the nearest trash can, the two of you continue on the silent journey home.
Perhaps, it’s best if you just stayed curled up with a book.
“Eh? It’s been three years and you’ve never gotten your wife flowers? I knew you were cold-hearted, but not to this extent. Here, a quick bouquet of some fresh flowers I picked.”
“You should gift her some sweets, maybe then you two can talk a choco-lot… Did you get the joke?”
“Are you serious?! Almost four years and you never took her on a date?? You’re hopeless! Take these tickets and take her to the movies. By the way, you’ll have to pay for them.”
Alhaitham wasn’t sure what made his colleagues so invested in his marriage, maybe a projection of their own lack of one. To his colleagues, you were just as much of an enigma as the ashen-haired man.
Any passing comment, no matter how vague or curt, would bring forth an onslaught of unsolicited advice. And it was for that very reason within the walls of your home these details shall stay.
Alhaitham isn’t sure which was more irksome, the uninformed guidance of bachelors, or the fact he was the one who actually tested each suggestion. Regardless, at least these trials were fruitful in the sense he can gauge your dislikes now.
You despise flowers for their fickle messes and scent. You’re revolted by overpriced chocolates. You detested rowdy theaters and subpar films.
Four now going on to five years, and these were his results. Frankly, he didn’t have to subject you to such experiments for these results, because they aligned with his own preferences.
A waste of time, disturbing your peace for the sake of his own curiosity.
A heavy sigh falls from his lips as he sets the bucket of water down, one hand holding a mop as the other turns the knob of your bedroom.
It’s a Sunday, meaning the floors needed to be mopped. Your door's hinges sing as they swing open only to be abruptly silenced as Alhaitham stood motionless under the door frame.
Oh. He should’ve knocked.
You were in the midst of getting dressed in front of your floor-length mirror, glimpses of smooth skin peeking out from under baggy fabric. Before he could stop, teal eyes followed the dark fabric reaching just down to the middle of your thighs and draping low on one shoulder. Your fingers were in the middle of buttoning the clearly oversized shirt as you turned back to focus on him.
Blank gaze traveling up your soft lips set in a neutral position and meeting your deadpan stare, Alhaitham’s conscience restarts.
Today was Sunday, which meant it was laundry day yesterday, and it was the ashen-haired man’s turn to wash and dry the clothes. Somehow, his button-down got mixed in with your blouses, leading to your unamused reaction.
“I’ll be more mindful next time, did my shirt dull any of your whites?” Forcing his eyes to avert, a late attempt at respecting your privacy.
“It’s fine, fortunately, the dye didn’t bleed out during the wash.” You turned away as your hand pulls the draping fabric up your shoulder.
“Just place the shirt over the chair in my room, I’ll take care of it later.”
“Okay.”
Once more your door sings as he shuts it on the way back into the hall, deciding to clean the floors of his room first and allowing you to change into your rightful clothes. It was early noon and a weekend, meaning there was no reason for Alhaitham to brush out his sleep-tousled hair. Hopefully, messy gray locks were enough to conceal burning ears.
–
“The Evolution of Everything.” His eyes scan over the title held out in front of him.
A newly published scientific journal filled with freshly collected data, the book's spine still in mint condition. Alhaitham takes note of the identical copy held in your hand.
“You seemed interested in this genre, so I picked up a copy for you.” You motion for him to take it.
There wasn’t a rule etched in stone that forbade the sharing of books within these quiet walls. The books on your shelves have been more interesting than his as of late. A pattern of folded corners inflecting more and more pages of the books lining your bookshelves, evidence of a certain man’s meddling.
The warning glare every time you smoothed out a creased page directed his way didn’t seem to be enough to stop the unconscious habit of his hands.
It looks like you’re trying out a new solution, getting him his own copy to prevent the infection from engulfing each and every corner of your bookshelves.
“Thank you, I’ll read it soon.” He accepts the peace offering.
With that, you made your way back to the sofa. Flipping open your own copy, fingers gently making sure to not crumple the delicate pages or crease the pristine spine. Alhaitham compares it to the book currently held in his own hands.
An older book, while not falling apart or tattered, it’s obvious the man has thumbed through its pages. A well-loved book as his grandmother would’ve described it.
Alhaitham needs to stop this practice he never corrected in childhood.
–
“Alhaitham.” You greet him at the entranceway.
Said man is currently placing his outside shoes away into the closet, returning from an uneventful day at his office. You usually got home before him, but this was the first time you’ve waited for him at the front door. He notes that you seem to be holding something behind your back.
“Here.” Bring your arms out from your back, the distinct crinkling of plastic was heard.
Teal eyes study the gift basket filled with bath products, body wash, shampoo, conditioner, and lotion all nicely packaged with a satin ribbon.
“It’s to thank you for helping me with errands lately,” you explain.
Recently, you’ve been asking him to accompany you to the cluttered streets lined with stalls and haggling merchants. With his towering frame and larger hands, he could carry heavier bags and part a path through the pushy crowds easier. You were using your resources to maximize efficiency.
“There’s no need to trouble yourself with this, I’m just doing my part. But thank you.” He takes the basket from your hands, eyes remaining collected.
Just as the basket leaves your hands, the distinct chime of your phone goes off as ‘Bahram’ flashes across the screen. The name of your boss.
“Excuse me, I have to take this call. Dinner will be ready in half an hour.” Turning away, you walk toward the kitchen.
The he hums in response, slipping into his inside shoes. With brisk steps, he covers the distance from the front door to his room, closing then leaning against the solid oak.
Sharply inhaling as one hand balancing the basket of toiletries and the other holding his head.
You’ve always prefer to maintain the serenity of the house. Resolving strife with proactive actions or brief comments. Not once in these past five years did you ever nag him, you’re too pragmatic for that. At times it’s a curse more than a blessing, evidenced by the gift basket staring back at him mockingly.
Although Alhaitham was messy at times, he knows the importance of hygiene. Teeth brushed twice a day, a shower taken every day before dinner, and deodorant applied daily.
However, the temperatures this Summer were at record highs, even for Sumeru. The packed market streets pushing the two of you closer than usual, perhaps he’s no match for the heat this time.
Washing his hair twice and his body thrice, Alhaitham finishes his prolonged shower by gurgling some mouthwash for good measure. Walking into the kitchen in a fresh set of clothes and his hair still damp. The table set with potato boat and some steak. Impassive eyes met inscrutable eyes as you motion for him to take a seat.
Your nose remained relaxed, meaning you were probably satisfied with his efforts.
Alhaitham makes a silent reminder to research some cologne after he finishes washing the dishes. One that isn’t overbearing nor too weak to linger.
How embarrassing it is, five years in and the stoic prodigy known as Alhaitham is still testing the bounds of his wife’s patience. Selfish experiments and habits he can’t seem to correct conflicting with your wishes for a clean, serene, and quiet home.
The entire reason why you bothered signing your name next to a stone-faced man who said ‘I don’t believe in soulmates’ before asking ‘How are you?’.
Flowers, chocolates, and movie tickets.
You weren’t oblivious to the sentiment behind these arbitrary actions. In a way, it was expected. A husband wants to get closer to his wife, it’s simple chemistry.
The human mind craves connection, oxytocin, dopamine, and serotonin released at the sight of gifted blooms, crafted sweets, and from simply sitting within each other's presence.
A chemical cocktail the mind gets drunk on.
Alhaitham isn’t immune to it and neither are you. Even if you were able to stiffen your lips, steady your gaze, and hide those flushed cheeks. Nothing you did could quell the abnormality in your chest, was Alhaitham having the same issue?
There comes the first hurdle, the unknown which hung in the air formed over years of peaceful silence. The thought of two stoic faces peering into each other’s eyes as two monotonous voices stated the obvious would make any romantic keel over and die.
It’d be too embarrassing, especially when it’s already been awkward.
Headache caused by sickly sweet blossoms, spitting out pricey sweets, and dulled reaction to a critically acclaimed film. None of this was Alhaitham’s fault, how can you blame someone for something they don’t know?
He never asked, you never told.
No one knew what happened within that noisy house with empty bottle-covered floors of two ‘soulmates’ who refused to release their crushing grips. All except the three unfortunate souls trapped within its Padisarah-scented walls.
Still, his keen eyes didn’t miss those details, reassessing his actions before ultimately channeling more of his energy into chores around the house instead of frivolous gifts. What a proactive husband.
A sting of guilt felt as you recall his sincere attempts at trying to cross an icy bridge. What should you say? ‘Thank you, you tried.’ Sounded far too condescending, it could even lead to a huffy fight. Something you’ve been good at avoiding these past five years.
Marriage is filled with compromises, meeting each other halfway along the road of life, side by side. So you tried this time.
Curiosity guiding you as it did a naive hero towards the brilliance of a red star.
–
Your first attempt was inspired by an article that popped up on your phone’s feed, something about wearing your partner’s shirt to make them flush, nonsense known as the ‘boyfriend shirt’.
You still gave it a try. Swiping up one of your husband’s black button-downs one Saturday night, only building up the confidence to put it on the next morning.
Your original plan was to just casually wear it around the house as you got the Sunday morning chores done, but that got thrown out when Alhaitham suddenly opened your door when one-third of the buttons were still undone.
A moment of tense silence followed, impressively you managed to maintain a cool facade. Grasping the opportunity to leave this stale silence with an expertly crafted response.
–
In the end, he just wanted his shirt back. So for your next attempt, you toned it down, no longer taking advice from nonsensical articles.
Recently, Alhaitham has taken more of an interest in your bookshelf. More of the once pristine edges of your books folder here and there. If it was anyone else, you’d make them buy you a new copy immediately, but for now, you simply smoothed out the paper.
If he wants to read the theories and studies that muse you, why don’t you read them together?
However, two bodies pressed together on a sofa trying to read the small print along pages at the same time is simply uncomfortable. Plus, Alhaitham reads much faster than you.
To ensure a pleasant reading experience for both of you, two copies were the best solution.
He read it after you.
–
Your next attempts used thinly veiled excuses to get Alhaitham to accompany you to the bustling markets of Sumeru City. In a way, trying to make up for that lackluster movie experience.
Only for it to soon turn into using Alhaitham to carry arm fulls of bags as he shielded you from the push and pull of the busy crowd.
Perhaps you should stick to gift-giving, to spare your husband from working like a Sumpter Beast in this weather.
But besides books, what should you give him? He’s just like you, if he sees something he wants, he’d just buy it with his own money.
On the way home from work, you caught sight of a shop, one which displayed handmade soaps and fancy lotions. Huh, Alhaitham often takes your lotions, maybe you should get him his own. A bell ringing overhead announces your entrance into the cozy store.
“Welcome!” A bright voice chirped as a shop assistant with vibrant red hair and an equally vibrant smile bounded toward you.
“I’m Nilou, how may I help you today?”
“I’m just looking for some lotion.” You politely responded, trying to ignore the faint fragrance of Pardisarahs.
“We’ve got plenty of hand-made ones, for you or for someone else?”
“For my husband.”
“Oh? What does he like?”
You paused for a moment, lips pressed together in contemplation before deciding.
“Something fresh and not overbearing, nothing made from Pardisarahs.” If he liked using your lotions, then he must have the same scent preferences.
“We just got this new lotion that fits the criteria! Oh! But it pairs very well with this body wash… actually this shampoo and conditioner set is also a good fit. Oh! What if we bundle them?”
What was supposed to be a simple lotion turned into you leaving the small shop with an entire gift basket. A sigh leaves your lips, looks like you’re not as immune to sales tactics as you originally thought.
That night you handed the ribbon-wrapped basket to Alhaitham. Even if he isn’t interested in expensive handcrafted soaps, he’ll still use them out of necessity, they were a gift after all.
However, it doesn’t seem you had to worry about that. He used up the fancy soaps and lotions.
The opulent scent lingering on his skin and towel-dried hair, looks like your gift made you discover a new side of your husband.
He enjoys really long showers, evidenced by your rising water bills.
Still, the vast expanse of uncertainty didn’t shrink, not even one bit. Just like the distance between an outstretched hand toward the sun.
Books, lotions, and walks through a market, looks like it was all for naught.
The mutual agreement to not lock eyes, these cold halls, these awkward dinners filled with nothing but the clattering of silverware and plates. Where have you seen these patterns before?
Oh, you’ve seen these in your childhood home.
Ah, was this a curse passed on to you? What an awful wedding gift from uninvited parents to a courthouse office.
Clutching the straps of your bag tighter, your legs quicken their pace, wanting to get out of the crowded streets filled with the mumbles and pushes of people freshly off the clock.
With each stranger knocking into your shoulder another drop is added to a bottle. White knuckles gripping on your straps as a pressure rises within the bottle’s glass body, threatening to shatter it.
You can’t let this continue, the mounting pressure will sooner or later detonate into a hideous mess. Best to avoid that scenarios. Eyes catching sight of a small reprieve from the crowd, you direct yourself there.
The small store front provides you with some shelter for your lungs to breathe. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. The pressure subsides just a bit. There’s still room in there, you can suppress a little more, you can endure a little longer.
Eyelids fluttering open, you recognized the name of the shop. It’s the fancy soap shop, one with the vivacious sales assistant.
Peering through the glass you searched for that brilliant shade of crimson. And you found it, right next to glimmering silver hair. It’s like your body forgot how to breathe.
From the rumbling of the late evening rush, all you could do was read their lips from behind a thick glass door.
Petite pink lips giggling behind clasped hands as Nilou looks up at Alhaitham, tilting her head to the side as if she asked him a question. His lips remained stiff, but teal gaze reflected crimson as they softened. Something you never witnessed within the quiet walls of your home.
Looks like you found the cause of the rising water bills, perhaps Alhaitham likes the smell of Padisarahs.
Your bottle couldn’t contain the ocean anymore.
It wasn’t an Earth-shattering catastrophic event, no tidal waves crashing down, no flood flood devastating everything in its path. Only a defeated ‘pop’ and its pathetic echo as your bottle finally overflowed.
Bitter sea-foam fizzled out as it made an unseen mess.
Listlessly, you rejoined the rolling crowd, letting the eb and flow of its movement carry you all the way to the front door of a false haven. Systematically inserting the key, placing your shoes into the closet, and shutting your room door behind your back. Staring at the clean floor with its intricate wood grain.
However, your mind weren’t processing any of it, busy with its calculations.
When did his fever start? That one Autumn night with a chaste bouquet. What day is it now? The cusp of Summer. How long has it been? In a few months, it’ll be three years.
A lecture from an inescapable past resurfaces.
–
“Hey, kiddo.”
Slurred words made you stop in your tracks, small hands tightening their grip on your backpack straps.
You weren’t quiet enough, the careful steps of your feet were rendered useless when it came to the creaky wooden floors of this house. Your lungs burned for air, but you didn’t want to breathe in the stench which permeated this air.
The aroma of cheap perfume, sour wine, and cheap beer. The source of this foul smell? The freshly awakened man laying on the couch just a few inches away: a man known as your father.
Still trying to reserve your stored supply of oxygen, all you offered the drunkard was a firm hum. Not that he’d care, judging from the crushed cans and empty bottles littering the path, he’s probably too far gone.
“Did you know love is a chemical? Something called ‘phenylethylamine’?” A hiccup interrupts his sentence, but he continues, much to your dismay.
“Haha, it makes your heart beat faster and your cheeks flush because it’s considered an amphetamine, one of the most powerful drugs.” His stumbling hand blindly reached for another can, knocking over empty shells until it found one with just a bit of liquor.
“Too bad the high can only last three years.”
Your disinterested gaze trailed off down the empty hall, legs itching to break away from the lecture you’ve heard numerous times before. Lungs begging to inhale the untainted air of your room, the only sanctuary this hollow home held.
Just a few minutes was you need, then you’ll start mopping these foul floors.
A clink of aluminum hitting the wooden boards draws your attention back to your father who had finished moisturizing his throat with another swig of beer.
“Stay away from that drug, kiddo” A sloppy grin stretched across his face as he stared up at a blank ceiling.
The sight made your arms bristle, seeing a smile on your father’s face was uncanny. Something you’ve never seen at the dinner table, just silent scowls and disgruntled glares constantly exchanged over a subpar meal.
Wanting him to finish this one-sided conversation, you gave another firm hum, every now and then glazing back toward the hall.
“Or you’ll end up like this old man.” He wraps the conversation up with a bitter laugh, one which resonated off the blank walls.
–
Maybe you should’ve heeded your father’s words. A brilliant scholar to the public but a pathetic drunk when within the confines of a cluttered, noisy house is still a brilliant scholar.
This was your punishment for straying away from your beliefs. You reached your hand out towards the fire despite knowing it’d hurt, and you fell in love. Now look at where you are.
How utterly laughable, you, the ever-bright Ms. Perfect, who’s broken love down to its base form of chemical compounds, fell victim to the addiction that was love.
So blindsided by it.
The fog of love is slowly running its course through him. Once the trees abandon their vibrant greens for shriveled browns in the Autumn, his fever will be over. There’s no such thing as an endless Summer.
How did you not see this coming? Covering your eyes with ignorant hands, blatantly ignoring the signs right in front of your nose.
No more flowers, no more chocolates, and no more movies.
Turning back around, you took note of a figure in a floor length mirror. Indifferent gaze identical to how your husband looks at you.
Two sides of the same mirror, what’s what you and him are. What’s the use of that? Shiny surfaces point off in opposite directions, yet only ever reflecting one view. What’s the point of having two sides then?
You don’t intrigue him, you can’t show him his blind spots, and you can’t reflect to him a view he’s never seen. Same perceptions, same hobbies, same expressionless faces, how stale it must be.
It’s much more interesting to have a wife who’ll smile at receiving flowers, a wife whose eyes light up at chocolate, and a wife who’d blabber on about a movie as Alhaitham listens intently. The beating of his heart is starting with someone new.
Emerging out of your thoughts, you stare directly at the person in your mirror.
Dull eyes stared right back, light dimmed from years of staring at a bright star grasping at its warm rays in substitution of a cold house, only for your fingers to slip pass right through.
Idiotic girl, you can’t touch the sun, not even Icarus did.
An unlovable child grew into an unlovable adult. Add that to your footnote, so you’ll never forget this lesson again. The fool in the mirror finally looks away.
It didn’t matter if Icarus smiled or laughed as he tumbled from the sky. Silly girl, did you forget what happens in the end of that tale? He drowned alone.
Drowning isn’t like what the movies show. The thrashing of limbs against cold waves, the garbled screams under the water, all accompanied by the ominous soundtrack crafted by a sound master. It’s all dramatized for the silver screen.
Muscles pushing through the cold exhaustion, mouth agape but prioritizing large and fast gulps of oxygen over cries for help, followed by the melodic lull of water lapping over eardrums until the head disappears under its surface. Never to breach it again.
It’s possible for a person to drown in a pool full of people. Just like how it was possible for you to feel alone despite having your husband just across the lacquered expanse of the dinner table. Forks and knives clacking porcelain plates.
It’s a silent death.
For once you’re grateful to attend a nugatory dinner hosted by your company. Venue filled with superficial smiles and handshakes all over food served on sliver platters. Even if the heels are killing you, you’d rather not wallow in a quiet house.
A heavy sigh leaves your lips, catching someone’s attention.
“What a heavy sigh, here have some wine to ease the burden.” A glass filled with fragrant wine was held out in front of you.
Your eyes travel up the hand which offers the vile beverage to you, sights landing on the face of your boss, Bahram. Pushy as always, always testing the limits of your loyalty to a nice pension and dental insurance.
As always you politely push the glass away, uttering a firm “no thank you.”
“Oh c’mom Ms. Perfect, you look like you could use a drink.” He pushes the glass closer, aroma.
Stares from all around the formal dinner table hone in, the weight heavy on your shoulders. Stakeholders and coworkers turn away from their shallow conversations to watch the brewing spectacle just across the table.
That’s right, you have to be professional, where was your crafted mask? Make use of all those years observing the masters of deception you knew as your parents.
So you accept the vile glass.
Before the aroma could register on your palate, you emptied the whole glass. Not a single drip escaped past your lips. It took all your strength to no scowl at the sweetly bitter and alcoholic flavor.
“Oh? Ms. Perfect is drinking tonight?” Some nameless coworker mused.
Ah, the name lightly tossed around at the office with oblivious chuckles and ignorant smiles. You despise being called that, but not as much as you despise being told ‘you’re just like your father’ and ‘you’re acting like your mother’.
Better to be Ms. Perfect, so disgruntled ‘soulmates’ can’t compare you to their flawed counterpart.
“Do you like this wine? Have some more.” Eagerly, your boss fills the glass once more.
Staring at the beckoning liquid swirling in the glimmering cup, as the weight of those stares force your hands to accept it once more.
Maybe you should’ve just stayed home.
“I should really be trying to sell you our products but… I think you’ll find a better gift at another store. Here, I’ll write the address down for you! They have the best jewels, I’m sure you’ll find something for your wife there!” Hastily the shop assistant scribbles on a notepad before pushing the slip into his palm.
“Just don’t tell my manager.” Clasping her hands in front of her mouth, signaling to him to keep a secret.
Alhaitham simply nods, examining the address in his hands. He hasn’t tried jewelry yet, but a ring would look nice on your hand. Maybe you’d think so too.
“You really love her, don’t you mister?” Nilou notes how attentively his hands smooth over the address.
Pausing for a moment, Alhaitham envisions the softness of your cheeks shifting as that tender smile spreads across your lips. Yours eyes reflecting the light off the polished and cut gem as he slips it onto your bare finger.
“I do.” Unable to stop the softening of his gaze.
–
A ring still left in its miserable black box, stowed away in the depths of a drawer. A sigh slips out of him just like how he let another opportunity to place the jewel on your finger. You’re attending a company dinner tonight, a rare occasion requiring you to dress up.
The dress draped over your figure and curves just right and highlighted the contours of your body. He wanted to tell you this earlier as you were leaving, too bad he was occupied with swallowing ‘stay home’.
There’s an annoying itch in the deepest depths of his mind. Covetous hands crawled up his spine, they tried to convince his own fingers to grasp around your wrist and pull you back into the house.
Alhaitham shakes that itch away, refocusing his attention onto your bookshelf in front of him.
You have a life and responsibilities outside these walls, he can’t overstep the boundary to block you from your individuality. Running a finger along the tops of the neatly lined books, searching for something to redirect his impulses.
Momentum halting when his finger sunk into pages when he expected the firm edge of a spine. The force crumpling the paper, immediately he pulls it into his hands, smoothing out the folded edges. Title catching his attention.
The Lifespan of Love, the only book where the spine wasn’t facing out. Flipping it to the back, Alhaitham scans the blurb, noting the portrait of the scholar who authored it.
A familiar face, a professor who’s lectures he barely attended. A distinguished researcher and mentor in the eyes of his old university.
The sight of his face made Alhaitham recall a scene he once witnessed.
–
The halls of the Psychology department were desolate, as they always were. A much-appreciated reprieve from crowded foyers as a quiet student walks to his next exam in the department next door.
Just as his hand reached up to activate his headphones, two voices caught his attention, the high shrills of a woman and the raspy shouts of a man leaking out from an office door left ajar.
It has nothing to do with him, Alhaitham know this, but he still had 30 minutes to kill before the exam.
Teal eyes peer through the gap between the oak doorframe.
A man the student recongizes, but the scowl and flush of rage twisted his face into an unrecongizable mess. The professor juts his finger towards the woman as foul names left his mouth, the same mouth which lectured the brightest minds of Sumeru.
The woman screams back equally loathsome words, tears leaving mascara trails down her red cheeks. Suddenly, she grabs a lamp off his desk and hurls it to the floor.
For a brief moment, the scholar pauses as his eyes scanned over the broken debris scattered along the floor. Then his fist slammed into the solid oak of his desk, thud so forceful the office ratted with the poor furniture.
His shouts resume, volume escalating by the minute.
Alhaitham backs away from the door, turning on his noise-canceling headphones. He’s satisfied his curiosity enough, walking off to his exam.
–
A peculiar sight behind the superficial mask of a respected professor with his jolly grin and light hearted jokes with students. Inspecting the name printed just underneath the portrait, a furrow forms between his brow as he scrutinizes the spelling closer.
The professor’s last name was spelled the same way as yours.
Oh. So this is the source you were citing back then. Numbers and figures published by a notable name backing your rebuttal to the societal notion of a soulmate. Inquisiveness rearing its impatient nose, inciting his hands to choose this book as his subject tonight.
You never told him, so he never asked. This was a chance to peer into a view sealed behind your closed lips.
To study, dissect, and analyze the resources which congergated together to form the you of today. Alhaitham isn’t going to deny such an opportunity.
Teal eyes glance at the ticking hands of a clock, he’s got a good few hours of reading before you return.
The distinct rumble of an engine leaking in through the living room window interrupts his peace, the slam of car doors causing Alhaitham to promptly fold over the corner of the page he has yet to finish.
The dinner must have ended.
Getting up from a cushy couch, Alhaitham makes his way toward the entranceway.
His keen ears picking up the unmistakable hearty chuckle of a man, Alhaitham stills for a brief second before continuing to the door.
Before the chime of the doorbell had the chance to sound throughout the home, Alhaitham already pried open the front door.
Teal gaze darkening as they examine the display on the front steps.
Your arm around the shoulder of another man while his arm was snaked around your waist, pressing your body against his as he supports you up the steps.
The sound of the hinges directs the man’s attention to the homeowner currently staring at him, oblivious to the way Alhaitham’s grip threatens to crush a metal handle behind solid oak.
“Oh! You must be Ms. Perfect’s husband. I’m Bahram.” The man greeted.
Alhaitham already knows him. He’s seen that name flash up enough times across your phone. He’s seen you pick up no matter the hour and step out into an empty room.
A new habit of yours which started some months earlier.
“Haha! She drank a bit too much tonight.” The jovial man continues, his hand still resting on your hip.
Drank? You drank? You don’t so much as glance at Alhaitham’s wine cabinet at home, yet you drank with this man? The begins of scowl start to set into Alhaitham’s face.
“I’ll bring her inside for ya.” Bahram takes a step forward only to be blocked by a towering frame topped with ashen hair.
“I’ll take it from here.” Alhaitham barely bit back a pointed tone, forcibly smoothing it over to make his voice pass as neutral.
Prying that hand off your hip and your arm from Bahram’s neck, Alhaitham’s strong hold supports your slumping figure against his own body.
Pulling you across the threshold of the front door, finally putting some distance between you and that damn boss of yours.
“Have a goodnight.” Venomous lie rolling off Alhaitham’s tongue as he firmly shuts the oak door, not bothering with any more pleasantries.
It didn’t take much effort to carry you into the living room. Setting you down on the sofa then kneeling down with dexterous fingers, Alhaitham freed your feet from the chokehold of those heels.
You make a mental note to throw them out tomorrow morning.
“Thank you,” you breathed out, relieved to finally be home.
Your husband doesn’t respond as he walk away to place your shoes into the closet. The lingering taste of wine churns your stomach, you needed some water to wash it out.
Carefully, you amble into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with fresh water. Praying it can finally rid you of that foul flavor.
After three glasses of wine, your stakeholders and coworkers finally turned their attention elsewhere. You’ve entertained them enough.
Granting you the freedom to push away anymore glasses your boss offered, only getting him to stop after you agreed to his offer of driving you home.
What a troublesome night, your mood sourer than it has been for the past few months.
As you fill up your glass again your ears catch the pattering of Alhaitham’s steps as he trails into the kitchen, stopping only a few paces away watching you glup down your second glass.
“Did you enjoy yourself tonight?” His husky voice resounds from behind you as his finger taps against the marble countertop.
“No.” You fill rinse out the cup, the stubborn grip of wine not releasing your tastebuds just yet.
“Oh? It sure looks like you did.”
Your body stiffens as your turn the faucet off, glancing over your shoulder with eyes narrowing.
“What do you mean by that?” Your tone a bit more sharp than you’d like it to be.
“I’m certain you know exactly what I mean.” Alhaitham stops his tapping as he lays his palm flat on the table, teal eyes boring straight into you.
“Well, well looks like your assumption is wrong.”
“I doubt it, stop mincing your words and just say you enjoyed a few drinks with your boss.”
Your body turns around fully, glaring stare connecting with his teal one. Ticking of a clock sounding throughout the quiet kitchen.
So that’s why he’s behaving like this, partners with wandering eyes tend to project their hypocritical insecurities onto the other after all.
“Then why don’t you say you’ve been enjoying your visits to Nilou?” Something more venomous than sour wine drips off your words.
“How is she related to this conversation?” His eyes narrowing at you, unlike the same teal irises that reflected the scarlet of her hair.
“You know exactly what I mean.” You spat his own words back at him, maneuvering around him as you make your way back to your room.
At this point you weren’t sure what was the cause of the headache threatening to form.
The wine? This deafening silence? Or the thought of Padisarahs?
You don’t care, you want to go to bed. The thuds of his steps weren’t far behind yours as you trek through the halls.
“Our conversation hasn’t concluded.” His deep voice ringing in your ears.
“Yes it has.” Your room was just in sight.
“No it hasn’t.” His hand encloses around your wrist.
There you were, halfway through the doorframe of your room with the pull of his hand preventing you from getting the rest you want.
There’s no longer any space left in a shattered bottle, just a rippling ocean getting rougher and rougher with each deep breath.
“Can’t you be honest?” His ironic, paradoxical words causes the tide to crush against each other.
“Can’t you be honest? Do you think I wouldn’t notice your showers right as you come back from ‘work’? You’ve been driving the water bill up with your cover-up efforts.” Glaring right into those damn beryl eyes, frown breaking your stiff lips.
“Cover-up? What a bold accusation coming from the same person who awaits a call everynight.” He mirrors your scowl.
“Maybe its because work offers better company than this stifling house.”
Alhaitham grip tightens on your wrist as his lips press into a firm line, indecipherable stare weighing down upon your frame. His broad shoulders rise as he takes a deep breath.
“Strip,” he commands.
“Have you gone mad?” You snap back, unable to budge in his hold.
“Yes, furious even.”
It didn’t take much effort for him to make his way into your room, pulling you in as well. You could barely keep up with it all, glaring at him but it didn’t affect him one bit.
The movement causes your dress to shift. Glancing down you realize a strap of your dress slipped off, leaving one side of your breast dangerously exposed.
With swift strides, he arrives at the edge of your bed. It’s rare for you to dawn such attire, applying a lovely shade of crimson to those plush lips, and tying your hair up so nicely. Did you get all dressed up for Bahram? Why couldn’t it be for his viewing only?
Tsk, noisy nonsense is cluttering his mind, those the claws of a green-eyes monster digging into his last shred of restraint. Seizing his rationality in its ugly, greedy hands tighter and tighter the longer your soft thighs pressed against his tense body.
Crashing into those crimson lips of yours, one hand positioning your face to allow his tongue to catch yours by surprise. Letting the two muscles dance together as his other hand explored the expanse of your body, pulling up the silky fabric to grant his palm the pleasure of gracing your soft thighs.
‘Oh, so this is what he wants,’ you thought as your lips moved against his.
‘Fine, might as well experience what he’s been doing behind your back.’ The fingers of your free hand tangling themselves into his hair, tugging at ashen locks with disregard.
Unfortunately, the pesky need for oxygen made Alhaitham release your lips. Chest panting as his darkened gaze observed the state of your lips. Crimson smeared over the corner of your glossy lips. You put so much effort into painting them, making sure they were nicely defined.
However, it felt so cathartic to know that he’s the one who messed them up, no one at the party saw them like this. Only him.
“I’ll ask you one last time, strip now.” Not letting go of your face.
“Go to hell,” you spat out.
And the last chain broke, dignity and self-control reduced to nothing more than ash as his hunger commanded him. Go to hell you say?
“Then I’ll take you with me,” he sneers through clenched teeth, pushing you into the mattress face down. One hand restraining those disobedient hands of yours behind your back.
Before protest could leave your lips a rip resounds through the hot air. Alhaitham knows he should be delicate with it. That he should carefully pull the zipper down your back, letting the fabric naturally drape off your frame.
However, a man who starved for six years now knows nothing about patience.
You feel the silky fabric slip off, leaving you in nothing but your panties. Teal eyes honing in on the darkened patch on the thin fabric, a dry chuckle leaving his lips.
“Wet just from this? Or were you wet during dinner too?” He pulls the fickle fabric off.
You wiggle in his hold, face flushed with frustrated embarrassment at your current predicament. However, in terms of strength you’ll always lose to Alhaitham. A violent flinch jolts your body as he runs a finger runs along your glistening slit.
“What a lewd thing, has he seen this slutty hole of yours?” Alhaitham watches the way your cunt quivers with each stroke of his digit.
“Do really you think I’d sleep with my boss?” Your voice slightly muffled by the sheets as you turn your face to the side.
“I need to confirm it.”
With two fingers, he spreads your soft pussy lips apart, keen eyes observing the trail of slick starting to drip down from between them. He sees the muscles of your entrance clenching around nothing, he glides a digit in, feeling your slick walls clamp around it. Clear essence drooling out. He hums in satisfaction before sliding his finger out, you bite into the sheet to silence any sounds.
“Enjoying this?” He muses, fingers spreading your cunt again.
You don’t respond, but the glare you’re sending his way makes his lip curl into a smirk. For once he could read the emotions behind your stoic eyes, he wants to see more.
Trailing his fingers up your slit until they bump into a hard nub making your body twitch. Softly pinching your clit between two fingers, he slowly rolls the senesitve bundle of nerves as you bite harder to stop your moans.
Cunt slick but unstretched, clit throbbing but not swollen, only your essence coating his fingers. Looks Bahram hasn’t gotten the chance to taste you yet.
Calming the thrashing of a green-eyed beast just slightly. However, this wasn’t enough. Alhaitham feels the parchedness of his throat as his eyes scan over your glistening slit.
Alhaitham once believed that the touches exchanged when his fingers brush against yours while passing plates, when you pull a blanket up his napping frame, or when your bodies briefly pressed against each other as he helps you hang the laundry out was enough to satisfy him. That he could sustain off just borrowing your lotions.
Such a false assumption, a foolish one even. As the heat radiating off your body melts away another restraint he imposed on himself. Alhaitham realizes just how much he’s been starving himself.
Thumb rubbing firm circles into your clit, the pleasure making your legs close together, trying to shut him out but the grip of his hand stops your attempt.
“Tsk, stay still.” His strength pinning your legs apart, showing you just how ‘feeble’ he was.
In retaliation, he pushes your legs further apart. Exposing more of yourself to him, it was embarrassing enough to almost make your lust-hazed mind care.
Thick fingers gathered up drops of slick leaking out from your dripping cunt as your lewd hole unable to contain its greed. Allowing him more access, feeding into his greed further.
Two fingers tracing the rim of your entrance before it slowly pushes through. Instantly, your gummy walls clamped down on his fingers, making him hiss through clenched teeth.
“If you’re grasping my fingers this much, how will you take something larger?” His breath ghosting over your cunt.
Your toes curled in the air as a kiss was pressed against your throbbing clit, almost enough to let a gasp escape you. Biting back a drawn out moan as his tongue traced your leaking slit, starting with your sensitive numb then traveling up to lap at the essence escaping your stretched hole with the smooth muscle then back to flick at your clit.
You never realized just how pent up your body was until whines and moans just fell from your lips like water. Turning your head away, pressing your face into the mattress in hopes it’d catch those sinful sounds.
“Tsk.” Alhaitham escalated the pace of his fingers.
A sharp slap against your puffy clit, shooting white-hot pleasure up your core. With a gasp you pulled away from the sheets, unable to stop the moan which tumbled out. Hastily, you tried to muffle your voice again, only for a warning squeeze on your still pinned wrist stopping you.
You’ve enjoyed your silence, he’s been deprived of those sultry moans, so for tonight let him enjoy them to the fullest extent.
Your back arched, hips bucking in the air. Your little pussy finally rewarded his hard work with a rush of slick soaked the sheets and his face further. Swiftly removing his fingers again with a disgraceful squelch, only for his tongue to dip into the cavern they left. He slurped and lapped up every drop of your nectar, quenching a thirst he never knew he had.
Overstimulated clit trying to flinch away from each nerve-frying lick while your weeping walls beckoned his tongue to go deeper. The tightness in his pants was painful now, engorged tip rubbing against the fabric and soaking it in precum.
With his unyielding hold, his half-lidded eyes, and his unrelenting tongue lapping up all of your essence while bullying your poor nub, you were powerless. Unable to hide from his hungry gaze, nails digging into his unflinching hand, and chest heaving with the mounting pleasure in your core.
Scowl long replaced by a loose expression, the pleasure ripping through every fiber of your being. Shooting up from your curled toes to the eyes seeing only the back of your head, the edge growing closer and closer-
Alhaitham pulls away, your slick dripping down his chin glistening in the moonlight illuminating the room. Cruelly pulling back from the edge before you could taste true euphoria. No, he doesn’t think you deserve it yet. Flipping your body effortless on your back, wrists now pinned above your head.
His teal eyes drank the sight of your breast bouncing with each pant, puffy cunt clenching desperately, and the glimmering tearful eyes rivaling the stars themselves. A sight so sinful the devil is writhing in envy.
“What the fuck?!” You thrashed in his hold again, mourning the lost of the orgasm your body was denied.
“With this attitude, you should be grateful for what you got. I’m tired of waiting.” Alhaitham sneers next to your ear, chest pressed against yours before his warmth pulls away.
Tugging his pants and boxers down his thighs with a hand still coated in your nectar, trailing kisses and red splotches in the valley of your breast as his precum and your slick mixed with each stroke of his shaft. The wet sounds even reached your ears.
Making the mistake of looking down, your eyes widened as they comprehended his length and girth. Your restless pussy twitching but your legs closing as to preserve the last of your ego. Something thick pressed against your dripping pussy making your hole quiver and legs freeze as his tip threatens breach your entrance.
“Trying to be coy now? When you were moaning like a whore mere minutes ago.” Smug teal eyes peering down at you.
Another frown breaks onto your face at his pointed words. Your tongue is just as sharp, best to remind him of that fact.
“What a practiced line, you say the same things to her as well?” A mocking smile curling your lip as a scowl tugs down at his.
Too self-satisfied with your small victory to notice his large hand gripping onto your hips, aligning himself with you. With a sinful squelch, Alhaitham snaps his cock fully in. Your lips thrown open with a gasp as your back arches off the mattress.
“I. Never. Had. An. Affair. So, instead of spewing out anymore nonsense, why don’t you just moan instead?” Puncuating each word with thrust of his hips, feeling the vibration of each syllable in his chest pinned against yours.
Jagged words ready at the tip of your tongue, yet you couldn’t form a single sentence. With a broken moan your back slowly descended back onto the sheets.
Tearing a hiss from his clenched teeth and a breathless moan from you, gummy walls contracting down tighter and tighter with each girthy inch pushed as his balls slap against the slick down your ass. Nothing could’ve prepared him for this. Alhaitham stays there, tip pressed against the deepest part of you, a furrow between his brows.
Alhaitham knows he should be gentle. He knows he should allow your walls to grow accustomed to his girth by slowly rolling his hips against yours.
However, you just won’t stay still. Mewling and whining against his frame, nails clawing at his hand as your legs fluttered in the air. Each movement makes your pussy slurp around his stiff cock, lapping at the girth as if trying to pull him deeper than he already was.
Tempting his hunger like a lunatic testing a starved beast, it’ll only be so long before the hunger bends the iron bars containing it and devours you.
“AH!” A sharp slap of his hips rips a moan from your lips.
Alhaitham pulls you off his cock until the tip threatens to slip out, then thrusts it all back in one fluid motion. Instinctively your teeth clamps down on your disobedient lips, desperately trying to bite back those lewd noises. The slurping of your greed welcoming him over and over was embarrassing enough.
What a selfish move, trying to deprive him once more of your pretty moans. Provoking that ugly appetite within the pits of his stomach again. If you won’t behave, Alhaitham decides to fuck the stubborness out of you.
Each thrust of his hips into yours rocking the sturdy bed, bullying your poor sensitive pussy still recovering from a ruined orgasm. Hands and hips held within bruising grips. The pitched gasps every time he railed into a certain spot didn’t escape his keen ears, his hips now angled to bully that spot with each thrust.
How helpless you were to the devastating rush of dopamine, endorphins, and oxytocin. Unable to ground yourself on anything, your last wisps of sanity swept away by the waves of pleasure.
A groan reverberates deep in Alhaitham’s chest, the sudden convulsions of your slick walls trying to milk him. It was almost impossible to move with the way your pussy just kept clamping down.
Unfortunately, his hips couldn’t seem to care, operating solely on selfish desire.
Fortunately, a fresh wave of arousal aided in his rhythm, relentless slams bouncing your body and bed.
Strength long leaving your arms Alhaitham releases his hold on them in favor of supporting your limp hips, a breathy chuckle leaving his lips as lust-hazed eyes honed in on the frothy white ring forming on his shaft.
All your lips could do was babble out nothings as the headboard continued to beat the poor wall. Cunt thanking his cock with a contraction every time his tip knocks against your weakness.
The sweet moans caressing his ears, the filthy slaps echoing through the room, and your walls pulling him deeper and deeper, Alhaitham was at his limit.
There was nothing separating you two, he had enough sense left to know that. Reeling in the reins of his greed, he pulls back, fingers digging deeper into your plush skin. Well, he tried to pull back, but your locked ankles behind his back foiled this plan.
He felt so hefty in you, heavy balls slapping against your ass as his girth and length tore apart your sensibility. Something deep inside your cunt pleaded to be fed, to be filled, pushing your limp legs to lock ankles.
He feels a bit too far for your liking, blindly your hands groped at his body. Finally, reaching his face, cupping it roughly, you crash his lips down onto yours. Tasting yourself on his tongue still, but you couldn’t care less.
As your tongues tangled together, Alhaitham reached his limit. Pressing his thick tip as deep as it’d go, thick ropes of cum start to coat your walls with each twitch of his cock. His shaky moans swallowed up by your kiss.
The slurping of your pussy milking his still throbbing cock only prolonged his hunger.
Dropping his head into the space between your neck and shoulder, he relishes in what he’s been depriving himself of. Feeling the faint shiver of your neck against his face.
Something was fogging up his mind, Autumn breeze doing nothing to quell the heat burning him.
–
“Ah! Mmmh! A-ah Ah!”
The first rays of dawn breaking through the navy sky, the light so flushed by the scene it witnessed, it’s pink hue illuminated skin into the room heavy with lust and the slap of wet skin.
“N-no more… too m-Ah!-much-ch.” Intoxicated brain sputtering out broken sentences.
It really was too much, you’ve cum too much to bother remembering, from the creamy drops dripping onto the soaked sheets, he’s also cummed too much.
Pussy overflowing and spasming with each thrust pushing more milky seed out.
Cock rubbing its red tip rawer with each quiver of your gooey walls.
Six years of starvation will make any man forget gluttony is a sin.
“Too much? No More?” A husky pant between each word as Alhaitham continues with his punishing rhythm.
“If that’s the case… then why is your pussy refusing to let me go?” His chest pressed against your back, caging you further as his breath tickles your ear.
Unable to form a sentence anymore, your head pathetically shook side to side, stubbornly denying the obvious. Looks like he hasn’t fucked out of you yet, better change that. Large fingers digging further down on bruised hips, as the pistoning of his thrusts escalated.
Bed frame pushed to its limits.
Each smack of his hips against your limp body further drowning your pride out in a flood of dopamine. It’s mounting again, that familiar pressure building up in your core, making your toes curl in painful arches.
There’s a sudden flick at your swollen clit, walls flinching as his fingers encircles around the abused nub.
“Who’s making you feel this way?” His husky voice too close to your ear.
Groundless pride preventing you from unsealing you lips, refusing to feed into his ego anymore than your wanton moans already did.
“Who are you showing this shameful face to?” There’s an edge to his voice again, why must you be so stubborn?
Once more you refused to answer. Making Alhaitham’s jaw clench and his fingers roll your clit harsher, making your bruised hips thrash.
“Who’s shape is engrained into this lewd body?” Voice dangerously low as he pushes his thick tip deeper against your beaten and painted walls, fingers never stopping their torment on your little nub.
The edge was getting closer, you knew you’ll fall off it soon, you’ll dive head first into the euphoric sea of dopamine, endorphins, and oxytocin and drown.
“Ah-ah Al-mmh!” You try to collect your breath.
Alhaitham quickens his fingers on your clit, feeling your greedy cunt clamp down on him again, walls suckling his twitching tip as his balls tighten. He’s close, but he needs you to say what he’s been waiting to hear all night.
“Alh-ah a-a…” Your hips shaking violently in his hold now.
Lust-glazed eyes staring straight into equally hazed teal eyes. Shaky hands slowly weaving themselves into his damp ash locks, gently pulling his ear closer to your lips, your hoarse voice just barely audible.
“A bastard.”
Self-satisfied smirk plastered over your loose face as your tear blurred vision catches the stunned expression on his handsome face.
The heat of his touch, the chemical stirring in your brain, and the pleasure frying your nerves made a delirious smile grace smudged lips. Your sight so hazed by lust you couldn’t see where your smile was even directed to.
Alhaitham wanted to etch the sight of your debauch face, smeared makeup and glazed eyes rolled back, into his memories forever.
Too caught off guard by your response to remind his hand to stop its movement before it was already too late. Eyes seeing the back of your head, back arching under his frame, you fell back into the all consuming waves of pleasure.
A hard earned victory in this veiled battle of two egos. Exhaustion seeping into every fiber of your being. The pale pink of twilight dimming in your vision as the dark hands of sleep covers your eyes.
Somewhere in the middle of drifting off into a blank nothingness, you feel a hand tenderly guiding your head to rest on a soft pillow.
Your eyelids twitch and brows furrow as the brightness of the room crept its way behind your shut eyes. Unable to retreat back into the dark embrace of sleep, you begrudgingly open your heavy lids.
Greeted by blurred shapes and fuzzy colors, you slowly blink your unfocused eyes. Gradually, the shapes and colors merge into distinguishable objects: a mug left on your bedside table with vapors rising from its rim.
“It’s morning-after tea.” A husky voice followed by the distinct flip of paper tenses every muscle in your body.
Alhaitham’s still here. You wish he wasn’t, you wish he’d realize last night was a mistake created from the clashing of egos, you wish the other side of your bed was empty.
So why did the tightness in your chest melt away with the mere sound of his voice?
You drag your sore body up from the sheets, shaky hands supporting the weight of numb legs and throbbing hips. Your sealed lips refusing to give him the satisfaction of any audible ques of your current state.
Sitting at the edge of your bed, back bare of anything but your hair draping over the marked skin facing him, you took the warm cup into your hands.
A harmony of methodical sips and soft turns of pages fill the room, an open window washing away the haze of lust with an Autumn breeze. Just as the last bit of tea slides down your throat a gentle slap of a book snapping close brings an end to the heavy silence.
“It’s unreliable,” Alhaitham announces.
Peering over your shoulder with a quirked brow, freezing as you recognize the book clutched in his hands. Not waiting for a response, he continues.
“Anyone with eyes can see how his biases exude through each sentence. He only studied 15 couples, not an appropriate sample size for a world filled with millions of pairs. His experiments have yet to be replicated, it seems his status is what got this nonsense published.” He sets the book down.
“What are you trying to say?” Your eyes narrow in suspicion.
“Your theory of phenylethylamine having a shelf life is based on nonsense.” His eyes connect with yours with that familiar indifference.
A frown twists your face, so he still wants to argue huh. Of course, what else did you expect? You and him have long gone down the bitter circular path you’ve seen travled before.
Irritation rising in your chest, like Alhaitham had jabbed his finger into a wound you’ve yet to heal.
“Oh, then your theory must be the intrinsic truth, huh?” Words leaving an acidic aftertaste on your tongue.
“I never-”
“Look at you, so correct with no data to support your vague mathematical thesis.” You cut him off, anger replacing the soreness of your legs.
Cup knocking against a bedside table as your hand casts it to the side, getting off the bed you march into your closet, pulling a random shirt on without regard of your movements wrinkling the fabric.
You just needed to leave this room, just being by his side is making your blood pressure rise. Your bed creaks as Alhaitham gets up as well, but your back was already through the door.
Two sets of steps trekking through the halls, paces mismatched as one tries to take quicker steps to counter the broader strides of the other. Alhaitham keeps pace with your escalating march.
“It’s a critique of his research, not you,” he voices.
You didn’t want to hear it, sharply pivoting into your home office, but you weren’t fast enough to stop Alhaitham from following you in.
Now a husband wants to spend time with his wife, where was this before?
“It’s an experiment conducted at the Akademiya, how is that not reliable enough? You think you can do better?” Your body whipping around with a glare directed at him, your hideous ego showing its face again.
“Are you listening to yourself right now? Do you even believe in such a shallow analysis?” He mirrors your glare.
“I’d rather believe in something with actual quantifiable numbers.”
“Fine, you want quantifiable numbers? Care to calculate along with me? Or is your mind still recovering from last night?” Alhaitham folds his arms in front of his chest.
“Go for it,” you say through gritted teeth, accepting his challenge, wanting to shush that snooty tone of his.
“The Akasha bases its pairs off demographic, interest, and dispositions, all variables we can calculate,” he states.
You straighten up your back, staring him in those teal eyes with your head held up high.
“Sumeru city is home to roughly 1 million people. Only 1/3 are around my age.” Alhaitham begins his trail.
“That brings that number down to about 333,333.” No delay in your response.
“Only 1 in 10 people have a personality I can tolerate, then suppose only 1 in 20 of those people can withstand mine.”
“ Rounding up that leaves about 1,667 candidates.” You tsk at his estimations, that number should be far greater than 20.
“Next comes shared interest, only 1 in 4 people have touched a physical book in the past year.”
“417 left.”
Perhaps the gods didn’t think cheating you out of a childhood was enough, out of 417 people you had the misfortune of staring at his stony face.
“Having to arrange 417 separate meetings at a small cafe would be much too burdensome for the Department of Human Relations. The scope needs to be narrowed further.” Alhaitham takes a step forward.
“Only 1 in 16 will have the patience to teach a grown man how to avoid wrinkles in his button downs.” Baritone voice losing its pointed edge.
“26 left.” You take a step back to preserve the space, hating how your skin craves the heat of his.
“Only 1 in 8 of those people will allow me to borrow their books even when they know the edges of the paper will be creased when its returned.” He takes another step.
As you take another step backwards, the edge of your office desk prevents you from retreating further. The sensation of the cold wood distracting you momentarily from your calculations.
“Then only 1 in 6 people will drape a blanket over a body that hogs an entire couch for a nap, placing a pillow under my head to ensure I don’t wake up with a sore neck.” Alhaitham doesn’t stop.
Reaching an arm out, he firmly sets his palm on the expanse of your desk, caging you between the wood and the risk of your skin feeling the heat radiating off his body.
“How many people are left now?” His breath ghosts the shell of your ear.
“ 0.543,” You blurted out.
A deep furrow appears between your brows, something must’ve gone wrong in your calculation, it’s impossible to have half a person. In the context of the Akasha, one person, a whole person, is matched to another.
Once more your mind ran the numbers over again, then again, and then thrice trying to recompute the figures.
Each time the same number came back: half a person.
“Are you mocking me with those groundless fractions? Where did you even get those statistics from?” Your pointed gaze still directed at him, did he intentionally lead you down this illogical trail?
“Logic is neither an art nor a science but a dodge.” He peers down at you, teal gaze back to its neutral state.
“Ha! Says the man who places logic and rationality on a pedestal, what caused such a change, Alhaitham?” You laugh dryly, not bothering to decipher the most brainless qoute you ever heard him use.
No change in his expression as his shoulders rise with a deep inhale, exhaling slowly as he leans his face in, his finger digging his palm against lacquered wood.
“Instead of wasting time citing subpar research, you should’ve just been honest. Then maybe I’ll give you what you want and sign those damn papers you hid away in this desk.” Voice low but steady as his gaze never leaves your frame.
It was a strange phenomenon, the chirping of the crickets had halted as two bodies remained unmoving, not even a single grain of dust dare move. If it weren’t for the faint ticking of a hallway clock, it would’ve seemed like time had stopped.
How long has he known about the divorce papers neatly stacked away a desk drawer?
Alhaitham slowly backs his body away from yours, hand returning to his side, freeing you from the cage it created. Teal eyes carefully observes your downcast stare and stiff shoulders as guilt suffocated him.
All the emotions he bottled up, all the fervor he held back, all the desires he swallowed down. It all came tumbling out, spilling out into a murky, repulsive mess.
“Wife.” If he had spoken any louder than a breathy whisper, that word would’ve crumbled on his tongue.
“I love you.” Alhaitham finally allows the words which have been clinging on his tongue for years now to fall out of his mouth.
Every inch of you froze at those three words, the weight of his stare heavy on your shoulders.
“Do you really feel nothing from those words?” Baritone voice beckoning an answer from you.
You don’t dare lift your head, gaze downcasted and frozen. Because you know you’ll have to stare at your reflection in his eyes.
Phenylethylamine, oxytocin, dopamine.
All these hormones and chemicals should’ve ran their course through your body. The haze should’ve faded and the abnormality of your chest should’ve corrected itself. It’s been three years at this point.
So, why is your chest aching?
The wood grain of the floor began to blur together as bitter tears compensated for the painful stinging of your irises. There it is, your brain finally short-circuits as the logic which once held up your sanity has crumbled away.
Finally, you met his gaze, staring right at your reflection in teal irises.
“It’s suffocating to be with you… it’s so lonely in this quiet house… it burns me like fire to touch you… yet… and y-yet see-”
“Seeing you leave will kill me, ” Alhaitham spoke the words just about to fall from the tip of your tongue.
The last piece of evidence that shattered the hypothesis he cultivated for all his life. If soulmates don’t exist, if the concept of an ‘other half’ doesn’t exist, then why is he feeling the same agony as you?
Looks like both theories were wrong in the end. Mathematics and chemistry unable to solve the enigma known as love.
“I… I want to love… but I’m drowning… Alhaitham.” You were finally honest, you’ve been drowning all your life, thrashing hands searching for something to hold onto.
Would you be oh so kind enough to grab that pen just behind you and stab its steel nib into his chest? Alhaitham’s certain that it would hurt less than the words that left your trembling lips.
A gentle hand cradled the back of your head as he pulls you closer. Letting those bitter tears strain his shirt and burn his skin.
No one, but the audience of a curious star and capricious gods peering down behind their blanket of clouds into this quiet house.
Alhaitham once thought of himself as a good husband. Doing his fair share of chores and paying his half of the bills.
However, seeing your broken figure barely clinging onto his stiff frame, it’s clear that his overconfident assessment was a grave error.
A good husband would’ve been more attentive. A good husband would’ve noticed the tide slowly sweeping you away into the rough sea. A good, loving husband would’ve never let you sink alone in salty tears.
“Then I’ll drown with you.” His other hand grasping onto one of yours, slowly easing it away from his wrinkled shirt with soft caresses.
Only monsters live in the deep cold sea, the only creatures able to survive the saltine waters and the pitch black nothingness. But as long as your fingers wove themselves into the gaps between his, he’ll be warm even as he sits on the sandy bottom of the murky ocean.
Maybe that’s where the two of you belonged, two unromantic and prideful fools sitting at the bottom of the ocean.
Hand in hand so that the stupidity contained between the two of you won’t pollute anyone else.
Gradually, those aching hiccups of yours faded into nothing more than muffled whimpers. Allowing silence to creep its way back into the gaps. The cause of this mess in the first place.
He has to remedy this, but what should he say? All those encyclopedias and journals he had thumbed through were all for naught. For Alhaitham’s mind couldn’t recall one fact from those pages.
One hand patting a slow rhythm into your back, trying to buy the man some time.
When logic and reasoning fail to explain the unexplained, folklore takes its place.
“According to legends, people used to have two pairs of hands, two pairs of feet, and two faces pointed in opposite directions.” He began.
“Back then, humans were powerful, powerful enough to threaten the gods who created them. So the gods split them in two. Cursing humans to a cruel search, desperate to be whole again.” His other hand still toying with your fingers.
You peer up at him, head still resting against his chest, feeling the soft beating of his heart. Blinking away the tears, listening to his telling of a myth.
“That’s the origin of a soulmate.” He finishes.
A soft giggle leaves your lips, a mixture of confusion and disbelief from Alhaitham quoting a fairytale.
“And you believe in that?” Amused gaze connecting with brilliant beryl eyes.
“Yes…because I found you.” Alhaitham tenderly brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss against your fingers as a glint catches the sunlight.
With a foreign sensation hugging a finger, your brows furrow. Holding your hand out toward the light again. Blinking eyes finally identify the gem which coyly appeared on your ring finger.
So that’s what he was doing, your tear stained cheeks shifting up as a smile stretches your once stiff lips.
Burying your head in the chest of the most unromantically romantic idiot you’ve ever known, a radiant laugh bubbling in your chest as it resonates off quiet walls.
But as he is, so are you: An unromantically romantic soulmate in love.
~Fin
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𝟙:𝟘𝟘 𝕒𝕞 Dottore x reader
Synopsis: Dottore isn’t the best at words, especially when it’s past midnight and you both have an assignment due first thing in the morning. Yet as the clock tics onwards, he grows a bit bolder.
Notes: I’m trying a new writing style so please let me know what you think.
💙🔹💙🔹 💙🔹 💙🔹 💙🔹 💙🔹 💙🔹 💙🔹 💙🔹 💙🔹 💙🔹 💙🔹
There’s blood on his hands again. Just like yesterday and the day before that. Limp body drowning in a sea of half-done lab reports, and suicide notes, and love letters. Desperate words scribbled on warn notepads come to life to haunt him.
The dorm light overhead scorches his eyes. He thinks it’s divine punishment on the utmost microscopic level. He feels so sick of playing Mortal. So sick of the Akademiya that treats them like feeble rats.
and still, he calls it home,
Dottore’s gaze lingers on your hunched figure. Matted hair and clouded eyes. Scrawling away at another assignment that’s due upon first bell.
There’s an unspeakable fatigue that lays heavily on your bones. Something that neither sleep nor furlough will fix.
You’re tired
So is he.
1:30 am
There’s blood under his fingernails from clawing away at beakers and graduated cylinders. Desperate to have something to show, when morning comes. Something cohesive enough that his dreaded professors may finally see that his frantic hypotheses hold some bearings.
your wry eyes stare at him like he’s an archon, a primordial deity. Like he’s death frozen in a prison overrun with blooming life and wildflowers
The desk you two share is a mess. Border blurred between medical science and sociology. Where does the human body end and the mind begin? Where does logic decay and love take over?
What’s the purpose of a heart anyway?
To sustain or to guide?
He wonders if you love him.
He doubts it.
2:15 am
There’s blood slipping from between the cracks in his flesh.
You cradle his palm in your hand. Wrapping a cloth around the wound.
He wonders if you could do the same for the lacerations he hides behind sharp comments and blood-red eyes. When you touch him so tenderly he remembers he has a name, a body, a soul.
He remembers he’s not just rogue fragments of past lives haunting a walking husk. He’s Zandik, he’s Dottore, he’s everything you need him to be.
He tries to kiss you.
You turn away.
2:55 am
there’s blood slithering down his lips, his chin, his throat.
You grasp at his heart, molding the darkness in your likeness. To him you are light. Not that he’s seen the sun in days.
“You’re beautiful” he mutters, hoping you hear him as you lay on the bathroom floor.
Ice-cold water sprinkles along his flesh as he tries to wash away the blood, the stress, the stubborn ache caught between his muscles.
This is intimacy, right? Not quite love, but a speck more than friendship.
You laugh at him from behind the blue shower curtain. A haunted, hollow noise. “Beauty doesn’t matter much around here” you replied as you hand him his towel.
You switch places. Cold showers keep the sleep away. Or so you’ve heard.
“You’re beautiful” you call after him.
Dottore thinks he hears you say something. Or maybe it’s all the memorized data finally getting to him.
3:30 am
There’s blood on his lips as he kisses you.
He wonders what you see him as.
A lover or a killer.
It’s late and there are too many emotions to keep track of.
So you kiss, the final solution to an otherwise unsolvable query.
Deep and desperate. Teeth clashing and hearts melting as you both hopelessly search for the answer to all your woes.
Dottore leans down to kiss you again, he tastes of dying stars and burning metal.
somewhere a santoor plays a lone tune. Haunting the dormitory halls.
Dottore watches as you dance. Some botched replica of your eon-long traditions. He thinks it’s funny how you’re the prettiest girl in Teyvat. He thinks it’s funny how he’s the most monstrous thing to crawl out of the abyss.
You kiss again. This time with precise calculations and perfect time.
‘I love you’
you both long to say.
4:00 am
There’s blood on his tongue, in his mouth, in his lungs. All he can think of is how much he needs you. How much he wants you.
There are so many pieces of you that he’s been preserving inside himself.
Enjoying the sensation of glass entering skin as he impales himself with your shards.
Your fingers tangle in his hair. Tugging to try and make him feel your pain.
The Akadimiya is no place for love, you think as Dottore kisses the veins on your arm. Do you want him or do you need him?
There’s still a lab report on the effect of neurological suppressants on vision wielders to complete.
There’s still a four-page essay on the effect of broken cultural ties on Sumeru’s populace to complete.
4:30 pm
there’s blood on your dormitory floor. Pristine royal red and something more. Yasmin is the first to find it and you wonder if that makes all the difference in the world. You beg her to stay silent and she’s too scared to decline. The pool of maroon evidence of some sort of love declared between two exhausted university students.
You like to think of it as a promise ring.
You can’t deny Dottore of anything. Be it love or anything else, not in the mornings when you’re semi-lucid and definitely not at night when you’re too muddled to care about anything.
Dottore is destined for misery, not enlightenment. Knowing this you’ll be sure to let him drag you down if he so desires.
He may as well fall into the abyss and you’ll leap in after him.
You think the two of you confessed last night. Kissed until the breath in your lungs and fire in your loins had been exhausted. You’re too exhausted from today’s lectures to recall fully.
Still, you’re heart races as he enters the room. Steps in the puddle and trudges towards you. Firm hands on your shoulders as you kiss again to the beat of the afternoon sun.
This is love you think as your eyelids grow heavier.
This is love he thinks as he spills his research into your veins.
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Assistant
Il Dottore x fem! Reader NSFW
Estabilished relationship, body worship, mentally unstable reader, violence, gore, mentions of cockwarming, sub! Reader, blood kink, unprotected sex, praise kink, biting, marking NOT PROOFREAD
As someone who's morality was basically non-existant, and who's view on the world was very similar to a certain harbinger, it was no surprise that the Fatui had approached you after your expulsion from the Akademiya. You, of course, agreed. Even way too enthusiastically - some might say. It didn't take long for Il Dottore to appreciate your work.
As a medicine student you didn't leave room for failure, and your cryo vision proved to be quite useful whenever your master's test subjects were being too... difficult.
Your relationship didn't remain professional for long, it was only a matter of time until the Doctor realized how sickly obsessed you were with him. It amused him how you were even willing to be one of his subjects, trusting him with your life. Despite everything, you knew he wouldn't kill you - he was too used to your presence at this point.
The nights when he usually would just sit, filling out various documents were spent more pleasantly with you cockwarming him, ans giving him some advice while doing so. After work he would bend you over his desk, your moans a music to his ears as you chanted his name like a prayer. He believed his actions to be driven purely by lust, not once indulging you whenever you let out a breathless 'I love you'.
That illusion soon shattered, due to your careless scheming. One especially lively specimen was subjected to your own experiment. You weren't afraid to put your life at risk, and if Dottore were to save you - it would surely mean he felt the same way, right? At least that what you told yourself while loosening the man's restraints while he was unconscious.
When it was time for a test, the doctor instructed you to wake up your subject. You obediently walked over to the man, opening up a flask with a liquid which awakened the brain almost immediately. As expected, you has no time to react before the man grabbed you by the neck, slamming you on the table next to him. "Fucking bitch." He wheezed out to your amusement. Somehow he still hasn't lost his voice.
Dottore's stoic smile faded as he noticed your lack of vision. How careless. The subject was crushing your throat as you instinctively tried to get away, but to no avail. He was an enhanced human after all. Your eyes met the doctor's mask, who clicked his tongue and with one quick motion cut off the brute's hand. "Touching MY assistant? How brave of you" He chuckled, watching you stagger back and lean against the wall, wheezing and coughing.
The trial was wrapped up rather quickly, and once the segments got rid of the subject, Dottore mentioned for you to sit on his knees, which you gladly did, wrapping your hands around his neck. He pulled his mask up, revealing those wonderful crimson red eyes. "I suppose you had something to do with today's... issue, yes?" He asked, squeezing your thigh.
His touch alone sent shivers down your spine. "Perhaps. I may have wanted to test you this time." A sweet smile graced your lips as you played with your master's hair. "I knew you would help me. Your loyal worshipper... I wonder if your feelings will match mine, someday." You giggled, sinking your teeth into Dottore's neck.
He didn't complain, instead his fingers sank further into your flesh as he gasped, feeling you draw blood. You moved away, lapping up the red liquid and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. He hummed in amusement, cleaning your lips with his tongue.
"I can overlook this disobedience. I must admit it would be quite unfortunate if you died, especially from someone else's hands." The last words came out as a whisper, as you felt gloved fingers trace the marks of another man's hands. "How bothersome, I will have to cover those marks with my own. Were you hoping for that to happen?"
The question was rhetorical of course, he already knew the answer and began marking you by sucking and biting on all the red spots. Your gasps filled the otherwise quiet lab, loud enough to let all the segments passing by know, not to disturb their creator.
Dottore pulled away with a playful smirk, admiring your flushed face, glossy eyes, slightly parted lips and that needy look. He motioned for you to hold on, to which you wrapped your legs tight around him. He carried you over to his bedroom - which was mostly now yours considering the fact he doesn't sleep much and you still do.
All the segments passing by in the hallway either did their best to ignore you two, while some of the younger ones couldn't seem to look away. They always were curious about you, but unfortunately for them - in the absence of the original, you always were found around his newest versions, mostly the ones that had already developed some feelings towards you.
Not bothering to properly lock the door, Dottore's lips attacked yours as soon as he stepped into the room. He laid you on the bed, climbing on top and not once breaking the kiss, which grew messier with every second. You knew better than to keep him waiting and reached down to unbutton your pants. But before you did so, the harbinger slapped your hand, clicking his tongue. "I want to take my time with you today, (y/n)."
Hearing your name fall from his lips made you whimper. You don't get to hear it often, but when you do - it's enough to melt you. "Using our names now, Zandik?" You teased him, well aware that you had the similar effect on him. His gloved hands traveled under your shirt, tracing the delicate skin and cupping your breasts. "I suppose you got me in the mood today." He said, pulling back and getting rid of his lab coat, revealing the clothes beneath and that slutty harness that you adored.
He pressed his fingers to your lips, and you understood what he wanted you to do. You bit down on the glove, pulling it off. He did the same with his left hand, and threw the pieces of clothing somewhere across the room. He unbuttoned your shirt, really taking his time now. If it were any of the segments you would get impatient, but it was rare for your real lover to not be in such a hurry. You savored every moment.
Your hands traveled to his stomach, silently asking for permission to get rid of his shirt. No words were exchange, instead a silent agreement in a form of him pulling you into sitting position so he could pull down your own clothing. You weren't as patient as you'd like to be. You fumbled with the buttons, cursing under your breath. Dottore chuckled, but was interrupted by you pulling him by the harness, his laugh dying in your lips and turning into a low groan.
Each of you hastily discarded your bottoms, growing too horny to wait. The bulge in his boxers was painfully obvious, the sight alone causing your mouth to water. "You're drooling darling." He teased, causing you to roll your eyes and pull down his last bits of clothes. "Can't help myself when you look so good." You replied, licking a straight line along his shaft, to which you were rewarded with a sharp hiss. You lapped up his precum, careful to not let even a drop go to waste.
You felt the doctor's hand on your head, his fingers grabbing onto your hair, as you took him all in. You could hear him mutter praises as you choked on his veiny cock, your tongue caressing It gently. He pushed your head further, so that your nose was now touching his skin. You looked up at him, as his eyes were now barely opened, pupils dilated and filled with lust. "That's my good girl." He muttered out, scooping up a single tear that fell from your eye.
Dottore used your mouth like his fleshlight, ruthlessly pounding into you, as you grabbed onto his hips for some sort of support. Your groans sending vibrations down his long dick, causing your lover himself to groan and pant heavily. As he could feel himself getting closer his moves came to a halt as he pulled out of you with a 'pop sound.
Before you could even say anything, he roughly flipped you onto your stomach, pressing your head down into your pillow, and plunging into your wet cunt without a warning. Your muffled moan echoed in the room, as Dottore circled your ass with his palm. "Fuck, you're so wet already. Such a good fucking girl." He whispered into your ear, thrusting his hips roughly, one of his hands reaching down to masage your sensitive clit.
The rhythm of his movements was fast, the room was filled with your noises and loud sounds caused by his flesh colliding with yours. Dottore's cock stretched you so perfectly, as always. It was like you were made for him and only him. Your nails dug into the silky sheets as you let out a breathless gasp when his tip was hitting that sweet spot. "Oh fuck, dear Archons..." You mumbled into the pillow.
At your words, your lover grabbed you by the throat, pulling you up so your back collided with his sweaty chest. You held onto his leather harness for support, as Dottore pushed his fingers into your lips, leaning into your ear. "I am your Archon, darling." He groaned out, and proceeded to bite into your shoulder. A silent scream left your lips as your hold on the harness tightened.
The sensation of his dick pounding into you mercilessly, his fingers abusing your poor clit, as you swirled your tongue around his other hand were all too much. "Za-andik 'm close!" You managed to whimper out, to which he pulled you closer. "Then cum for your God, darling." He demanded, muffling your desperate moans with his lips on yours. Salvia dripping from the corner of your mouth, as you grabbed onto his bicep, nails breaking skin and drawing blood.
Waves of pleasure caused your legs to tremble, your body momentarily weakened as your grip on Dottore gave out, making you fall limp onto the soft bed. The doctor's movements didn't slow down even a bit, but they grew more irregular as your walls clenched around him. His breath hitched and his voice was strained. "Such a good girl —ah! 'm gonna fill you up." He managed to mutter in-between grunts, not even realizing you were getting drunk off his voice when he was in such state.
The harbinger grabbed your ass roughly, pulling you as close as possible as his seed filled up your plush walls. A low moan escaped his lips as he laid above you, body almost giving out. You could feel his dick twitch inside you, which was the most wonderful feeling in the world. After what felt like forever for him, the doctor laid beside you, cleaning the drool from your face with his fingers.
Your eyes half lidded, the serotonin was quickly wearing off as you buried your head in your lovers chest. "Stay with me tonight?" You asked hopefully, only earning a hum of agreement in reply. Dottore played with your hair, lost deep in thoughts about whether he truly began to reciprocate your feelings. Perhaps he was.
He sat up for a moment to get rid of his leather harness, causing you to look up at him questioningly. Was he actually willing to stay with you for the first time? You did get your answer once he resumed your previous position, as he hesitantly kissed your forehead. Maybe it was time to explore his newfound feelings.
#dottore#dottore x you#dottore x reader#dottore x y/n#genshin dottore#genshin impact dottore#genshin x you#genshin imagines#genshin x reader
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EX HUSBAND ALHAITHAM
— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — ex! husband alhaitham headcanons
— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — fluff, crack??, [ex]plicit, fem! reader, just a sprinkle of possessiveness but not detailed, kaveh is a paid actor in this
ex! husband alhaitham who will transparently accept your decision to the divorce, in defiance of his own individualistic judgment about your commitment. Truthfully, and as far as one can tell, he was anything else but delighted by it, yet he was aware that he couldn't force such decision out of you, quite bothersome— he thinks.
ex! husband alhaitham who will come off as decidedly snotty in the first couple instances of your next meet ups, but when you propose the rational idea of keeping a distance between each other he will blatantly refuse it and assure you that he still considers you as his best friend regardless of the vexing circumstances of your failed relationship.
ex! husband alhaitham who you undisputedly trust when he guarantees you that he's over the entire situation just as much as you were, no, he in fact did not think you both would get back together but it was a logical process to look after a 'friend', so he doesn't understand your sense of reluctance at first. Yes, again, you're free to do whatever you want as long as you both continue to harvest a flourishing friendship.
ex! husband alhaitham who will keep a sprinkling of his own belongings in your home even after he moved back into his old house— he will always assure you that he's going to get them, really, once he's free from working but he never does. It's a secret (and beneficial) way of forcing you to see random possessions that will remind you of him.
ex! husband alhaitham who still pays things regarding your entire house, even though he isn't living there anymore— though he wants to do it regardless. When you proceed to tell him that it's okay, you got it covered and you can't be dependable on him forever he's warily accepting it but will then silently outlay several bills behind your person without ever telling you— because it's really not a big deal and he doesn't understand why you're making it one.
ex! husband alhaitham who will quiz kaveh more often now after your divorce to stealthily find out about your latest happenings or if you've bumped into another relationship thus far. In the early stages, your friend kaveh wasn't pleased about aiding your ex in this taxing scheme, but in the fullness of time he will be exceptionally beguiled into thinking it's to assure you're doing okay after the divorce.
ex! husband alhaitham who had the splendid idea to meet up for dinner (or lunch) at your once shared house periodically, giving no additional elaboration to it— as he put it, it's to fortify your innocent cordial bond, without having any ulterior motives behind the sudden urge.
ex! husband alhaitham who will ridicule every budding relationship (or friendship) that would embark into your space but he'd do it dubiously respectful as well as passive aggressive so you initially won't catch onto it. Whenever someone would claim to know a particular fact about you, ex! husband alhaitham would beg to differ and instead, correct them.
once you're asking ex! husband alhaitham to tone it down a little— otherwise some might think you're still a couple or rekindling, he's retracting the question to you and ask if you're really okay with someone spreading misinformation about you.
ex! husband alhaitham who will downrightly tell you that no matter the coeval occurrences, you are still his person and that he frankly isn't interested in dating or pursuing someone else, he'd rather just focus on work and live a comfortable life with you by his side, he didn't care if you're his friend or spouse.
ex! husband alhaitham who will be— for once, at loss of words when you're telling him to stop making it so challenging, that there was a reason you have decided to call it quits and that he's only making it more difficult for you to fully move on. And the moment he'd perceive that he'd ask you what you meant by 'fully move on'. have you not entirely moved on yet?
ex! husband alhaitham who will take a step closer to you now, yet leaving enough space in between your bodies to not unanticipatedly overwhelm you when his eyes slowly blink over yours, demanding the truth. On how his breathing was quickening, you knew there was something he did not show you or was meant for you to be seen.
ex! husband alhaitham whose skin will be covered in goosebumps the moment you place your hand on top of his chest, right above his pounding heart. He's watching you closely and not once, averting his gaze from you. You do not talk, neither does he— it's as if you both had left it to your bodies to speak.
ex! husband alhaitham who couldn't hold himself back anymore and drew your face towards his with your chin tugged in between his thumb and pointer finger, placing a fine kiss on your sweet lips— he immediately registered just how much he missed the trifling touch of you, or the comfort your glow would convey on his, as if you were touching his hidden soul through nothing but a amiable trace.
ex! husband alhaitham who will deepen the kiss, heaving as to try to catch his own breath when you push your tongue past his lips, toying with his wetness with your arms tightly enclosed around his neck. Somehow, everything you knew had become muddled and dimmed, it's all the more difficult to let go when it came to someone like him.
ex! husband alhaitham who will kindly shush you with a chime of sweet, quick kisses while pulling you towards your once shared room, assuring you that whatever will happen after this moment, you'd get through it together— as a team.
ex! husband alhaitham who will be more animated than any other days you both had been intimate with each other, from someone who was commonly laid back in the process of it all, he now wanted to see and witness it on his skin, soul and touch. It was excruciating to catch onto his fondles and meet ups, how needful the both of you had gotten from the warm kisses.
ex! husband alhaitham who'd gently push you on top of the mattress and skillfully kick your legs apart with his knees to dwell amidst your thighs. The moment he's entirely on top of you, you had already intuited his stiffened cock beating within the confinements of his pants. He's grinding himself into you— appearing almost feral by how nasty and unyielding he was, but you loved it, because you have missed him so very much.
ex! husband alhaitham who will spoil you the whole night as to show what you willingly gave up— he wants to make sure it's engraved in your body, the trace of his soft lips, the loud darts of his tongue, the warm slurps of his mouth drilling past your folds to collect the slick that was only meant for him to taste and treasure.
ex! husband alhaitham who will decorate the inside of your thighs with gentle nibs and bite marks because at this point the control over his own emotions and needs have been kindly dwindling away. He can't recognize himself whenever he's intimate with you, whenever he's on the brink of release, it feels like he arrived where he should be, in a comfortable space with the love of his life.
ex! husband alhaitham who will kiss from your clit up to your lower stomach— smooching your belly twice, then prod his tongue out and lap all to your collarbone until finding solace on your neck, guzzling on the skin simultaneously to hovering his tip over your entrance. When he perceives your legs automatically spread farther and wrap around him— as you always did prior to the divorce, it will make him lose his mind.
ex! husband alhaitham who will set a unmanageable maddening tempo, in order for him to gape into your face and see all the sweet reactions coming from his thick cock fitting so perfectly inside of you. He notices the twitch in your brows, the gentle cradle of your lips— in a sweet pout, or how your eyes are huddling together but feebly trying to open up and see him, to thank him through nothing but your expressions.
ex! husband alhaitham whose head will suddenly feel heavy and if it wasn't for it resting against your forehead, he'd be sure it'll flop into your neck on how passionate the surroundings have gotten. He's readjusting himself and pulling your legs up so he could easily push them into your chest, his muscles were tensed and you noticed how controlled his breathing was, he's glowing and appeared majestic in front of you.
ex! husband alhaitham who would, in any other circumstances, have troubles talking about his feelings, mouth a fragile 'I love you' and making sure you see it. When he notices your eyes widen at it he's certain you know that, fuck, the entire divorce has been eating him up from the very within, if you discard of him, he wouldn't know how to react, what to do or if he's supposed to just walk away from you.
ex! husband alhaitham who will pick up the tempo on his hips the moment you return the sentence to him, when you tell him that you still love him, that you shouldn't have gone so far as to break off this marriage, but instead work more on the reappearing problems which were encountered in your marriage.
ex! husband alhaitham who senses the warm tears bubble out from the outer corners of your glassy eyes and who's swiftly sweeping them away with his thumb, leaning close until every warm exhale of his breathing coats your plump lips.
ex! husband alhaitham who before releasing his white seed in you, pauses the tumbling mess on your soiled cunt and buries himself deep to the hilt, leaving you to whine at the fullness of his heavy cock in you, begging him to mess you up with his cum.
ex! husband alhaitham who watches you in a concentrated manner— within a logical approach, because you belonged to him, he never saw it in any other form, even after all he still saw you as such, his spouse, the person he called upon whenever he was in need of company.
©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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Make or break
Dottore x fem!reader
THIS PIECE IS NSFW MINORS DNI
Angst, blood, mental abuse, stockholm syndrome, neglect, gore, torturing, murder, vaginal sex, corruption, choking, manipulation, swearing, reader spiraling into insanity, use of Dottore's presumed real name, not proofread
"Zandik wait up!" You yelled, running after your project partner. Honestly, why were you assigned to him in the first place? Of course, you didn't complain all that much, he was definitely one of, if not the smartest student in the akademiya. Also, he was quite easy on the eyes. Still, you two were nothing alike, the clash of personalities surely would make an impact on your ability to work together.
The man rolled his eyes at your loud behavior, but slowed down anyway. It would only be a hassle to him if you got lost or died, not to mention he would have to bother with another useless student. At least you were actually somewhat competent. You stopped right behind him to catch your breath, before looking up into his crimson eyes. "Archons, how are you walking so fast..." You mumbled before straightening up.
He didn't reply, so you too decided to ignore him, continuing your journey into the depths of Sumeru. After a while you two had gotten to the area that you knew a thing or two about. "Scholras shouldn't wander in here." You stated, looking at your partner as he scoffed. "What, you going to snitch on us?" He asked with an evident annoyance, to which you chuckled and shook your head.
"I was just stating a fact. I did actually sneak in here a year ago when working on a project." You replied, carefully heading down the cliff. That actually managed to amuse your companion. Maybe he had the wrong impression of you. You managed to catch his attention, which now was focused solely on you.
"There are some ruins around here that we can research. Though, there are some... obstacles in the way." You told him, to which he raised an eyebrow. "Some of khaenri'ahn machines. I didn't dare get close before." You explained quickly, making Zandik even more impressed. "I suppose we should manage if it's the two of us." He replied, following your lead for the first time.
You actually felt quite proud of yourself for getting his approval. Truth be told, you didn't expect the two of you to get along. You knew he was keen on bending the rules, but you had no idea he would straight up break them with you. Cautiously, the two of you made your way inside the ruins. You took your notepad and started writing down your observations.
Meanwhile, Zandik cautiously slipped away, noticing a peculiar machine. It appeared to be an inactive ruin guard. He kneeled In front of it, examining its parts. The core was completely in tact which was quite unusual. Just as he reached out to take it, he heard a peculiar sound.
You froze in your spot, looking behind you, noticing that your research partner was nowhere in sight. "Shit" you cursed under your breath, quickly tucking your notes away and rushing in the direction of the sound. You rushed into a spacious room, your eyes searched for the familiar man, and before you could say anything to him, a ruin hunter glided in from another room.
To say you were scared would be an understatement. Sure, you saw some of these machines around, but not ones like this. Not ones that were active. Your fingers trembled as you grabbed your sword. You manages to parry it's first attack, but the second one you barely dodged. The blade sliced your arm, making you scream out in pain.
Zandik thought about what would be the most beneficial move. He hid behind a fallen pillar, but finally decided to stand up. The sight of you, at the machine's mercy was somehow amusing. Still, he could benefit from saving your life. You would feel indebted to him after all. Scanning the ground he found a broken polearm, but it would do. With an outstanding precision, he managed to hit the beast right in its 'eye', making it fall right next to you.
You snapped your head in your saviors direction, letting out a sigh of relieve. "And here I was, wanting to rescue 𝘠𝘰𝘶." A chuckle left your lips after saying those words, but it was cut out by a wince. Zandik's eyes darted to your would, as he let out a sigh. "How bothersome. Sit, we'll take care of it. I have some strong numbing cream in my bag, please apply it." He said, as he went to fetch your bag which you left in the other room.
When you thought he was about to do something nice, the man actually took his time to think. Truth be told, he probably wouldn't taken on the machine by himself if it wasn't distracted. Maybe, just maybe you could actually prove useful. Just then, an idea popped into his head. Such a sweet and relatively naive girl. You weren't cautious at all by defending him so recklessly and telling him about bending the akademiya's rules. What if he completely broke you? If your mind wouldn't take it, he could dispose of you anyway.
When he made it back, he looked at you. Sitting there on this fallen pillar, smiling at him weakly and clutching your arm. You thought his smirk was directed at you, but in reality it was at his own wicked thoughts. He would 𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 you. Slowly but surely. A puppet he could control. That's your destiny.
After a week of your research, you were confident that you had gotten close to Zandik. He revealed to you his fascination with khaenri'ahn technology, and to his delight you actually agreed with him, except you didn't actively try and solve their mysteries. It only made you even more of a perfect candidate for his own experiment.
Unfortunately for you, your research has concluded. Time passed without you getting to see Zandik. At least thanks to your partner's special medicine your arm healed almost perfectly in such short amount of time. You didn't dare ask him about what was in it, he was still very secretive and you knew better.
You and your friends were hanging out in a Cafe, chatting about what you all have been up to. "You know, I'd rather walk around ruins than watch the sky every night and note EVERY little movement. Which there is almost none." Your friend complained, making you chuckle.
"Aw, but that's so much more romantic!" You exclaimed, hiding how you may have gone into restricted area... and how you got attacked. "Sure, if I had a partner. But we don't need those for such things. Speaking of which... Who did you get partnered up with?"
Just as you were about to open your mouth, Zandik himself strolled into the Cafe. When his eyes met yours, you gave him a light smile. He just mentioned for you to follow him and left. You were stumped. Should you really leave your friends and go after him? Maybe it's something important?
"Sorry, I'll be in a Minute." You said and left without explanation, much to your group's surprise. "Hi Zandik." You smiled at him, this time it was wider. He didn't look to pleased as he crossed his arms. "(Y/N), were those girls your friends?" He asked, making you tilt your head ever so slightly, confusion clearly visible on your face. "Huh? I mean, yeah. Why are you asking?"
The man clicked his tongue, clearly frustrated. "Don't worry about it. There's this test coming up in a few days. Since you said you're not good at the subject I thought I'd lend you my notes." He said handing you his notebook. You blinked a few times. "I-I did mention that?' You asked him skeptically.
The scholar narrowed his eyes at you. "Don't tell me you don't remember." He huffed, visibly annoyed. "I wanted to help you study actually but since you're with... friends, I guess we won't be doing that." Your heart skipped a beat when he offered to help you. Archons, you were starting to act like a high-school girl. Getting all embarrassed about your classmate trying to be nice.
"Ah... I suppose I can leave already. We were planning on a night out anyway. I'll just let them know and we can go to my place." You told him, before turning around and walking into the Cafe.
Zandik's facade was quickly dismissed, he couldn't help but to laugh out loud. It didn't even really occur to you that he had checked your grades and figured it all out himself. It was the easiest excuse to let you feel closer to him.
The study session was coming along well. The two of you sat in your room, which did make you feel a little uncomfortable due to the fact you didn't have another man over in quite a while. Nevertheless you managed to focus and actually did get quite a lot done.
"Are you hungry?" You asked suddenly, meeting Zandik's eyes. You could never get over how unusual they look. "Hm, perhaps a bit. Why?" He asked, closing the book and 'accidentally' brushing his hand against yours making you blush. Of course, it didn't go unnoticed. "I-I thought about making dinner. I could make some for you too, what do you say?" You tried to smile as sweetly as possible.
Your desperation to not be left alone was actually kind of amusing. "That's fine with me. I'll clean this mess up." He stated, gesturing at the various papers and books scattered across the table. You thanked him before rushing to the kitchen.
Of course, Zandik didn't plan on just cleaning. He had a whole plan already in motion. When he heard you loitering around the kitchen, he did a few more things around your room. Only when he was finished, he moved onto actual cleaning.
When you walked into your room you couldn't help but let out a surprised gasp. The sight of a man, sleeping peacefully on your bed made your stomach twist and your heart beat faster. Should you wake him up? Let him sleep? Instead of either you took your sweet time examining his facial features. The urge to move his hair out of it was growing stronger by the second. Fortunately for you, he finally stopped playing around, and opened his eyes to look at you. "I apologize... mind making me some coffee to this dinner?"
That night when you tried to go to sleep tou couldn't stop sniffing your pillow. Was it creepy? Yes. Were you embarrassed? Also, yes. But for some reason it smelled so good. What you never noticed was a small vial, smelling like pheromones, just laying in your trashcan.
You were getting ready for your night out, clothes done, make-up perfectly marched. And there's a knock on your door. Who could it be? You opened it just to see Zandik himself. Bloodied, his clothes torn as he almost fell into your arms. "A-Archons, Zandik!" You rushed to him, helping him get to your couch. "W-Wait here, I'll get someone to help!" You exclaimed, and just as you were about to leave, he grabbed your hand weakly.
Pulling you closer so that you stumbled and basically fell on him, getting his blood on yourself. "Please don't..." He pleaded meekly, looking at you with cloudy eyes. You didn't even mind getting your clothes ruined, you were too occupied with having a heart attack right now.
"Okay... I-I'll just grab some stuff to help you. I'll be in a second!" You got up way too fast, making your head spin a bit, but you had to get away. And you had to keep your partner alive. Fortunately you knew a thing or two about stitching people up so it shouldn't be a problem. Once you got back you stripped his upper clothes, leaving his torso bare.
You couldn't help yourself. Even in such a dire situation you were checking him out. His ever so slightly defined muscles, his pale skin, it unfortunately for you made you quite aroused. But only if you didn't look down to see his wound bleeding profusely.
After about an hour of cleaning and stitching you were done. Zandik dozed off somewhere in the middle of it, but you made sure to check his pulse every few minutes to be certain that he is in fact okay. Exhausted you sat next to him, removing your makeup and sighing.
Zandik never told you what happened. He spent the night at your place, and told you not to ask any questions. He still was nice enough to thank you. Of course, you were certain it had to do with his private research. Maybe you should start helping him with it.
Some time has passed. Your friends were mad at you, and you couldn't blame them. You stood them up for Zandik more times than you can count. The two of you sat in a library as you told him how you were feeling because of that. He scoffed. "So, they would rather have you leave me to bleed out. Some friends they are." He pointed out, making you think about it.
"You don't need them, (y/n). You have me now, and I have you to help me with my research." He added, making you blush again. It would be a lie If you said that you weren't falling for your partner in crime. Because you were. Hard. And maybe he was right. Your friends only cared about having fun, and not about their futures.
You took your second bag that you brought with you and handed it to Zandik. "I was actually near the chasm during the weekend. I brought you this." You said, watching his eyes as he looked at the contents. Various parts of machineries definitely made in khaenri'ah. He raised and eyebrow, questioning how did you even get your hands on these, since you're not a particularly skilled fighter.
Sending a sly smirk at him, you put your finger up to your lips. "A girl can't disclose her secrets. Just be grateful." You replied, to which he chuckled quietly, as not to disturb anyone. He really did start to be a bad influence on you. How marvelous.
You jumped a bit when Zandik pet your head. "Well aren't you a good girl." He whispered. You in turn went red in the face. Completely. "S-Stop!" You whisper-yelled at him, trying to cover your embarrassment. You felt his finger slip under your chin as his crimson eyes looked at your lips. "Hm, and here I thought you might like an award..." He whispered out, sending shivers down your spine.
Yeah, you most definitely already fell for Zandik in that moment.
Having a crush on your partner caused your whole life to be doomed. Just three months ago you two were assigned to each other on a project. And now you were locked up, in a cave, for at least 2 weeks now. You've only seen him once a day to bring you food, but he didn't talk, he dismissed all your empty threats and pleads.
The loneliness started getting to you. The weeks turned into a month and a half. Without any human contact. You were drained. But that's when Zandik finally said something to you. He said "You will assist me today. If you do well, I'll give you a reward." He said, making you perk up. At this point you would do anything for some touch, some contact. You nodded your head. He still didn't trust you enough to let you roam free. He gave you a collar and a chain.
"Well don't you make a fine pet." He laughed, stroking your dirty cheek. When was the last time he let you bathe yourself? A week ago? Probably. It was hard keeping up with the time in a cave without a sunlight. "W-Where are we going?" You asked him, but he didn't reply. You took that as a command to stay silent.
He led you into what looked like a lab. There was a person, chained to a wall. "(Y/N), I suppose you remember your friend?" He asked, making your eyes widen. Indeed, it was one of your late friends. At the mention of your name, she lashed out, screaming and struggling against her bindings. "You stupid bitch, it's all because of you! If you ha-" She was silenced by a kick. Your kick. You couldn't help it.
Hearing her swearing you out, blaming you for her suffering. Just who was she? She was the one who left you. A laugh escaped Zandik's lips, it still made butterflies swell up in your stomach. He pet your head, just like all those weeks ago. "She's a failed experiment, as you can see." And indeed you could.
All the bruises, cuts covering her body were nothing compared to her arms which were weirdly deformed. "You see, my research wasn't just about khaenri'ah. I want to be stronger. I want to enhance human DNA... Putting it as simply as possible. And you know what we're supposed to do with failed experiments?" He asked, giving you his sadistic smile.
You nodded your head, staring down at the girl who's nose was bleeding. Her screams falling deaf on your ears. Zandik handed you a surgical knife. "Don't worry, this time I will actually reward you if you do well." He said, caressing your cheek. You blushed, and glanced at him. At this point you would do anything for him to acknowledge you.
You lunged at your late friend. Her arms were too weak to even stop you. She kicked you, but at this point you didn't even care. With a precise swipe you sliced her throat, stepping back with a satisfied smirk. You didn't even realize that it made you feel good. Because the next thing made you feel even better.
You were sitting in a small pond in a cave, finally having a chance to get clean again. Zandik was behind you, washing your hair and holding your chain so that you wouldn't try anything. "You're a good girl, (y/n). You did so well... You might just be my finest experiment." He laughed.
You turned around, to look at him. "Say it again." You told him, and he decided to indulge you. "Oh? You want to be called my good girl again?" He teased, making you tug on the leash and pulling him into the pond. Just as he was about to tear you apart for misbehaving, you pressed your lips against his.
Zandik was surely getting rid of many of his human weaknesses. Still, he never thought about getting rid of his lust since it never got in a way of anything. Except for now. When his lips moved in sync with yours, his sharp teeth drawing blood and making you yelp into the kiss. He took it as an opportunity to further explore your mouth with his tongue.
He pressed you against the edge of the pond, lifting you up a little so you would sit there. He got rid of his soaked shirt as his fingers explored your bare body. Your lips again clashing in a needy kiss, his palm groping your soft breast as you moaned out. His other hand pulling your thighs apart so he could get even closer.
Your own hands traveled down his chest, as you began fumbling with his pants. Once you managed to unbutton them, you freed his member. You just had to break the kiss to glance at it. Your mouth started to water just at the sight of it. You wanted to trace the vein that went through its whole length. But just as you wanted to reach out, you were pushed back.
He didn't even wait. Just pushed his dick right into your entrance. "Ah, fuck..." He mumbled out, ignoring your cry of pain and pleasure. You wrapped your hands around his neck, trying desperately to ground yourself. All the last bits of your sanity melted away when your lover began thrusting his hips. His peace was fast and rough, his growls and moans made you even more needy.
His lips and teeth leaving marks on your sensitive neck as you screamed out his name, your nails digging into his back drawing blood. "Such a good fucking girl." He muttered into your ear, causing your walls to clench around his dick, earning you another set of swear words. Zandik pressed his hand to your neck, cutting off the blood flow, causing you to gradually lose vision. Just as you were about to tap out he stood stopped, trying to chuckle but getting interrupted by his own groans of pleasure.
His hand went on to play with your clit, you bit his shoulder to try and stop your moans, to which he roughly pushed you back. "Za-andik please...!" You pleaded, not even sure what for. Slowly but surely his thrusts became more irregular, as he ducked in for another kiss.
None of you really lasted long due to the lack of sexual contact in quite a while. Your release came first, legs shaking, eyes closed as your mind went blank, and your partner couldn't help but feel satisfied with himself. When he felt your nails digging into his back again, he too came right into your cunt.
He didn't bother to pull out, he took his time getting off the high. Panting and looking at you with a smirk. You opened up your eyes, to the sight of him. Just as you leaned in for a kiss, Zandik pulled away, content with how quickly he managed to break you.
He made his way out of the pond as he tossed some clean clothes next to you. "Ah, by the way I have been expelled. We'll be departing to Sznezhnaya in a few days. Get ready, pet." He added, before leaving you to clean himself up. Of course, he wasn't finished with you yet.
I apologize if this felt kinda rushed, it's my first longer work. Also will probably make a part 2 if I don't decide I hate it.
#dottore#il dottore#dottore x y/n#dottore x reader#dottore x fem!reader#genshin dottore#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin imagines#genshin fanfic
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find the difference between those two pictures
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[3:57 PM]
alhaitham couldn't help but admire how the golden rays of the setting sun bathed your sleeping form that draped over his body, your head resting on his chest (that he does not understand your obsession with), he was helpless at the way his heart skips a beat at how positively ethereal you look.
sighing, he slowly closed the book so he doesn't rouse you with his movements. he refused to read it to you aloud when you first snuggled up to him in bed, but all it took was one look from you and the adorable pout on your lips (that he had to hold himself back from kissing you breathless) coupled with a sweet "but i love it when you read to me, it makes me feel so relaxed" for his resolve to crumble.
“i told you you'd fall asleep halfway like you always do.” alhaitham spoke softly, running his fingers through your hair.
you stir in your sleep, making him freeze, but you just mumble something about cats and tea before nuzzling your cheek against his chest.
"though i guess i can never deny you of anything can i?" he simply chuckles to himself, wondering what you could possibly be dreaming about.
pressing a soft kiss against the crown of your head, alhaitham wraps his arms around you as he feels sleep slowly takes it claim over him. "i love you, (y/n)."
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Fem!Reader x Alhaitham, bit of angst, fluff, comfort, estabilished relationship, possibly ooc alhaitham?
Reader feels inferior and unworthy of her lover, who decides to prove her wrong. (Not proofread)
"Are you stupid?" Dehya asked, taking another sip of her beer. "Wait, don't reply. It's my time to talk." She continued, while glaring daggers at her friend - you, and you couldnt help but feel stumped at the way she interrupted her ranting.
"(Y/N), you were enrolled in the akademiya, you're one of the best fighters I have seen and yet you do actually claim to be dumb?" She asked, but didn't even leave time for an answer. "Yeah, I don't buy that. We both know that Alhaitham wouldn't even glance at you if you were right."
She was right - of course. She always was. That's why you were her best friend. But still, the insecure part of your brain wasn't listening to a word of this conversation. A sigh escaped your lips, as you chugged your wine as if it was water. "I'm just saying... if I didn't drop out, I would've failed my classes anyway." You mumbled out the last words.
Just as the mercenary was about to chew you out, she looked behind you and smirked. "Finally, I was thinking you were bailing on us." She said, making you turn around. You saw the rest of your friend, Cyno and Tighnari, along with a certain scribe.
"I apologize, i lost the track of time." Alhaitham said, as he placed a hand on your shoulder. Despite being in relationship for almost a year, you couldn't help but blush at his touch. "It's alright, at least you guys are here now." You replied with a hint of a smile, placing your hand on his, as he sat next to you.
The five of you spent time playing Genius Invocation TCG, chatting and drinking. The rare night out with friends almost made you forget about your insecurities. That is, until you were thrown Into a lose-streak, making you irritated, much more when you were intoxicated.
"Hm, you should have used this one." Said the scribe, pointing at your wolf's gravestone card. His remarks didn't help, even If you knew he just had your best interest at heart. You huffed and tossed your cards onto the table. "Fine, I surrender." You mumbled, to which Cyno shot you a grin. That's his 5th win in a row.
Your mood gradually went downhill from there. You downed another glass of wine before standing up. "Alright guys, I'm calling it a night. I'm too drunk to play anyway." You said, noticing how your boyfriend glanced at you, before getting up himself. "I suppose I shall be leaving as well. I'll walk you home." He said, sneaking a hand around your waist.
Everyone said they goodbyes, but when Dehya pulled you into a hug she whispered into your ear. "You better talk it out with him." Making you grimace. There wasn't much to talk about, really. You just had to accept you weren't much compared to your partner. Still, you nodded harfheartedly and departed.
It was late, not many people out in the streets. Alhaitham still had his arm around your waist, and he couldn't help but to notice you haven't been yourself lately. "Kaveh actually left for a week this afternoon. I thought you'd maybe want to stay with me for a while? We didn't get to see each other lately after all." He said, the tips of his ears turning bright red. All this time, and he's still not used to having you for himself for such a long time.
Unfortunately your response wasn't something that he had hoped for. Not excited or embarrassed like always. Instead you just hummed, much to scribe's dismay. He had stopped in his tracks, making you turn to look at him. His beautiful eyes full of worry, as his hand made it's way onto your cheek. He was glad it was late, at least not many people were around to witness his act of affection.
"Will you finally tell me what's wrong with you lately?" He asked bluntly, caressing your cheek. "You haven't been yourself, and frankly it's troublesome. It's making me worry about you, not only is it hard to focus on my work, I'm also starting to think you're not content with your relationship." His words made you shake your head instantly, and take his free hand in yours in an act of reassurance.
"No, no 'haitham. It has nothing to do with you I just..." You let out a heavy sighed, as your eyes darted away from him. "I think you deserve more. Than me. I'm not really good at anything, I'm not smart like you. You can't have intellectual conversations with me. I think I make you... bored you know?"
Tears welled up in your eyes at the thought of the love of your life leaving you because of that. You were brought back by a flick on the forehead. Alhaitham couldn't believe his ears. His eyebrows were furrowed, as he pulled you closer.
"If we were interested in the same things there wouldn't be much to talk about, really. Besides i actually enjoy indulging you when you bother me about some obscure facts." He admitted, making you smile just a little bit.
"I'm going to say this only once, (y/n). I wouldn't change you for anyone or anything else. You are enough. I couldn't be bored with you, even if i tried. Don't sell yourself short. I... Like it when you tell me some facts about flowers you picked up while on a trip in Liyue, or various other things that I usually don't care about."
You didn't even notice the stupid grin forming on your face through your boyfriends whole rant. He really did make you feel loved. You pulled him into a passionate kiss, trying to let him know how much you appreciate him.
"Thank you, 'haitham. I needed that." You said with a soft smile. "And I'd love to spend the week with you." You added, taking his hand In yours. A shadow of a smile appeared on the scribe's face, as he caressed your hand with his thumb. "I'm glad to hear that."
Dehya watched from a far with a satisfied smile on her face. Her left hand reached out to Cyno, who rolled his eyes and tossed her a bag of mora. "I told you, he has a soft spot for her." She said with a smirk. Tighnari just shook his head at the two.
#al haitham x reader#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x fem!reader#genshin x you#genshin imagines#genshin x reader#genshin impact#genshin alhaitham#alhaitham x y/n#alhaitham
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2023
1. BECOME 50% MORE GOTH
2. HANG OUT WITH FREAKS
3. ABANDON THE FEAR OF LOOKING STUPID
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