#alhaitham x yn
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As We Are, We Will Be
Summary: A nonsensical question is proposed in one singular moment between a stoic and stoic face in one singular universe.
Word Count: 9k (It was supposed to be short and sweet-)
Tags: Alhaitham X Fem! Reader, Smut, NSFW, Fluff, a lot of fluff, slight angst, soulmate au, slow fic, established relationship, married life, Soft! Alhaitham, attempts at comedy, mentions of aging, slightly jealous! Alhaitham, mutual pinning, soft sex, vanilla, safe sex (wrap it up), riding (cowgirl), fingering, slow sex, making love, really bad expatiations of scientific theories and math, just two nerds in love.
Authors Note: Happy belated birthday and Valentine's Day to my favorite dendro nerd. A continuation of this piece, one I hold dear. A thought experiment based on nothing more than the feverish delirium of love.
It was just for a moment.
A mere pasting instance in the contentious momentum of time when a glimmer caught your eyes in the muddled chatter of a crowd, a silver shimmer like starlight.
Interrupting your contemplation as your eyes impulsively search for the source.
A late morning on a Saturday, the markets and stalls were lively with families replenishing a week's worth of groceries. Bodies veering and easing through the bustle of the busty streets.
The wide breadth of life that moved all around you. Like a collection of small dots within the vastness of a universe.
But amid the vast collection of blurry faces were the flicker of silvery locks refracting the late morning light. Originating from a pair, an elderly lady and an elderly man, their aged hands intertwined.
Time had made her marks upon them, and gravity had pulled down on their wrinkled faces. Yet, the ends of their lips were pointed toward the sky. The corners of their eyes wrinkled as their gazes held each other's faces.
From their view, do they not see the starlight hue of their hair? Instead, do they still see the vibrancy and youth of their locks which age had stolen from them?
The image of each other reflected in their irises, was it from a time before the hands of gravity pulled on their creased skin and bowed bones? Would you ever be able to find out?
“I wasn’t aware you had a hobby of people-watching.” A baritone voice ghosts over your ear.
Jolting your head to your right, you come face to face with the interruption. Or perhaps, your mind finally registered Alhaitham’s presence just off to the side of you. His arms were weighted down with various bags.
Oh, that’s right, the markets and stalls were lively on the weekend with families restocking groceries for the upcoming week. You and Alhaitham were no different.
Glancing up at his ashen trestles and then scanning back at the starlight locks of the elderly couple, and then back to your husband.
“Hmm, not quite. Just noting the fact your hair is the same color as an old man’s, Haitham.” You catch the subtle twitch of his brow.
“Is that so? I hope you are aware you’re not immune to the inevitably of aging, wife,” Alhaitham returns your jest.
“Well, with your hair color and grumpiness, I’d say you’re already halfway there.”
“I needn’t expound on your equivalent levels of grumpiness, it won’t be long before your locks share the same ashen hue.”
“I guess that’s why we get along then, dear husband.”
“That’s one theory,” he huffs, a simple tone lacking any bite.
You pan your face back toward the crowd, partly because it’s getting harder to hold the neutral position of your lips, partly because your curiosity aches for an untold conclusion.
However, when your gaze returned to the ever-bustling sea of people, the pair of starlight hues were nowhere to be found. It was regrettable, but expected, the elderly couple were nothing more than a pair of strangers in a crowd full of unfamiliar faces.
They were just a brief scene that disappeared into the moving tides of people.
Leaving you with your unresolved musings.
“Is there anything else we need for the week?”
Alhaitham’s voice reels your consciousness back, swiftly you check the crinkled slip of parchment within your hand. Scanning down the list of written items, all with a neat little line crossed through their immaculately penned letters.
“It looks like we got everything we need.” You tuck the list into your pocket.
“Then it’s best we get home before our groceries are spoiled by the heat.” Alhaitham readjusts the bags in his hands.
A hum takes its place as your response. Pivoting your body in the direction of your shared home. From the corner of your field of view, his strides were paced to coincide with your shorter steps.
Studying the numerous bags occupying his hands, you can’t help but think it’s quite convenient to have someone as robust as your husband. Maybe it's these weekly grocery runs that are the secret behind his physique.
Discreetly, your hand slowly slips between the gap of his arm and body, linking your elbows together. So that your frame and his could withstand the push and pull of the crowd’s contentious momentum.
The neutrality of your lips had long slipped away, softened by the familiarity of his warmth. Even as your eyes were pointed on the path ahead, you had an inkling that a similar occurrence was mirrored on his lips as well.
An inquiry your curiosity didn’t need to peek to resolve.
That ache for an untold conclusion morphed into a new musing by the afternoon.
The silver shimmer from that elderly couple’s hair truly was like starlight. Perhaps that’s the correlation that steered your thoughts down this winding path of pondering.
Everyone, from those taking their first stumbling steps of youth to the slowed cane-assisted tramps in their golden years, is technically billions of years old. Or more accurately, the atoms and minerals in everyone are billions of years old.
The carbon in muscles, the calcium in bones, and the iron in blood were all forged in the hearts of bygone stars. When those bright beacons burned out they exploded in one last finale, expelling those materials across interstellar space. Stardust that found its way here.
Here within you, and here within the slow breaths of the man in front of you.
After being around for billions of years, does stardust ever get exhausted?
That would be a sensible explanation for why Alhaitham had snuck away amidst hanging up freshly washed laundry.
His tall frame stretched the expanse of the couch as his starlight lashes were shut, shamelessly relishing in a nap under the streams of sunlight trickled in from the window.
Squatting down you observe the guiltless expression plastered over his resting face, still deep in the trenches of sleep, a small huff passes through your lips. Well, this morning you did have him carry all the groceries from the market back home.
Your husband does deserve this little nap.
Trailing your eyes down his neck you note the lack of a pillow, then as your gaze travels further you note the absence of a blanket as well. Internally, your mind tsks at this forgetful habit of his.
Although his body and yours still have youth coursing through your veins, it doesn’t mean they’ll remain as impervious as they are now later down the line, especially if preventative measures aren’t taken.
Like having a pillow to support one’s neck, or a blanket to prevent chills from plaguing the body.
Standing back to full height, you retrieved the missing artifacts, returning with a plush pillow and light comforter.
Even when his head was momentarily lifted to make space for the pillow, and when the spare comforter was draped over him, Alhaitham didn’t stir one bit. At times you can’t determine if he’s a light sleeper or if his stubbornness refuses to leave the plain of dreams.
It’s a true wonder of life how Alhaitham’s able to sleep so soundly at night given his extensive naps.
The vivid sunlight illuminated patterns upon his cheeks and trestles, causing the ashen strands to dazzle in their refraction of the afternoon light. A sight your eyes just couldn’t help but be enraptured by.
Maybe you could blame the warmth of the sunlight, or maybe the serenity of this quiet Saturday afternoon, or perhaps even these fickle inquiries about his naps for the yawn that left your lips. Now might be the prime time for some research.
Lifting up the comforter just enough for an opportunity to slip through, your body settles in the space right against his. It’s crowded on the couch, the cushions unprepared for two bodies to occupy its entirety, the open edge looming against your back.
Even after all the shuffling and pressing against his dozing frame, your husband didn’t budge a bit.
Leaden lashes still shut and lips set in that all too familiar line, chest rhythmically rising and falling in time with yours. The very image of unperturbedness under the blessing of sleep.
“You really are like an old man.”
At that mere jab, the corners of his lips tugged down while his eyes remained closed. A quick slip that confirmed your earlier suspicions.
“Who knew you were so talented in acting, Haitham,” you snicker.
A muscular arm soon enveloped your form, further pressing you against his chest as if to silence any more sardonic quips from entering his ears.
It was quite the challenge to stifle those giggles before they could erupt from your lips. Peeking up, there’s an ever-so-subtle lift at the corners of his mouth. An express which yours mirrored.
Studying the details of the lips just a breath away, a new musing worms its way into your thoughts:
When the hands of gravity and time start to pull down on his skin and yours the same, leaving wrinkles and creases in their wake, will the edges of his lips still curl like this?
Would yours mirror the same?
A second yawn sneaks past your lips as your lashes grow heavier with each fluttering blink. Claiming a corner of the pillow to lay your head upon, the seconds between each subsequent blink grew longer and longer until your lids were too heavy to lift.
Perhaps the stardust in your bones was exhausted, craving a short rest in his warmth.
--------------------------------
There’s something against your back and your legs are tangled in something, sensations which gradually alert your dozing sense back from the fog of slumber.
At first, you only had the strength to peek open one lid, then promptly shut it. But in the nothingness behind your eyelids, something was halting your limps from stretching the weariness out from themselves.
You tried again, this time fluttering both sets of lashes apart ever so slightly. There’s a dry film coating your throat and mouth, feeling the impressions of the couch cushions and bundled comforter imprinted into your skin.
What time was it?
Blinking away the haze of sleep just enough to notice how the golden rays of a star were missing. A gray overlay was plastered over the living room despite the ticking clock hands displaying that it was late afternoon.
Peering back through the window behind, observing the congregating insipid clouds blocking out the azure sky.
A sure sign of rain despite the morning forecast. Rain… wasn’t there something left unfinished on the clotheslines outside? The groggy recollection of responsibilities creeps into the forefront of your mind.
The reign of your weary limbs slowly returns, and your legs languidly attempt to stretch out from the reveal they were caught in. However, their movements only caused a pair of longer limbs to ensnarl them further.
Alhaitham’s legs promptly caught yours, stifling any prospect of escape.
Your displeased whine was responded with a disgruntled groan by the man keeping your body locked against his.
Wasn’t your back looming just about the edge of the couch when you fell asleep? So why are you in this position now?
Your body wedged between the plush backing of the couch and his solid frame, the comforter swaddling you also didn’t aid in your immobility. Brawny arm draped over your waist, halting your feeble squirms at freedom.
“The laundry,” you mumble.
“Later.” A blunt interjection from a groggy voice.
“It’s going to rain.”
“Less than a 30% chance.”
“Haitham…”
Your husband simply burrows his head deeper into the leveled pillow, likely an attempt to leverage the cushy material to block out your grievances. His ashen lashes still stubbornly shut, much to your displeasure.
“Alhaitham.”
No fluctuations in your volume nor tone, but it was enough for one teal eye to peek out from under ashen lashes. Trailing up to a subtle frown to the furrow between your brow, then finally meeting your unamused stare.
“Laundry,” you try again.
A silent stare down, one stone face gazing upon an equally stoic face, like an immovable object pressed against an equally immovable object.
Which one will defend their title of most stubborn today?
His chest expands with a deep breath, grasp enclosing around your waist before his teal gaze shamelessly vanishes behind closed lashes. Robust frame pinning you further to the back of the couch as he continues to ignore your huffy floundering.
“Release me, don’t you dare-”
Your grievance was soon muffled by a gentle hand pressing your cheek into his palatial chest. A move that stupefies the irksomeness bubbling within until it falls defeated into placidness.
“Whether it be now or later, they’ll be clean regardless, it’s quite comfortable right here.” The resonance of his voice vibrates in his chest.
You respond with a humbled grunt. In terms of strength you’d always lose to your feeble husband, wouldn’t you?
There’s no point in peering up, for the pleased satisfaction of his resting face would bring a sour taste to your tongue. Thus, you merely adjust your limbs, coiling your arms around to his back and pulling his form closer.
It’s crowded on the couch, it’ll be troublesome if Alhaitham were to slip off the edge if his back were to stray any further.
At this distance, entangled so closely together, the soft beats of his heart in time with yours like a rhythmic lullaby beckons the heavy to return to your eyelids.
The gentle drumming of his heartbeat coaxes out a final sigh from you, lashes descending down as your vision dims back into the realm of slumber.
Slow breaths and heartbeats homogenize into a tender duet, tranquil enough to distract from the sporadic pattering against the glass and gradually increase in consistency.
A less than 30% chance of rain doesn’t mean that there’s a greater than 70% chance of no rain. It’s merely a statistical probability of 0.01 units of more precipitation at a given area in the given forecast area in the time period specified.
Known as the precipitation probability, calculated based on two factors:
The forecaster's certainty that precipitation will form or move into the area X The areal coverage of precipitation that is expected, then multiplied by 100.
Thus, if the forecaster were 90% certain that 30% of the forecast area would receive rain, then the forecast displayed on screens would read as a 27% chance of rain.
A crucial bit of information that seemed to have slipped his mind midst a quiet afternoon.
A troublesome miscalculation Alhaitham tsks at internally as he wrings out the pillowcase into a sink before tossing it back into the washing machine. Button-down shirts and blouses, wrinkled from the process of twisting out as much rainwater as possible, sat in damp piles awaiting their turn to be rewashed.
As he measures out the detergent he can hear the rattles and clanks of the pot and pans from the kitchen. A late dinner in preparation, a task which was supposed to be his this week.
When he woke up to the pattering of rain drumming against the window panes, the afternoon long gone, it stirred an ever-so-sinking pit of dread. Second only to the unamused stare of his wife as she replicated an overconfident statement:
“Less than a 30% chance, Alhaitham?”
How unfortunate it all was, that the area where this quaint house resides was part of that 30% of the forecasted area.
Teal eyes watch the bedsheets whirl and fumble as they spin in the wash, contemplating the circumstance and further action.
There is only one spare bedding set in the closet, so it’d be wise to allow you to have it for tonight as all the sheets and covers get rewashed and dried.
Your bed is about the same size as his, so two bodies wouldn’t have an issue fitting. At this rate, the two of you just slept in whichever bed was the most convenient.
However, given the current state of things, Alhaitham wonders if he should prepare himself to brave tonight on his bare mattress with a flimsy spare blanket and pillow.
He might as well return to the couch for tonight if that was the case.
The accumulation of all the years of science, mathematics, and research, Alhaitham wonders if there was ever a bright mind who came up with a formula to calculate how displeased one’s wife is.
What would be the factors plugged into the equation? And how accurate would it be?
More specifics needed to be gathered, something the man couldn’t do in the refugee of the laundry room. Thus, Alhaitham must brave a journey into the kitchen. His slipper-clad footsteps are slow and methodical as the kitchen appears from around the corner of the hallway.
Sights honed in on your back as you stood by the stove, a rich aroma wafting through the air.
Sleep still dusted your hair, evident in the few unruly strands sticking up erratically on your head, you made no attempt at fixing it. One hand is too occupied with stirring the pot on the stove, and the other set upon your hip.
Your stance wasn’t exactly tipping the scales in his favor.
Cautiously, Alhaitham made his way to you. Stopping just a few paces as your eyes peer over your shoulder, stoic gaze halting him in place just a few paces away. The faded imprint of the crumpled blankets and couch cushions on your cheek.
His hand twitches with the urge to run his thumb along the impressions, but rationally warns him of the consequences.
“The laundry?” No discernable tone in your voice.
“Everything has been collected and wrung out, I’ll rewash everything tomorrow.” It’s best to answer your questions this time.
“Hmm, they were out in the rain for quite a while now. They were dripping out onto the floor when you brought them in.”
“I’ve mopped away any rain and mud tracked between the back door and laundry room.” Teal eyes quickly checked the aforementioned area to ensure they were pristine before returning to you.
“Hmm.” You turn back towards the stove.
The soft ticks of the clock accompany the waning drums of raindrops against the glass, the kitchen hood whirring as a ladle continues to stir in a pot. A quiet lull engulfed the home. Treading on the side of caution, Alhaitham inhales deeply.
Without opening the box, one will never be able to confirm to fate of Schrödinger's cat.
“What’s for dinner?”
“Hmm? Well, it’s raining tonight, what better to eat on a rainy night than some Sabz Meat Stew, no?”
He’s careful to not sigh too audibly, lest he goes to bed with a stomach half-full of instant noodles and that miffed stare of yours.
Alhaitham decides to hold his tongue as teal eyes continue to watch you add more spices to the pot. Studying how nicely the apron is tied around your waist.
But it wouldn’t be wise of him to stand so close when the fabric of his shirt was still damp with rainwater transferred to him by the soaked laundry and sky.
His chain of thought was interrupted by the chimes of your phone on the countertop, catching your eyes as well as his to peek at the over. A certain name is displayed across the screen. It’s as if the hands of fate wanted to throw more salt into his face.
Bahram (Manager)
It’s a Saturday night, for what reason would an employer need to contact an employee so late?
Alhaitham’s focus shifts to your gaze which is still honed in on the screen. A bitter tinge crawls up the tip of his tongue, threatening to spoil his appetite. Perhaps, he wouldn’t mind settling down in his bare bed with just a spare comforter without dinner tonight.
“Can you reject the call for me? He can wait until Monday to get me to resolve whatever he messed up,” you scoff before rolling your eyes back to the stove.
Swiftly he swipes to decline the call, let your voicemail remind Bahram of the concept of ‘off time’. The phone whirs again right after the first rejection, but he simply swipes decline again.
Pushing the device away with a bit too much satisfaction in his veins.
Glancing back at your frame, he lets out a sigh as he relents. Resting his head into the crook of your neck, careful to leave a bit of distance between your bodies and to not hamper your shoulder’s movement.
“Hm?” You hum expectantly.
“It was my oversight tonight.” A string of words a bit unfamiliar on his tongue, but stubbornness hasn’t been in his favor tonight.
“And?”
“I’ll be more cautious regarding naps.”
“Hmph.”
The lull returns, him resting his head on your shoulder and you continuing to watch over the stew. Teal eyes on you and your eyes on the stove. Until your shoulders raise with a deep inhale.
“Go get changed out of that wet shirt then set the table, this bastardized version of ‘soup’ will be ready in 20 minutes.” You reach for a skillet just off to the side.
He hums this time, the liberation from treading in suffocating lull tugs at the end of his lips. He surmises that laying his head against you for a few moments more won’t be so consequential.
The patter of raindrops still splattered against the glass panes of the window, drops which warped and blurred the scenery beyond the glass. Not that there’s any scenery to look at, not with the dreary clouds crowding the sky.
A heavy sigh huffs through your nose, curling onto your side as you adjust your pillow.
A filling dinner, a warm shower, and soft comforters. Factors that should contribute to a restful night’s sleep, or at the very least make your eyelids weary with the weight of lethargy.
Yes, perhaps those components should’ve granted you entry into the reprieve of a dream.
If it wasn’t for the fact you’ve intruded into the domain of slumber twice already today.
And the tempter who lured you to do so currently has his arm wrapped around your waist.
Alhaitham’s chest rises and falls against your back, soundly asleep without an ounce of guilt over the predicament he’s partly responsible for.
Lifting your head off the flattened pillow, your body twists around to fluff the stale stuffing back up before settling back to your position.
His body rested against yours just as it would any other night. But there’s a weight at the corners of your lips, one only grew heavier as your ears witnessed each content exhale resounding from the man who seemingly stole your sleep.
If you were crueler, you would’ve exiled Alhaitham to the couch or his barren mattress.
However, he’d probably sleep just fine regardless.
Canting your head up, you flip your pillow to the other side once more.
Your rolls and rhythm were abruptly interrupted by the clasp of two harsh hands pulling your hips into his, the contours of his rigor now digging into the plush of your ass. Forcing a stunned gasp up your throat.
“It seems like my wife has quite a bit of energy.” His timbre deeper from grogginess.
Ah, all the twisting and turning you did just to adjust the troublesome pillow must've disturbed him.
The softness of your ass cradled against his pelvis through the thin material of a button-down, an item borrowed from his closet that you’ve designated as sleepwear, and his sweatpants.
‘Serves him right.’
Your attempts to twist out from his iron-clad hold only ground your ass more against the stiffness, earning a grumble from his lips.
“Oh? And who’s fault is it?” You retort, still protesting in his hold.
Snaking one hand downwards Alhaitham presses against your lower stomach to arch your ass further into him. Leaning his face closer to yours.
“Do you want me to take responsibility?” His whisper ghosts over the shell of your ear.
You could feel the pads of his fingertips tracing under the loose button-down.
“Shouldn’t you resolve the issues you’ve caused?” A huff leaves you.
The outline of his shape pressed along your skin, the plushness of your bottom contrasting against the rigidity.
“I can say the same to you.”
The pads of his fingers trail up your heated skin, crawling along your torso, feathering touches alighting your senses like sparks. Massaging the tired yet restless muscles. You sigh in contentment.
The billowing button-down dragged up by his vascular hand, unveiling your skin to the cool sheets. Wandering touches slow as they rest in the valley of your breasts. His fingers enclose around one mount, gently twisting the defenseless nipple.
“H-hey! Hmph-“ Barely catching a moan before it fled past sealed lips.
“Hm?” His lips are now right next to your ears. “Surely you foresaw this, I’m just helping my wife with all her excess energy.”
His forgotten hand made its presence known as it kneaded your hips, cunning touches breaching under the feeble defenses of your panties. Effortlessly brushing them to the side, long fingers encroaching closer to their destination.
Your thighs react, squeezing together to prevent him from venturing further. Unfortunately, it was all in vain, for his fingertips already dipped into an all too familiar sap.
“See, you seem quite eager,” he taunts.
Stubbornly, your body attempts to buckle away from his influence. Face firmly pointed away from his lest he peeks at your heated cheeks.
Alhaitham abandons the perch on your breast, two large hands attempting to tame the bucks and rolls of your hips. He releases a slow sigh into the crook of your neck.
“Are you not feeling it tonight?” His hands remain where they were, but the strength missing.
At the lack of resistance, your hips seem to have lost interest in their writhing, staying within his yielding hold. Internally, you chiding your body for being so straightforward. The only thing blocking an answer from exiting your throat was that fickle ego of yours.
“Won’t you allow me to make up for my blunders today, wife?” He soothes his hand along your leg.
With that stubborn ego of yours still biting down on your tongue, you simply nod your head. Feeling the heat of your cheeks reflected to you by the pillow.
Permitting your thighs to give into the tow of his grasp. Allowing the grip of one large hand to pull your bent leg open, exposing your vulnerable cunt. Shielded from the view of the raindrops by a mere blanket.
The hand snaked under your waist took swift advantage of the oppurtunity. Sliding one firm finger down to part the fold of your slit as his warm hand cups your greed.
Alhaitham continued with the caresses of his fingers. Your lashes and lips pressed tightly shut, your leg still held in his tender hold. His slow breaths brush ghosting your skin.
He spreads the slick along your slit, the tips of his fingers ever so often knocking against the bud at the very top. Teal eyes catch the sudden jolts of your body every time it happens.
He moves his fingers downwards, slowly parting the now soft folds of your core. Feeling the subtle puckers of your entrance as his touch traced closer, more wetness dribbling out from the honeypot.
The tip of his finger now encircles the fluttering hole. Your hip subtly bucked into his hand, as if to lure him in a soundless plea.
Breaths getting deeper as your eyes follow his touch, the warm pad of his index finger twirling against your clit. Stoking a burgeoning fire with each slow circle. Your placid sighs fill the lull.
His middle finger ventures past the entrance of your satin walls welcomed with a lewd squelch. Curling his finger against slick walls to test the give, he wonders if this hidden oasis is etched into his shape yet.
Diligently, his digit continues to sink in and out of your weeping hole, making your teeth sink into the flesh of your bottom lip. The squelches increased in volume as trickles of nectar began pooling on the sheets. Walls clamping around a lonely finger, it wasn’t enough to quell that mounting heat within.
A second deft finger joined in, sliding past a hungry entrance. A tangled dance amongst gummy walls as they curled and stretched the space. The lewd squelches resounding in your ear, a whimper trapped in your throat. The heel of his warm palm now pressed flat against the soft mound of your cunt, every movement of his hand resulting in a grind against your clit.
Each grind causes a hot flash to shock throughout your body, starting from your curled toes to the very top of your head. The jostling of your hips and legs gradually expels the blanket off the bed.
“Mmph!” A whine from a sudden surge of bliss when his thick fingers curled against a spongy patch deep within.
“T-there! More there!”
Your body writhes, no longer docile under the white searing pleasure frying the ends of every nerve within your being.
He gladly obliges. Unrelenting rhythm slipping in and out of your convulsing walls. Ensuring to grind against that spongey patch.
Your body twitches and flails in reaction. Trying to find some way to handle this surcharge of sensations.
Legs instinctively wanting to shut together as if to cease this turbulent sensation, unfortunately, your pitiful strength gave no resistance against his rigid hold.
Piqued by the sweet tune, Alhaitham watches the scrunch in your trembling brows. He repeats his actions, another mewl leaves your lips as your head leans further into his shoulder.
The mellow pace of his fingers suddenly amps up, retreating out only to clap back in as his palm presses into the twitching bud.
“Ah! Haitham.”
A pressure mounting up, a sirens call beckoning you closer and closer to a hazardous cliff’s edge. The only foundation for your sanity is thousand-count fabric, thus you twist the silk fibers as tremors overtake your body.
Walls clamping down to trap his thick digits inside as it spasms. Muscles tensing and quivering as your back arches away from his chest, parted lips with nothing choking past them.
Three thick fingers sink deeper into your pussy without a hint of resistance, as a reward he makes sure to roll your overstimulated clit in firm circles with his palms. Judging from the violent tremors in your legs, it seemed you were almost there.
Just at the cusp of rapture when your hand tangles into his ashen-locks, canting your head back so that your panting lips could capture his. Alhaitham returns to gesture with just as much fervor in his kiss, swallowing down your sweet mewls for himself.
With a singular gasp, the siren’s call had beckoned your sanity to drown in the murky depths. It’s as if you lost control of your body to the possession of pleasure.
Eyes rolled back and lips broke away as breathy moans escaped the prison of your throat, a haze heavy over your thoughts, pride long lost amongst the gale of an orgasm.
The beckoning depths of euphoria welcome your descent.
Your limp frame rests against him. A light layer of sweat coating your panting chest, blurred vision merging and blending the details of the ceiling above the bed.
Alhaitham coaxes the contractions of your core, riding out the waves of their squeezes and sucks against his fingers. Earning an addictive whimper from you when his digits pulled away. Entranced by the glimmering string of nectar stretching between his fingers and your oasis.
Trailing back up to your face, he notes the return of your hazy irises from their ogle of the bedroom ceiling.
“Better?” Teal gaze watching the pants of your chest as they steady.
‘No, not at all’, a statement just at the tip of your tongue, but your lips were busy attempting to grasp deep breaths. The surplus of vigor festering into unquenchable desire. To be closer, deeper, more. You needed more.
Where words fail, action must take its place. Even before your mind finishes up the scheme brewing within, your lips catch him off guard, plush lips embracing his in a tender waltz.
Your body rolls back so that your breast can press against his chest through the thin fabric of his stolen shirt.
At the tender caress of your kiss, teal eyes disappear behind ashen lashes, the clasp of his grip loosening. Allowing you the mobility to finally pull your body on top of his, lips never once parting until you were finally settled atop his broad body.
A certain stiffness makes its reintroduction against your roused clit.
Breaking the seal of the kiss as a line of salvia stretches between your tongues, arms pushing against his firm chest to prop your body up as you gaze down at him.
“Still have too much energy?” Haughty eyes peer into yours, yet you can see the ardor oh so thinly concealed behind the brilliant teal.
“What do you mean? Aren’t you the eager one?” You hum, rolling your hips against the rigidness trapped behind the prison of sweatpants.
“Hmm.” He sucks in a breath through his teeth.
Large hands feel down along the plumpness of your ass as they drag a flimsy bit of fabric down your thighs. Daintier hands pull down the hem of sweatpants and briefs.
A fair exchange. Him helping you out of those ruined panties, and you freeing him from a compressed prison of cloth. Discarded and forgotten along the floorboards as the fog of passion obscured them from further consideration.
His vascular hands slide down the curves of your body, settling on your hip as your legs plant themselves on either side of his body. Alhaitham coaxes the hem of his stolen button-down just above your midriff. Sharp eyes surveying the puffiness of your clit, glistening with temptation.
Lowering your hips a breathy sigh leaves his lips and yours as the ridges of his cock drag against your slick folds. A few slow rolls starting from his leaking tip sliding down, thick veins skimming against your swollen clit. Precum mixing with arousal in a sinful concoction along his length.
Perhaps he should convince you to participate in more naps if he knew it’d make you this excitable.
“Oh,” you hum aloud, pausing your hips as you reach over to the bedside table.
Pulling open the drawer and rustling about a box followed by the crinkling of foil. Holding up the corner of the packet to your lip, tearing the foil while your gaze held his. Taking your time in dragging the condom out from its package. Easing it down his length while your fingers traced along, feeling each twitch and shudder.
“You sure do know how to test my patience.”
“Hmm?” You feign innocence.
A pair of shaky breaths mingle as Alhaitham helps position his engorged tip at your dripping entrance. Your hand guides him while raising your hips.
Other hand pressing his chest down for support as your thighs sink back down, a shameful squelch accompanying heavy breaths as your walls welcome his cock’s fat head.
Weeping pussy engulfing his girth in bit by bit until you clit kisses his pelvis. Sending jolts of searing pleasure that caused your satin walls to twitch and tighten.
Releasing a breathy sigh as you gather your senses.
Drawing out his cock inch by thick inch, sloppy trails of arousal caught on each ridge before dropping back down. Earning low grunts and sighs each time your satin walls swallowed his girth. The rhythm of your hips is paced and controlled despite how Alhaitham’s fingers dug into your skin.
A whine living your drooling lips with each slap of his skin against your clit. Pushing each tantalizing inch to stroke your starved walls until his skin claps against yours with a wet kiss. The bedframe creaks with each calculated movement, back and forth, back and forth the wood sings along.
Your head was light, intoxicated by a feverish potion of lust and desire. Feeling him reach the deepest depths, fat tip grinding against those spots which made your legs falter momentarily each time.
Utilizing the strength of both your arms now to support yourself. However, the jolts of pleasure that shot up your spine with each roll of your hips were too maddening to stop.
His calloused fingers massage circles into your hips. Squeezing the plush flesh to ground his sanity, watching your lewd face as you shamelessly bounced on him for your pleasure. Observing the subtle ripples with each slap of your hips and the jumps of your perky breast.
The ghostly touches of your fingers skim across his lips, prompting his eyes to connect with yours. Lush and glossy lips parted with your deep pants as your lust-hazed eyes peer down at him, unspoken plea inscribed within them. Who is he to not fulfill your desires?
Lurching his upper body up, he answers your plea, capturing your lips with his. Swiping his tongue against your bottom lip, deepening the kiss. A messy and feverish tangle as if to replace the air in your lungs with his.
Mewls and whimpers muffled by his skin, your hands moving to perch themselves on his broad shoulders. Your quivering legs grew limp as the strength of his hands took over. Barely processing the sweet nothings whispered as your core relishes in the fullness. Like an ache that’s been finally satisfied.
He wondered if tonight’s excessive vigor was fraying his control, or if your body was just this addictive.
By now any notion of decency and integrity has long left you, your hand clawing into his shoulders, marking him with the scars of rapture. A harsh thrust of his hips recoils through you, a wanton moan reverbing off the walls as it forces your tangled lips to part.
Tongue unable to produce anything other than strained moans, your head nods into his broad shoulder as your hips ground against his. The wet squelch announces the reciprocation of your walls.
The intervals of those unrelenting rams increasing between the tender thrusts, half-lidded eyes trained on the shivers of your body. Cock sliding against satin ridges of your wall. Grunts and pants reverberate through his throat, teeth clenching as your heat engulfs him again. Reaching deeper into your welcoming core as your lips fall open.
“Is this not enough?” You could feel the mirth in his whisper.
Closer, deeper, more. You want more. Walls aching for more, for his girth to jostle your core more, to extinguish this all-consuming heat within you. Hips floundering in harmony with breathy mewls.
Pressing libidinous kisses along his throat feeling the vibrations of his grunts and pants, a deep chuckle was soon felt against your lips.
“Good grief you are a greedy little thing aren’t you.”
A deafening slam of skin resounds through the heavy air, swiftly followed by another and another. A new tempo in this waltz of passion takes over like a wave sweeping both of you out to a sea of indulgence.
Possessed by the desperation of chasing a white light, your hand rakes deeper into his toned arms. Seizing anything to prevent your mind from abandoning your sinful body as his girth twitches within your velvety folds.
Sanity like a foolish sailor who’s beckoned by the lure of a siren’s voice, uncaring of the rocks which will sink them to the very bottom of the bemused tides. Keening against your husband shamelessly, a shameless wife on the cusp of her second fall into ecstasy.
The heavy scent of lust, the smothering heat, his unrelenting and unshakable thrusts amalgamating into the spark that lit your nerves alight. Toes arched into the air and eyes reaching the back of your head. Sobs and incoherent babbles resounding through the room.
Your devious walls clamped around his dick with maddening convulsions, gummy muscles suckling against his girth eager to quell your aching greed. It was too much.
His fingers claw into your soft hips, pressing your cunt flush against his hips with a sloppy slap of skin. The bulbous tip prodding against that weakness deep within you. Bruising grip holding your body in place as his lips crash back into yours.
Swallowing down his breathless groans with your sweet mewls and praddles.
A heat is spilled into the rubber, making your greedy walls quiver amidst the aftershocks of ecstasy. Alhaitham’s hips twitch with each subsequent rip of his orgasm, thrusting his length further into your crowded cavity with each one. The filthiness of it all prolongs your sinful depravity.
Chest expanding with pants, your lopsided shirt falling further down your shoulder. Your eyes return from seeing blinding white, exhaustion drenching each fiber of your body.
Limp figure crumbling against your husband as his back lays back on the creaking headboard. Even before your worn mind could conjure a coherent thought, your hands caress his starlight tresses.
As his own breath evades him Alhaitham releases one hand to cup your cheek, thumb brushing softly against your smoldering skin, guiding your lips back to his.
Basking in the warmth forged between your bodies, between drumming heartbeats and breathless lungs.
Two bodies lay under silken sheets, skin freshly wiped clean of sweat as the crisp breeze brushed against the curtains gradually erasing the sinful haze. The cool air aids your rising and falling chest to pace itself.
Muscles and bones heavy with fatigue, yet your eyes couldn’t bring themselves to retire behind shut lids. Not when those dreary clouds have finally retreated.
The moon hangs high in the sky, finally free from the shroud of rain clouds, she sits among the twinkling dots. Twinkling dots were in actuality brilliant stars, some even larger and brighter than the beloved sun.
Glimmering lustrously as they traverse through the contentious vacuum of space and past other nameless stars. A scene from a late-morning market trip wanders its way back from the depths of your memory, bringing its musings with it.
“Something on your mind?” A timbre voice beckons your conscious mind back from its trek.
Teal eyes set upon yours as your heads rest on plush pillows, just a breath away from one another.
“Hm, just senseless musings.” Your gaze shifts away from the window.
In a changed world with millions of hands will your hands and his find each other to make two pairs of hands?
In a different time with a million pairs of legs, will your steps and his steps still coincide in time with each other
In a new life with a sea of new faces, will a stoic face and another stoic face spot each other in the crowd?
What is the likelihood of those odds?
“If you keep letting your thoughts fester, it’ll only bring trouble upon yourself in the morning from sleep deprivation.” He shifts his position, supporting his cheek on his fist as he stares down at your face.
You sigh because he spoke exactly what those whispers of rationale were urging you, but the scoffs of pride had deemed these rampant inquiries ‘childish’. However, it’s a bit hard to avoid his eyes now.
“I was just musing about the soulmates concept again,” you confess.
Alhaitham hums in curiosity.
“Do you…” You take a deep breath, forcing the hard-to-vocalize question from your tongue. “Do you think we’ll only be together in this life?”
He’s silent. Just the muted chorus of Summer crickets rejoicing over the conclusion of a rainstorm resounding through the space.
“In a different time, a different universe, or the next life, do you think we’ll be soulmates again?” You muster together the courage to peer up at his face.
“I don’t recall ever reading an article or paper related to this topic, so it’ll be convoluted to get an answer.” He brings his other hand to his face, signifying his musings.
Right, there isn’t even a definitive answer for what happens after life passes, an afterlife, a cycle, or nothing, no one knows. Was this the only universe where life exists or are there infinitely many far out there in the stars? Does anyone know?
Your hand pulls your blanket up to your face, partially to cover the growing shame creeping up your face. That haughty voice within was right, these baseless questions are silly and childish. Perhaps even too morbid to bring up so unprompted on this weekend night.
What were you expecting Alhaitham to even do? Did you want him to give you an answer? What can he even do? A question you can’t even begin to understand, why would you even expect him to have some solution prepared?
What to do now? Can you just take back your previous words from his memory, so he’ll just forget what you said? Maybe just ask him to quell any more mindless musings from plaguing you tonight by placing his lips on your forehead? So that you could finally drift into the realm of slumber.
However, is that temporary solution enough? Enough to stifle the contentions and riddles clattering together into a clamorous ruckus in your head? Could sleep even spare you from their tumult?
“The Membrane Multiverse Theory or reincarnation, hm, do you have any personal theories you’d like to share?” The sensation of his fingers grasping yours brings you back to reality.
Glancing at him with a quirk in your brow, you wait for him to continue.
“Who knows, maybe we’ll be the first to publish something for this topic.” His thumb runs along your knuckles.
“So, is there a speculation or possible rationale you feel particular to?” Teal eyes reconnect with yours.
“Well…” You sigh, relishing in the warmth of his hand as you concoct a half-baked theory.
“There’s stardust from stars that had burst billions of years ago, that have somehow ended up on this planet. Subsequently, every being on earth has the atoms of stars in them. So, naturally by the law of conservation, the earth is where the atoms of the human body will return.”
“Based on the law that atoms cannot be created or destroyed?” He drones.
“Yes, they all had to come from something before them. The carbon in muscles, the calcium in bones, and the iron in blood. The atoms that make up you and I might become part of something else, or even of different people too.”
“Hm, that sounds probable.”
“But, then this brings up a whole new host of questions, such as, if the new people our atoms become a part of are even ‘us’? Will they ever meet? What if you become a tree and I a rock? What if the atoms of you end up on one side of Teyvat and I on the other end?”
You peer into his irises, but you were just searching for an answer that isn’t there.
For his beryl irises were impassive. But it was the impassive foundation you needed to ground your rambling thoughts and nonsensical musings into the desolate truth of it all.
The warmth of his hand slips away.
“Never mind, I suppose it’s the most logical to conclude that we’re just soulmates in this instance of time, in this universe, and only here.” Your hand closes over the empty space he left.
Maybe it’s wise to dismiss it as silly rambling and then withdraw from his indecipherable eyes. Is it too late to put this plan into motion now?
The weight of a muscular arm is draped over your waist, hand pulling you closer unlike your ploy to escape.
“But I have a few theories I haven’t shared yet.” He glances out toward the bedroom window.
“While the theory of reincarnation currently doesn’t have any solid scientific backing, in some way, the law of conservation of mass does give a bit of merit to that notion.” Alhaitham draws circles into the small of your back.
You hum in response.
“The atoms that created us will return to the earth after us and become a part of something or someone else’s molecular structure. A tree or a rock, a human or a beast, it’s all probable. However…” Beryl eyes return to meet yours.
“What’s stopping them from repeating the same molecular structures as right now?” He asks.
Maybe it was his turn to peer into your eyes to search for an answer, an answer currently brewing and forging between your united gazes.
“What’s stopping these atoms from returning to these exact molecular structures in the future? In a different time, the atoms of us now could one day in the far future come together again and make ‘us’ once more. Maybe just you, maybe just me, or maybe both at the same time.”
He frees his other hand from the duty of supporting his head, broad body settling down into the bed and blankets, allowing his face to move closer to your level upon his pillow.
“What’s the likelihood of those odds? Me and you again?” You ask.
Alhaitham pauses. All the bright minds of science, mathematics, and physics, have yet to come up with a formula to calculate such a thing.
What would be the factors plugged into the equation? And how accurate would it even be?
The ashen-haired man wasn’t sure, but there was at least a statistical observation that would provide some basis.
“A true 0% chance is an absolute impossibility, just as nothing can be proven absolutely 100%. Since we don't know the absolutes of time, existence, or physics. So, there’ll always be a non-zero chance.” Feeling the drums of your heartbeat against his chest.
“Then, when they do, I think I’ll spend my life pondering what could fit into the spaces between my fingers like this.” He slips his hand into the gaps of yours, intertwining them.
Then finally, he saw the smile he’d been yearning for rising on your lush lips. The ends of your eyes crinkle as it make its way to your irises as well. Your grip mirrors his as you nestle your face closer to his.
“You won’t get tired of this stoic face?” You taunt.
“Will you get tired of mine?” He counters.
Your shoulders quiver with stifled giggles.
“No, no I won’t,” you promise him.
“Then I won’t,” he promises back.
His larger hand brings yours closer to himself, all the while your attentive eyes watch failing to keep the curl of your lips under control.
“Any thoughts on the Membrane Multiverse Theory? How will your astute mind surmise the possibility of us laying like this somewhere else in the stars?” Honeyed-voice mimicking awe as your face inches closer.
“I believe I’ve shared enough, I’d much rather hear what your brilliant postulate is.” His tone casted with mirth, but the bite missing from teal eyes.
Letting a soft hum, your mind rifling through all the paragraphs and journals your hands had ever thumbed through.
The soft rhythm of his breaths kept time. Stringing the words together on your tongue, you hope this monologue of yours will provide some amusement for him.
“If universes are randomly put into 2 boxes of ‘yes’ and ‘no’, then on average the number of universes in each box would be the same. For every universe I’m not with you, there’ll be equally as many where I am with you.”
A coin toss, perhaps it was all just a coin toss after all. Whether or not the Akasha paired a stoic face with another stoic face, for the gaps of your fingers to fit his so perfectly.
It could have all been a coin toss, for one half to stumble upon the other half cruelly parted from them by the hands of unseen gods.
“Something akin to a bijection existing between both sets of universes?” He cross-examines.
“Maybe… If we were to assign one type ‘yes’ to a positive integer, and the other type ‘no’ to a negative integer, then perhaps we can construct a bijection from the positive and negative integers.” Your brow furrows in contemplation.
“If we submit this theory do you think the Akademiya would publish it?”
“Not likely, bijections are usually made between sets of elements like numbers, not sure if bijections can be applied to something like whole universes. I’m just hypothesising nonsense,” you sigh.
“But they did publish the nonsense known as The Lifespan of Love,” he interjects.
“Hm, then maybe there’s a non-zero chance they’ll publish our nonsense too.” You stifle a scoff.
“Hm,” Alhaitham hums in amused agreement.
His free hand pulls the covers further up over your frame then smoothing out the wrinkles. Observing the growing delays between your slowing blinks.
“Only you and I would turn pillow talk into an academic deliberation.” You couldn’t hold back the giggle any longer.
He sighs in agreement, nestling his head closer to yours on the plush pillows, teal gaze never once leaving yours.
“It’ll make any romantic keel over and die from how dry it is, wouldn’t it, Haitham?”
“I say let them.”
Scoffing and shaking your head at his crude declaration as a yawn slips past your lips, a conclusion to this nonsensical academic deliberation.
With one hand still intertwined in the tender grasp of another you pull Alhaitham closer. So that the spaces of your body could lay against the spaces of his.
The warmth of his skin mingling with the warmth of yours, pressed against one another. You drawing mindless shapes into his back, his hand tracing senseless ruins into yours.
Perhaps, an illogical attempt to echt memories into the stardust in your bodies.
So he and you could imprint the memory of each other into the very fibers of your beings. Then maybe someday when these atoms return to these exact molecular structures, they’ll remember this too.
The law of conservation of mass, the probabilities upon probabilities, and bijections used in an inconsequential pseudo-academic ramblings to no one but an audience of silent stars.
Alhaitham’s certain no academic publisher would spare a glance at them.
But this nonsensical instance in the continuum of time, feeling the rhythm of your heart on the other side of his chest next to his own, is his most precious epiphany.
Fin~
©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS.
#vivalabunbunfics#alhaitham smut#genshin smut#alhaitham x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#alhaitham fanfic#genshin impact x you#alhaitham x y/n#alhaitham fluff#alhaitham x you#alhaitham x female reader#genshin x reader smut#alhaitham x reader smut#alhaitham x yn#alhaitham x you smut#genshin fluff#genshin x reader fluff#genshin soulmates au
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"'haitham, oh my god, you would not believe ..." your words slowly trailed off when you saw alhaitham lounging on the couch with a gray cat curled up on his lap while he read a book.
"welcome home," alhaitham looked up from his book and gave you a small smile. "what were you saying?"
"cat," you said dumbly, frozen in place, unsure if the adorable scene before you was truly real.
he couldn't help but chuckle at you, petting the cat as it stretched out on his lap. "it is a cat, darling, a very docile one."
the cat in question looked up at you curiously and jumped off alhaitham's lap to sniff your legs, and seeming to have already approved of you, it soon lay on the floor and rolled on its back to show you its belly.
"aren't you such a good kitty, what a sweetheart." cooing, you crouched down to rub its furry belly, making the feline purr in content. "how'd this little cutie end up with you?" you asked, looking up at your boyfriend as you continued to pet the cat.
"i'm not sure i follow."
"i mean, i'm pretty sure you didn't just go to the adoption center and get a cat on a whim without asking me first." a smile forming on your lips as the cat started to lick your finger.
setting his book down, alhaitham leaned back into the couch as he watched you play with the cat. "i chose to take my lunch break at puspa cafe where this cat frequents to beg for scraps. i happen to have some left over food and gave it to the little one, and soon enough it was following me all the way to the office and, later, it followed me back here."
your body shook as you burst out in laughter at the image of alhaitham walking around the city with a cat just trailing behind him.
"it seems," you gasped in between fits of laughter. "that the acting grand sage was adopted by a cat."
"the cat is named hadia."
"and you already gave her a name ... you sure you're up to taking care of this little furry baby, haithie?"
"i'm not opposed to having a pet with you." alhaitham admitted, voice soft and gentle. "that is if you're open to raising hadia with me."
you felt your heart skip a beat or two. "o-of course, haithie, i'd love to raise her with you ... but what about kaveh? he could be allergic to cats for all we know."
"ah, kaveh's quite fond of animals and has no problem with hadia staying with us." as if already knowing that she was the topic of the conversation, hadia stands up and jumps onto alhaitham's lap once more.
he smiled as he began to give her some chin scratches. "besides, hadia already hissed at kaveh the moment he attempted to pet her."
soon, you and alhaitham were cuddled up on the couch talking about what items a cat would need at home as hadia, the new member of your little family, happily makes biscuits on the couch's armrest.
note: the cat i'm talking about is the cat that hangs out at the balcony of puspa cafe! + and as always, this isn't proof read <33
#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x reader genshin impact#alhaitham x reader fluff#alhaitham genshin#alhaitham#genshin x reader#genshin impact#genshin fanfic#genshin headcanons#alhaitham x you#alhaitham x yn#alhaitham x reader genshin impact full#alhaitham x reader fanfiction#alhaitham x gender neutral reader
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modern!au
"you know, after i watched paddington, i'm fully convinced animals can talk. you know⎯like in toy story. but they're hiding it from us," you rambled, tapping your finger on your chin like you were in deep thought.
alhaitham flipped over on his stomach, shoving his face into his pillow, "please, go to sleep." his voice is muffled as he pleads, which prompts you to go on.
"and another thing," you continue, "does a straw have two holes? or just one? but there has to be two, right? since there are two holes in a straw."
alhaitham turns around, laying on his side as he listens to you, "you do realize you just answered your own question, right?" he mocks you.
you roll your eyes in return, threading your hands through his hair and ruffling it as revenge. you pretend not to hear him sigh out of content, "yeah. but like⎯if it has two holes, why do we only drink out of one?"
this time, alhaitham does not sigh. he groans, "it's getting too late for these kinds of questions."
you raise your eyebrows, a grin slowly appearing on your face, "oh? so i've finally frustrated the curiosity out of you,'" your sentence turned into laughter at the end.
"you have not," alhaitham countered.
"i think i have," you brush your thumb over alhaitham's eyebrow. he held your hand over his eyebrow and rubbed his thumb over it. he takes your silence as a sign that you are succumbing to exhaustion and you are finally about to fall asleep. but he was wrong.
"i just have one more question," you blurted out.
"only one?" he looked up at you with sleepy eyes. the sight made you want to giggle. alhaitham looks vulnerable. he looks adorable, you think.
"only one," you reaffirm, and rub your thumb across his eyebrow once more, "do you think we're together in every universe?"
the question caught him off guard. you never asked questions like these. most of the time, your questions range from shower thoughts to absurdities. but something seemed more intimate about this one.
alhaitham does not know if you two would be together in every universe. the universe is vast and unpredictable. there are endless possibilities and endless outcomes. it would be impossible for you two to be together in every universe.
that being said, he hopes that you two are together in most of them. alhaitham⎯though he holds disdain at your questions⎯could not imagine a life without them. he simply could not think of a world where he doesn't listen to the sound of your voice every night. he could not visualize a world where he wouldn't be a recipient of your love and your warmth.
to envision a world without you in it is like envisioning a world without it's sun. the world would be shrouded in darkness, without a single bit of light. there would be no warmth, and everything would have froze to death and died.
he looks at you while he thinks about his answer. if he had to wake up every day, and your face wasn't the first thing he saw, alhaitham knew he'd be miserable. he spends at least ten minutes of his morning admiring you. without you, what would he do?
there would be no one to brush his teeth with. there would be no one to eat dinner with. there would be no one to talk to in the middle of the night. life truly seems empty there. he pities all the other alhaithams in the vast universe that have to live without you. it must be horrific, living like that.
so, he makes sure to make this universe count.
"c'mere," he pulls you down to lay with him. you're on your side now as alhaitham pulls you closer, "i'll tell you my answer."
your eyes perk up, having been anticipating his answer the past few minutes. would he disagree or agree? does he think you two would last over different dimensions?
"really? because i think that we'll⎯" alhaitham cuts you off by placing his hand on your jawline and pressing his lips onto yours. it's slow, soft, and quite sensual. his other hand travels down to your hip, slowly rubbing circles on the bone as he continues to kiss you. you don't seem to mind or pull away, as you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back.
your legs are intertwined with alhaitham's as you pull away. suddenly, you feel a lot tired than you did a few minutes ago. was this alhaitham's plan all along? did he just try to kiss you into exhaustion? whatever just happened, it would not work. you will get your answer.
you lean on his chest for one minute, and then you fall asleep.
alhaitham didn't intend for that to happen. it was just a small bonus. what he really wanted to do, was to appreciate what he had in front of him. to not take you for granted. he considers how lucky he is: he is here, in bed with you, and he gets to listen to you ramble. he is privileged enough to hear the sound of your voice, your laughter, your thoughts. he just wanted to show that off.
but now, you're entangled in his limbs, dozing off peacefully as you relax into his chest. you'll harass him more about his answer later, but for now, he only mumbles it to you.
"i hope we are together in every universe."
#when in writer's block... write alhaitham#he might be ooc idk n idc#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x you#alhaitham x yn#genshin x reader#i had no idea where the fuck this was going#i just wrote this bc i wanted to write something so it is not that good#i am also half asleep as i am writing this#cowboyheyxu.archive
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playing strip tcg with alhaitham!
gender neutral reader.
warnings: stripping, teasing, slight humiliation, sortaaaa dubcon..? he whips it out.
author’s note: i need to suck his dick or else i’ll die.
“i don’t see the point in this.”
alhaitham’s voice was strained as his cheeks only got redder.
“that’s fine. all’s i know is that i’m quite enjoying myself~.” you cooed, shuffling through your deck to find the perfect cards to demolish alhaitham.
~
not many things shocked the scribe. if he ever was thrown off by something, he masked it extremely well.
however, when you happily bounded up to him earlier that evening with a big smile and glimmer of mischief in your eye, alhaitham preemptively began bracing himself for another one of your outlandish ideas or thoughts.
playing “strip tcg” was certainly not the words alhaitham expected to hear from you. your words toppled from your mouth and hung in the air, alhaitham analysing them over and over in his mind to try and discern just what had gotten into you.
“… what?”
his response had been full of confusion, both his face and voice conveying that fact clearly. his pupils were slightly blown and his voice shook as he spoke.
you drank it all in with a proud smirk, knowing that it was probably more likely to see kaveh pay off his debt than to see alhaitham flustered.
“shall i repeat myself?” you said innocently. “i asked if you wanted to play s-“
“i heard you the first time.” alhaitham cut you off with a slow shake of his head, thankful for the headphones concealing his ears, otherwise you would’ve teased him silly for the pink hues that adorned them.
“well? are you interested?” you asked sweetly, not even bothering to hide the lilt in your voice.
alhaitham thought for a moment, weighing up his factors and deciding on his choice. you were most likely trying to rile him up for your own pleasure, not at all interested in the game itself. very well. he would play into that without hesitation, beat you and proceed to tease your naked form until you begged for him.
a smirk tugged the corners of his lips up as his eyes shone with smugness. “i accept.”
~
and here he was, the only garment left on his flushed body was his underwear, a noticeable wet patch staining them from his precum.
whenever alhaitham had been dragged from the comfort of his quiet house for nights out at the noisy tavern with cyno, tighnari and kaveh, he had grown bored of their insistence to play cards. he simply found it a waste of his time and quite monotonous, never really paying attention to the game or learning any optimal strategies.
oh, how he regret that now.
“oh, it looks like another one of your characters is down. ugh, what a shame~” you flung his card away with a devious smile.
throughout the course of the game, you had slipped up a few times too, leaving you without your shirt. still, that was nothing compared to alhaitham, whom only had one little garment left… well, he used to anyways.
you made a mental note to thank cyno for the fantastic cards he lent you. of course, you didn’t inform him of your true intentions for tonight, but he was nonetheless happy to assist you.
and it paid off, as alhaitham was forced to remove his underwear. but before you could open your mouth, he was on top of you, pinning you against the chair and staring deeply into your eyes.
“you really think i would sit there, listening to you mock me?” he whispered into your ear, his voice husky and teasing at the same time.
“wha- cheater! you’re a cheater!” you cried, but alhaitham pressed his hand against your mouth, firmly clamping it shut. you glared up at him, hands clenched at your sides.
“i’ve heard enough of you tonight.” alhaitham removed his hand and pushed down on your tongue with his thumb, forcing your mouth open. he then took ahold of his hardening member and pressed it against your lips, sliding slowly into your mouth.
“you need something to shut you up.” he grinned, beginning to rock his hips and take in your moans and whimpers. oh, you should’ve known better…
#✩°｡⋆⸜ ✮ genshin#⋆｡‧₊°♱༺𓆩❦︎𓆪༻♱༉‧₊˚. thirsts#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x gn reader#alhaitham x male reader#alhaitham x female reader#alhaitham smut#alhaitham x gn reader smut#alhaitham x male reader smut#alhaitham x female reader smut#alhaitham x yn#alhaitham x you#alhaitham genshin impact#genshin impact x reader smut
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When it Rains...
Synopsis: There was scarcely anything that scared Al Haitham... and losing (Y/N) might be one of them...
Word Count: 3.5k+
Tags: alhaitham x f! reader, angst, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, Student Al Haitham! x Student Raeder, sfw, burn out, verbal bullying, false accusations, stressful academic life, Akademiya setting,
A/N: This is my first post so please don't go hard on me..
The warm rays of the setting sun were splayed across the evening sky, casting an ethereal glow over the surroundings, a soft fading luminance evident in the environment. The winds remained soft as they passed through the Avidya forest and encircling the once still Divine Tree, tickling through their leaves in the process as they made their way through the open windows of the Akademiya. A certain calmness prevalent in the environment ... but not resonating with the state her mind chose to remain in...
Her footsteps echoed through the halls of the Akademiya, rushing past the cluster of few students who chose to remain late as she made her way to the House of Daena, struggling as she stumbled with the number of scrolls, files and a couple of hardbound books clutched against her chest, cradling in her fragile arms. Her eyes could see Iris in conversation with her sister and the moment she chose to pass by them - "Y/N!".... People didn't like to leave her alone, do they...
"What do you need Iris?" Her voice snapped: on the verge of breakdown as she struggled to remain civil for she didn't want to project her anger onto someone who wasn't even responsible for it. "Oh... It seems you're busy..."- disappointment laced her tone- "But it's alright! We can always talk tomorrow right" and there was her kind smile. And for the first time in her life (Y/N) felt grateful to all the Archons that she had befriended Iris. Her lips tried to imitate hers as she returned the expression albeit forcibly before scurrying past her. Tomorrow... As if she would even be able to see tomorrow...
(E/C) eyes watered a little as the doors of the greatest library in all of Teyvat came into her view, her breathing turning heavy - rushed even - as her steps picked up their pace. She slowly entered through the giant wooden doors, the quietness in the library which once seemed inviting now sending shivers down her spine. Her eyes scanned through the aisles before landing on her Professor, seated in one of the reserved tables for the teachers and other professionals. She sighed as she readjusted her books only for them to go tumbling down her arms as they broke the silence with a loud thud, attracting the attention of all the patrons inside and a few sneers and cold looks. Quickly squatting down, (Y/N) hurriedly picked her academic materials up, her files crumpling a little in the process - her completed assignments over which she had lost three days' worth of sleep. A stray tear droplet managed to fall upon the floor but she held her ground lest the dam of her bottled up tears broke through her tough façade.
The frustration was evident in her grip as she brushed off her robes before walking towards the Professor.
"Good evening Sir" she greeted politely standing at a respectable distance from him. He chose to ignore her presence at first, his attention remaining on the scroll he held in his hand while slowly sipping his tea. "Sir..." and his head turned to meet her eyes and a smile laced his features and she could tell it was all a pretense just like the other lecturers and higher ups. "I'm here to submit my thesis." and her file replaced the scroll in his hand.
His eyes scanned through her papers with the same scrutinizing gaze, eyebrows raising every few moments indicating he had found an error amongst her work. And then after with a deceitful smile he placed down the file on the table.
"Tsk tsk... Miss (L/N)" the Professor spoke, his torso twisting a little in his chair as he craned his neck to look at her directly in the eyes. "The ruins of Devantaka have already been studied thoroughly by the scholars here." and he dropped her carefully arranged papers to the floor, "And to think that Ley Lines hold a connection to the ruins.... that seems far-fetched."
"But Sir! The energy binding the ruins-"
"Enough of your hazy thoughts (L/N). I've more pressing matters to deal with~" and he got up from his chair with the forgotten scroll in his hands. "Get the thesis rewritten in a week." - the words she had been hearing for over a month. "And I don't want any blasphemous theories again or I might have to fail you... or might as well kick you out of my lecture" And his footsteps faded as he walked away.
(Y/N) could hear the snickers and sneers coming from the surrounding students who happened to be the audience of the interaction. Tears began to well up in her eyes as a lump formed in her throat. With shivering hands, she picked up her papers, her vision becoming blurry as she got to her feet. Yet she held her calm then, walking out of the library before anyone could spot her wiping her eyes on her sleeves. And yet a certain someone in a secluded corner of the library did notice the turmoil she had carefully concealed behind those (E/C) eyes.
Her thoughts were scattered all over the place, depressing thoughts and turmoiled emotions causing a havoc in her mind as she walked out of the Akademiya and onto the city streets.
The night felt inky and cold, dark clouds overcast over the skies and soon thick droplets of water descended from the skies. The residents hurried past her as they avoided the showers of rain but she welcomed them with teary eyes... for she needed something to drown her sorrows in. (Y/N) smiled at her own misery, even the Archons pitied her today. The weight of the world too heavy upon her shoulders as she inhaled sharply.
"Her thesis got rejected for the sixth time, did you know?"
"And to think that Iris told us she was the brightest in Vahumana. Ha! Now her true colors are showing!"
"I bet she'll be expelled this time for sure."
And (Y/N) quickly wiped her tears as she rushed through the rainy streets - her attempts to shield her files and books failing as she found a secluded corner in the streets, an overhanging tree giving her a little shade as she slowly sank down on her knees. She really deserved it all, didn't she? The warnings of her mother must be true...
"Why the Akademiya? You can simply help out your brother with business." And she had held her head high when she said she thrived off knowledge and wished to cultivate more of it. Her father had been her only support but when he too passed away due to Eleazor, the ridicules of her mother and brother became overbearing. In a haste to prove herself she had left home to rent a small apartment close by to the Akademiya. The loneliness was overbearing but she held on, hoping the future would be bright and yet here she was... Her dreams getting crushed under the heavy expectations and ridicules of the world around her and she wondered how long it would be this way...
His breathing became ragged as he rushed out of the Akademiya, his usual calm demeanor fading the moment he saw her leave the House of Daena. "Al Haitham!" and those words fell on deaf ears as Kaveh stared questioningly at him hurrying past the hallways. 'Strange' thought the blonde for he had never seen Al Haitham in such a rush. "It's her isn't it?" Tighnari added as Cyno hummed in approval - the trio staring at the ash-haired male fade away from their vision.
"I'm so annoyed you know. Why can't he just tell her?!" Kaveh said out loud, eyes narrowing as his fingers intertwined behind his head as he walked, Cyno and Tighnari following his pace. "It won't be Al Haitham if he just told her"And they couldn't agree more with Cyno.
And then after what felt like hours of searching - rain be damned - he found her huddled in a corner of the deserted street. He could see the way her eyes seemed lifeless. Her back resting against the overhanging tree's trunk as the books held loosely in her hands got drenched in the rain. (H/C) tresses stuck to her back as she stared lifelessly at the skies. His heart crumpled at the sight of her looking so... broken and empty...
Cautiously Al Haitham approached her, his steps resonating with those of a cat as he stood in front of her and yet she seemed so devoid of emotions, not even flinching as her eyes locked onto his. "Here to mock me again?" and his confidence faded as he kneeled to her level, "Archons no!" He tsked before carefully taking her hands in his larger ones. warmth spreading through her nimble fingers albeit the rain never stopped.
Al Haitham was a prodigy, hailed by the lectures and students alike, the 'Gem of Haravatat'. (Y/N) had first stumbled upon him at the library, turquoise eyes reading through the pages as he sat unbothered at a secluded table in the corner. "D'you mind if I join?" she had asked him and he had grunted in response without even sparing a glance at whoever had interrupted his peaceful afternoon. After an hour and a half when the intruder still remained seated, his patience started running thin. The ruffling of sheets and the scribbles of her quill becoming somewhat hard to ignore as his eyes finally lifted to take in her appearance and Archons, mesmerizing was an understatement.
There wasn't something necessarily captivating about her appearance but he felt drawn to her. A moth to a flame but only this moth... refused to be cauterized. He started noticing her everywhere... The Puspa Cafe where she regularly indulged in Padisarah pudding as she laughed with Iris and her younger sister, the secluded corridors of the Akademiya where she sneaked to sleep whenever she could find time. And he also knew for a fact that she didn't drink for she despised the smell of liquor.
"I can't Iris..." (Y/N) pleaded with her friend Iris at the tavern. "But it'll be so much fun!" added Janaki, another one of her classmates "And besides, Kunikuzushi is here too... I heard he's quite interested in you" and Al Haitham didn't know why his blood boiled at the mention of another man's name. "But you know I hate the smell of alcohol! Its... nauseating, please!"
"Leave her alone would you?" his voice had boomed startling his group of friends which included Kaveh, Tighnari and Cyno. And with a thankful look she had scurried away and out of the tavern, Al Haitham following after her. And that was when he had really talked with (Y/N).
Their meetings weren't necessarily frequent - the Akademiya kept them busy but subtle glances cast each other's way and knowing looks in the House of Daena were enough for the two. An year passed and they became close friends before everything fell apart.
"Did you hear? (Y/N) was suspended for plagiarism." And Al Haitham's ears perked up at the mention of her name.
"Really?"
"Yes! And to think that she would do that to Farahnaz! How evil! " And those words were the last he heard before he walked out of the library to confront (Y/N) only to find her in conversation with the sage of Vahumana himself. Tears pricked at her eyes as she pleaded with him to hear her cause before she was taken away by one of the matras as her screams echoed off the walls. He heard the Sage in conversation with the Mahamatra and his ears couldn't beleive what they heard. Farahnaz had carefully translated the ruin engravings and their energy sources found in the Devantaka. She had trusted (Y/N) to keep her findings safe for she had been suddenly taken ill only to find out that (Y/N) had tried to publish her work under her own name.
He felt betrayed and... yet he couldn't bring himself to walk away and followed after her only to find her sobbing profusely in an empty classroom.
"(Y/N)?" he had questioned cautiously, "You okay?" and she didn't reply. Therefore, he decided to enter inside only to meet a hysterically crying (Y/N) burying her face in his chest. He stayed unmoved, not being able to hold her in his arms as his voice echoed -
"Why did you do that?" the words had slipped out on their own as he met her wide-eyed teary gaze as she slowly lifted her head up to meet his eyes.
"A-Al Haitham, N-No... I...you didn't-" and that was all he ever heard before she pushed him away, backing away from him and out of his reach as she mouthed the last words she ever spoke to him then after as she left him alone in the empty classroom...
"You're all the same..."
Weeks later after fighting through it all on her own, it was discovered that (Y/N) was not the one at fault. Farahnaz had faked her illness before she had bribed a matra to publish those findings under (Y/N)'s name. And turns out that her findings weren't really authentic for after further investigation it was discovered that Farahnaz had indeed carried out Mosaic plagiarism of (Y/N)'s source materials and the scrolls she had kept under investigation. Her last words before expulsion being how she had really hated (Y/N) for outsmarting her and wished to any Archon who would hear her to bestow all the hardships in her life.
"I hope you rot" Farahnaz had spat as she was dragged away on the orders of the General Mahamatra along with the matra who had helped her out.
"I knew she was innocent" Cyno had reminded him yet again that day and he couldn't help but feel regret. How could he not for he had always valued logic and rationality above it all and yet he was... blindsided by mere rumors without diving in deep to uncover the truth. Even the minds of wisest men can get plagued by false rumors at times. After all no one can truly escape the frivolous human nature. Kaveh had cast him a disgusted look, still did as he asked him if he would ever apologize.
Now Al Haitham had tried to make amends with you, a failed attempt to mend the broken thread of friendship he had once held so close to his heart.
"Don't bother 'Haitham... I can't trust you yet again..." and there was no spite in your words, just emptiness and sorrow lacing them and it shattered his peace of mind to see you like this. "I can't face you anymore... not when you're the person I trusted the most..." and she had turned her back to him before mouthing ever so softly "Not when you're the person I loved the most..." and she walked away and out of the House of Daena... not sparing him the look over her shoulders she always did, the last of her words whispered for only his ears to hear "Not when... you're the person who hurt me the most" and his eyes widened with his bleeding heart. She walked out of his sight, disappearing in the crowd of knowledge that was the Akademiya... and he felt (Y/N) might just have crushed him under those delicate steps.
Rationality and logic had provided him the answers to all the questions all this while... And yet his mind refused to accept the fact that he had been the one who had blinded by mere talks of the streets. But then again, the most rational of men at times have been a prey to humane frivolity and reckless thoughts.
And from then onwards Al Haitham swore to protect (Y/N) from all the evils of the world... even if it meant he had to work in the shadows... even when it meant staying away from her for he didn't want to break her heart anymore. However, seeing her in this frenzied state of weighing depression and anxiety broke his heart as if … he had failed to protect her from the demons yet again...
After the upliftment of (Y/N)'s suspension and the restoration of her title as an honorary student of the Akademiya, the rumors had still refused to subside. For three long months are enough for the development and brewing of all sorts of research and modifications to the original case.
"Look it's (Y/N). She does look smug for someone who was in suspension" a random Kshahrewar junior sneered as his peers laughed along with him.
Her footsteps increased their pace as she clutched her books further to her chest, walking to her morning class in a frenzied state. Little did she know, she would be greeted by her peers much harshly.
"Oh look who it is! (Y/N)(L/N)! Here to steal someone else's report?" Nima taunted, another friend of Farahnaz who refused to believe she was innocent.
"Oh please Nima, will you shut up?" said Iris as she glared at the brunette with a malicious look in her eyes. But the girl didn't seem to listen."Get lost before I cut off that tongue. That'll shut you up, yeah?" and the class felt silent when Kunikuzushi spoke up, his voice sending chills down Nima's spine, albeit the whispering never stopped.
"Be careful Kuni. You might be her next victim!"
"You sick little-" but (Y/N) was quick to grab Iris's arm before the venom spewed out. 'It's not worth it' she had said as she guided them to an empty table.
(Y/N) and Iris sat side by side awaiting their professor and she found solace in her only friend. Iris had helped her out with most of the reports and case studies in order to gather evidences against Farahnaz and she had been surprised when Kuni had volunteered to do so too. She was grateful to both of them in so many ways but the weight of the world around her seemed too heavy and Al Haitham seemed too far away... having had left a scar on her chest where her heart belonged, broken yet beating...
She would often sneak glances of him in the House of Daena or in the streets of Sumeru, quick to look away before his turquoise could meet her (E/C). Too broken to reach out... too hurt to let go... But the little things she missed out were filled in by his presence. He still wondered how she failed to notice that he was always around her... looking out for her but never directly and he wondered if she chose to ignore her presence. Nonetheless he was thankful for she would have been more hurt if he still reached out... or so was what the ever rational Al Haitham thought.
He had been observing her conversations with the Professor for a fair few days now. How he had always disregarded her opinions made his blood boil yet he was helpless right then for he couldn't really directly step in when the higher officials and scholars were involved.
"It all seems very vague you know... Not even close to the point" he had laughed as he thrusted the folder in her arms.
"But Sir, here me out! The recent develop-"
"Redone and submitted on my desk. Coming Monday" and again she was left frustrated and with tears.
She longed for someone to help her out and her heart would always call out for a certain ashen-haired male yet her mind would remind her how effortlessly he had broken her. She couldn't ask Iris for she was too busy with her own thesis and Kuni had gone to explore the Avidya Forests for a few days. She felt alone and lifeless and all she wanted was to break down until she heard someone say -
"It'll be okay (Y/N)..." his voice barely above a whisper as he pulled her close to him. And she wailed in his arms, too weak and hurt to push him away as she gave into the instincts of her heart.
"I'll make it all better, I promise" he kept whispered soothing words in her ears as his arms wrapped around hers as if attempting to shield her from all the pain, worries, turmoil and miseries the world had been putting her through. And he regretted that he had been the one who had added to them the most.
"I'm sorry..." he whispered when he felt her breathing calming down, the shiver in her shoulders slowing as she attempted to speak...
"D-Don't leave m-me...p-please" choked words whispered through trembling lips and he embraced her even tighter. Whispers of 'I'm sorry' and 'Never leave you again' echoing in the showers of droplets as they remained in each other's embrace for quite a while...
"Let's get you home (Y/N)" he said but his words fell upon deaf ears. On further coaxing he realized that she had fallen asleep in his embrace, unbothered by the rain as exhaustion took over her body. His heart hurt as he noticed the dark circles and chapped lips. Therefore, he took it upon himself to keep her safe and comforted.
His warm coat was shed off his shoulder, coming around her small frame to wrap her up in his warmth. "Hai...tham... don't go" she whispered in her sleep and his heart skipped a beat yet again.
"Never again (Y/N)" he promised, an oath he was committed to never break until his last breath and he slowly placed a fleeting kiss upon her forehead.
Lifting her up in his arms he made his way to his own home, his coat having had been wrapped around her sleeping form in an attempt to provide warmth as he walked down the city streets, ignoring the whispers when he neared his home for Al Haitham despised idle chatters with a sheer passion after a certain incident almost wrecked his once peaceful world.
However, with (Y/N) in his arms and his embrace he felt he could be at peace again.
Taglist: @teapartyspilled
#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x you#alhaitham fanfic#alhaitham fluff#alhaitham angst#genshin angst#genshin x reader#genshin x you#alhaitham x yn#alhaitham comfort#genshin scenarios#genshin imagines#al haitham#yae publishing house#ryutarites
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book lover
summary ⎯ you rant about your book to alhaitham. he takes the time to admire you during your tangents.
tags ⎯ fluff. idk its just really cute. soft alhaitham idk what to tell you. you and alhaitham are two little book nerds that read physical books together and rant abt them. u2 are giving old happily married couple tbh.
tana's words ⎯ idk mane im in love. but BLADE trailer came out today so idk..... feeling a little bit i'm abt to commit an infidelity
you looked very conflicted as your eyes scanned the words of the book you were currently reading. to any other person, you looked rather focused. your face was pensive and your eyes were fixated on the novel you were reading.
but to alhaitham (who thinks and hopes he's the one that knows you the most), he realizes you're disconcerted by the novel you're reading. it's the way you're slightly pouting (almost frowning) your lips as you continue reading, like you're dissatisfied. your eyes aren't focused, but instead they were crinkled with confusion. what you're actually focused on is how much more ludicrous this book could get.
alhaitham picks his book back up again and continues his book, "murder on the orient express," by margaret atwood. something you recommended to him. alhaitham started it right after he finished the book he was reading previously, forgetting about the other books on his shelf.
alhaitham was nearly halfway into the novel when he turned his head to check on you again. this time, there was no doubt you looked pained. your eyes were narrowed with incredulity as you read the rest of the passage. you were biting your lip and your grip on the book was tight. you wanted to say something, alhaitham figured out.
so alhaitham puts down his book on the nightstand and stretches. he wraps his hands around your waist and moves closer to you, his head now resting on your shoulder. he reads a few passages here and there. and the way you slow down as you read does not elude him: he knows you're just waiting for him to finish his passage.
you two stay like this for a while. alhaitham's hands are wrapped around your body as his head lays comfortably on your shoulder. he presses a few kisses to your neck here and there, never failing to make you heat up. he's pulled you closer into him by now; you're on the verge of sitting on his lap in the bed. but even during this relaxing moment, you couldn't help but feel stress. it's probably because of this god-awful book you're reading.
you let out a loud sigh, slamming your book shut and not even bothering to bookmark it (you're a dog-earer; alhaitham thinks you're despicable for it). you lay it down on your nightstand before you take the time to melt into alhaitham's touch. once you've put your book down, you take a deep breath, and alhaitham swears he feels life return back into you.
alhaitham presses a quick kiss to your jaw, "are you okay?"
you faintly smile at him, "fine." and alhaitham knows what will come next. alhaitham studies you; he tries to dissect your every word and expression; and most of all, he always wants to find out more about you, despite having being with you for a long time already.
your smile disperses, now followed by a scowl, "i lied. i'm not fine," you rubbed your eyes with your hands as alhaitham listened to you, "can your brain hurt after reading something so terrible? my brain feels like it aged fifty years and i'm not even finished with this god-awful book. nothing in here makes sense, the plot is rudimentary at most, and the characters are making me want to rip my hair out," you ranted, your hands going to massage your temples because of how angry you were getting.
"and it's not just that too," you continued. alhaitham's eyes were on you; listening to every word, watching your eyes, and your lips. he wanted to kiss you into peace, but he also loved hearing your tirades. the way your voice became so passionate and wild made him feel things that he thought he wouldn't have felt before.
"the plot barely makes any sense. like, you're telling me grown people act like this? these people are two decades older than us, haitham," he feels himself melt at the sound of his name, nodding along to your tangent so you know he's listening, "but they act like teenagers! like... don't you have jobs? lives?" you pick up the covers that enshroud your body and proceed to let out the loudest groan into them.
you pulled down the covers, letting out a deep sigh. "sorry, i had to get that out," you turned to look at alhaitham, only to see him staring right back at you.
"i guess you're not recommending that one," alhaitham joked, removing his hands from your waist and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, pressing you against him. he presses a kiss to your temple as he feels you breath slowly.
"definitely not," you shook your head, now leaning onto alhaitham's shoulder, "the thing was, my friend recommended that to me. so, i don't know if they hate me or not, because there's no way they'd genuinely think this book was good."
alhaitham hummed, "maybe they were trying to gauge your reaction," alhaitham's hand slipped under your shirt and started tracing shapes on your bare collarbone, "like you did to me that one time," alhaitham adds, tone lifting with mock-exasperation.
you laugh, and alhaitham thinks the sound is absolutely heavenly. sometimes, especially during long nights in the akademiya, he dreams of your laughter and your smile. the sound is so melodic that any other laugh became incomparable and unrivaled by yours.
"okay, that was pretty funny though," you poked his cheek, grinning, "i almost spit out my drink when you got to that one sex scene. i thought you'd never take any recommendations from me ever again," you joyfully reminisced, letting yourself sink into alhaitham's warmth.
"'how fast you go. you arrive at a conclusion much sooner than i would permit myself to do,'” alhaitham quotes. his hands travel farther down your shirt as he allows himself to kiss your neck.
you ignore his actions, turning to him suddenly, "you're reading murder on orient express?" your eyes widen.
alhaitham's expression remains neutral, still kissing your body, "of course. i read everything you recommend me." he didn't expect you to be so shocked. he regards your opinion with high value.
your eyes still remain wide, not moving away from his face as alhaitham mindlessly rubs his hands up and down your torso, "even the bad ones?"
alhaitham chuckles, "even the bad ones. but, if it makes you feel better, you haven't recommended me any terrible books yet. at least, not as terrible as the one you're reading currently."
you sigh, looking at the disgraced book on the nightstand, "yeah... i don't think books can get worse than that one," you turn back to run your hand through alhaitham's hair, sorting out a few strands here and there. alhaitham quietly hums as you do so, sounding pleasantly satisfied.
"why are you reading murder on the orient express so soon? thought you had that other book to read about," you quietly asked.
"because i love you. and i want to experience what you experienced," alhaitham says it like it's the easiest thing in the world. i love you. i want to experience things with you. it makes your heart flutter infinitely through the stars. you've read countless romance novels through your years, yet no author would be able to word love as well as alhaitham did.
you smile wide, and alhaitham thinks if he was a dying man, seeing your smile would allow him to survive for decades. too flustered to say anything, you tuck yourself into the nape of his neck, hiding from his prying eyes.
you know alhaitham. you are aware that he knows you just as well as you know him. you know that, with one glance, alhaitham is probably able to determine every single thought you're thinking. with one word from your mouth, alhaitham understands you immediately, no need to elaborate. it's long lasting, the mutual understanding the both of you have.
yeah, alhaitham can read you like a book. he takes great satisfaction in doing so, as well.
you grab his chin and tilt his head down to meet yours, giving him a chaste kiss on his lips. you grin once again (a sight alhaitham will never get sick of) and turn off the lamp next to your bed. you whisper, "good night," in his ear and cover yourself with the sheets as you drift off into sleep, content with this night despite the horrible book.
alhaitham softly smiles, even chuckles a little bit about how fast you went to bed. he traces your jawline with his thumb before turning off his light and pulling you closer into him.
alhaitham usually does not reread books. but, if you were a book, he'd think he would reread you over and over again, because every time he finds something new to love about you, there is always more. you reel him in more than any hook. you interest him more than any other topic. you grab his attention more than any other story.
maybe he's over exaggerating. but that's no big deal for now. for now, alhaitham will just enjoy you and your presence. and he will reread you the next time he has a chance.
umm idk if that ending made sense but it's like 4am rn and idrc. alhaitham is prob ooc in this but whateva bc i like my men to be nice bc I CAN CHANGE THEM!! anyway srry if this don't make sense its 4am rn
#tana writes (∗´ ᨔ `∗)#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x you#alhaitham#al haitham x reader#al haitham x you#alhaitham x yn#idk yall i like books and i like him#this is the third post i've made abt him holy fuck#im insane abt him sry
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Chapter Twenty-Nine: Our Happy Ending
Alhaitham has the looks and the smarts. He will also be the stand-in CEO for his grandfather's company for a year.
But, he's been mysteriously cursed to turn into a cat every night since his eighteenth birthday… until he meets you, an employee at his grandfather's company, who rescues him as a cat and changes him back with one kiss.
Alhaitham/You
Notes:
Cross-posted on AO3
Female reader
Chapter index at the end of chapter one
Chapter notes: Brief smut scene in this chapter
You can’t stop thinking about that kiss.
It’s been a few weeks since Zhongli’s wedding. You and Alhaitham have been casually texting, but neither of you brings up the kiss. It’s as if you’re treading through a grey area. Despite what's happened, your feelings toward Alhaitham haven't changed, but that’s only half the battle.
After Zhongli's wedding, you've been giving this a lot of thought. Throughout all of this, Alhaitham has been on your side. His mother is also taking full responsibility.
But no matter how you look at it, the stigma will always remain.
If you choose to be with Alhaitham, you'll be in a relationship with the son of the woman who left your father to die. That’s a fact that will never change. Can you live with that? You can. You have your reasons, but… What does your mother think about this?
Then, there’s Alhaitham.
Throughout your conversations, he hasn’t pressured or asked you to give him an answer. But you know you can’t leave him hanging for too long.
In addition to all that, today just hasn’t been your day.
You found out that Signora's script got chosen to get the biggest budget of the year. You know you can't win all the time, but it's still not a great feeling. So, even though yours didn't get chosen, you're taking it upon yourself to make changes and submit it again for production. This, of course, is on top of the other responsibilities you're assigned to.
You’re sitting at a desk in the company lounge when you overhear two women sitting at the table in front of yours.
“She was so pretty. They looked like a celebrity couple.”
"Alhaitham is like a celebrity, though." A small laugh. "He should try modelling as a side hustle."
This is something you've been hearing a lot amongst your colleagues. Apparently, Alhaitham has been seen with a “tall, beautiful woman.” It doesn’t take you long to figure out that the woman in question is Layla. While you don’t know the details, you know there’s a business venture happening between the company and hers, which explains why she and Alhaitham have been seen together.
“Hey.” It’s then you notice Childe sitting in front of you. As his mother’s condition has considerably improved, he’s back in Sumeru. “Took you long enough,” he jokes. He takes a peek at your laptop. “Whatcha workin' on?"
"Revisions for my script." You sigh. “Writer's block has never hit so hard,” you say as the women stand up and leave. You close your laptop screen. “It doesn’t help that my team got assigned to other projects. So… I’m pretty much on my own.”
“Well… maybe this will take your mind off things." A small pause. "It's about the curse."
“Did it change?”
Childe nods. “Things have started to improve with my parents, and I noticed that I’m changing a lot later.”
“...I guess our love theory was right."
“You think?" A small pause. "Maybe we’ll find out through you and Alhaitham,” Childe says. Your eyes meet his. “How’re things with him?”
“We’re talking." When you catch a suspicious look in Chlde’s eyes, you say, “Just talking. Nothing else.”
Childe slowly nods. “...Maybe he’s waiting for an answer after everything's over.” He smiles slightly. "Alhaitham's a good guy.” You smile back and nod. Then, he taps your closed laptop. “You said you’re making revisions to your script, right? Why not take inspiration from him?”
Before Childe came along, you have been thinking about how to add an extra… oomph to your story. You feel like something’s missing but you can’t put your finger on it. Childe’s question gets you thinking… Love in the Spotlight had been loosely inspired by your past relationship with Dottore. Who’s to say you can't work that magic again?
Suddenly, it hits you, and you quickly open your laptop. Childe looks from you to your screen as you start typing. Then, he smiles.
“My Boss is My Cat, huh? I like that title.”
You smile back. “You think? I’ll have to rework a lot of it, but… the ideas are already flowing.”
Childe chuckles. “I know it’ll be a hit.”
◆◆◆
It starts as a business meeting but turns a little personal toward the end. Alhaitham and Layla aren’t surprised. They are friends after all.
“By the way… how did the dinner go?” Layla asks.
Ah. Right. His mother had tried to get Layla involved. So, Alhaitham gives her an update but skims the details, only telling her what’s needed to understand the big picture.
“I see… So, you two are still on a break?”
Yes? No? Alhaitham doesn't have a clear answer. There's texting happening, but nothing concrete to show you two are officially together again. Yes, there's the kiss, but that happened because of an emotional high. It shouldn't be trusted... even though it was the best kiss he's ever had.
“We’re talking,” he says.
Layla nods. “Well, I think that's a good sign. I’d usually say why not try to woo her again, but that’d be risky.”
Alhaitham knows you still need space. But, how long can he keep waiting?
“Hey.” Alhaitham looks across the table and sees Layla giving him a small smile. “It’s good you’re thinking about her feelings, but don’t forget to think about yourself.”
Alhaitham’s phone buzzes with a message just as Layla gets a call. She answers hers while he opens the message from Kaveh.
Drinks tonight?
Well, why not?
“I have to run,” Layla says, after getting off her call. “If it’s any reassurance, I know you two will be fine.”
She gives Alhaitham a friendly hug before she leaves. Then, his phone buzzes again.
Should we invite Catnip?
Catnip?
When Alhaitham leaves the restaurant, he gives Kaveh a call.
“‘Sup, Junior?”
“Who are you talking about?”
Kaveh laughs. “Oh, you mean Catnip? I’m talking about Sis, of course. You did say she’s your catnip, didn’t you? I think it’s a cute nickname.” Alhaitham sighs. “...Wait. Have you two not made up yet?”
“There are still things we have to talk about.”
"I think I get it." A small pause. "Is it something like... What's her new stance on your mother? Will she ask you to cut ties with her so you two can be together? Am I right?"
“...It’s not just about my mother. If we date again, I… have no idea what her mother might say.”
“Dude, you’re like the dream son-in-law that every mother wants.” Kaveh sighs. “But, geez. You’re giving this a lot of thought. I get it, though. You’re serious about her.”
“...I always have been.”
Kaveh smiles. “So, let’s get together tonight and take a little breather. You deserve it.”
◆◆◆
Your manager looks at your laptop screen and reads the title.
“My Boss is My Cat. An interesting title.” Then, he looks up at you. “You want to do a rewrite?”
"I know the leadership team has already decided on Signora's script. This is just a personal project I want to send for review and see if I can get it produced."
“You’d be doing a lot of extra work.”
“I understand, but”—you look at your laptop screen—“I really want to see this through.”
Your manager smiles. “Well, who am I to stop you?”
“Really?”
“As long as it doesn’t interfere with your other responsibilities. You get the green light.”
“Thank you!”
Then, you pick up your laptop and hurry out of your manager’s office.
After finishing your work responsibilities for the day, you spend the rest of your time planning and writing this new script which makes you lose track of time.
Before you know it, you're the only one left in the office. You stop typing and stretch just as your phone rings.
“Hey, Mom,” you say.
“Where are you? It’s late!”
You look at the time on your laptop. “Sorry. I got caught up with some things at work.”
“Don’t tell me you’re planning on sleeping over there?” she jokes. “Or… are you going back to your place?”
Despite you and Alhaitham being on friendly terms, you're still staying at your mother's place. You spin your chair around and look out at the beautiful night scenery.
“...Hey, Mom. Can I… ask you something?”
“Of course, honey.”
“...What do you think of me dating Alhaitham?”
A small pause.
"I had a feeling you'd ask eventually," your mother says. "...I want to hear your thoughts. You're asking me this because you want to continue your relationship with him, right?"
“I do.”
You’re a little surprised at how naturally you said it.
“...But, would it be disrespectful to Dad?” you ask quietly. “I’d be dating the son of the woman who really shouldn’t deserve forgiveness.”
“...Under regular circumstances, I would be opposed to it,” your mother says, leaning against the kitchen counter. “I’m not saying this because I’m on his side, but he did do a lot for us. Let me give you an update.”
Then, your mother tells you they've decided to settle this out of court. But that doesn't mean his mother will avoid wrongdoing. She will compensate the full amount and abide by the punishment given to her by law.
“I won’t be able to forgive his mother, but I don't want to harbour any resentment towards her,” your mother finishes. "I am not opposed to you dating him." You feel a weight lift off your shoulders. “It really depends on you.”
“I… guess I’m a little afraid.” Then, you tell her about your nightmares. “I know I shouldn’t care about what other people say. But sometimes… I can’t help but think what they will say about me or Alhaitham if they find out.” You sigh. “It’s silly.”
“It’s not silly at all, honey. As much as we all say we don’t care about other people’s opinions, we all care to some extent. Some more than others.”
You smile. “But, you know, I just realized something.”
“What’s that?”
“You, Lumine, and Aether are the only opinions I should care about.”
Your mother smiles. “...Perhaps it’s fate that brought you and Alhaitham together, so we can finally have closure.”
The conversation takes a lighter turn when you tell your mother about what you've been working on. Of course, she’s super supportive, which gives you a heightened motivation to finish this personal project.
It's past dinnertime when you get off the call with your mother. After turning off the lights, you head towards the elevator when your phone rings. This time, it's from someone unexpected.
“Sis! Are you home?”
“I’m going to be,” you say. “What’s wrong?”
“Erm, well, Haitham had too much to drink, and I thought he would have hangover pills or something… but”—Kaveh sighs—“the guy's empty.”
“...Are you the one who got him addicted to catnip?”
“What! How can you think that it's me?”
A small pause.
“Okay. I gave it to him once and he… liked it. I swear I tried to stop him.”
You sigh. “Is he okay? I’ll pick up something on my way back.”
Kaveh smiles. “Really? You’d do that for someone who's just a friend?”
“I’ll be right over," you deadpan.
Back at Alhaitham’s apartment, Kaveh slips his phone inside his pocket and looks at his friend who’s sitting on the sofa with a small frown.
“This is your chance, Junior. Don’t waste it.”
“Did you really have to lie?”
"Well, she won't rush over if you're all fine and dandy. So, at least try to look like you're half-dead when she gets here." Alhaitham sighs, and Kaveh smiles. "It's time to make your acting debut."
By the time you reach Alhaitham’s apartment, it’s already late evening. As soon as you knock, Kaveh opens the door.
“Hey, Catnip!”
“...What did you just call me?”
Kaveh laughs. “It’s a cute nickname, don’t you think?”
“Sure." You look around. "Where’s Haitham?”
“In his room.”
As soon as you get there, you see Alhaitham as a cat curled up on top of the sheets. Then, you turn to Kaveh.
“...He looks fine.”
“That’s 'cause he’s a cat. He was dying earlier. Trust me.”
You look at the pills and other hangover-related medication in the bag you’re holding. “Well, I don’t think he can take these right now.”
You hear a soft meow. When you turn, you see Alhaitham struggling to get up. It's not until you're at his side that he immediately walks onto your lap.
“Well, he’s all yours! Good luck.”
Before you can say anything else, Kaveh is out the door.
You look down at Alhaitham who’s lying on his back, his belly facing upwards. His face looks as if he’s in pain, and you gently rub his fluffy belly.
“Let me get you some water.”
You’re about to get off the bed when Alhaitham suddenly gets up, stands on his hind legs, and pushes you down. What just happened? Alhaitham is on top of you, his front paws above your breasts as you stare at each other.
Alhaitham meows again, and you’re wondering if he wants you to kiss him. Well, you can, but certainly not in this position. You pick him up, sit upright, and lean against the wall. You smile as you hold him in front of you.
“Looks like someone’s fine.”
Alhaitham looks down but quickly looks back and groans softly as if in pain.
“You should probably take some acting lessons from Ayato.”
Alhaitham gives you a deadpan look which makes you laugh.
“What? Did I say something wrong?”
His ears droop and you gently tap his nose. Then, you bend your legs and put him belly-up on your legs.
“...I talked to my mom about us.”
Alhaitham’s ears slowly move back up. You’re slightly blushing, so his tail sweeps upwards. Can this mean what Alhaitham thinks it means…?
“I want to be with you, Haitham,” you say, and his little kitty heart has never raced so fast. “...But, I won’t be able to forgive what your mother did. No matter what.” You smile slightly. “I’m not going to ask you to pick between us. I know you still care about her, obviously. But after everything that’s happened, I still want to be with you.”
Alhaitham leans forward, his paws landing on your collarbone. Then, he kisses your nose…
Your eyes widen when a hand is suddenly beside your head. Alhaitham is staring at you, his eyes just as wide as reality sinks in. He has you cornered against the wall. What just happened?
But before you can even contemplate, Alhaitham kisses you full on the mouth. You can taste the wine on his lips as your hands go around his neck. He nips your top lip, caressing it before moving to the bottom. The cold chill you feel against your back is in glaring contrast to the hot, demanding heat pulling you closer… and closer…
Your hand is on his chest but soon becomes entangled with Alhaitham’s. He holds your hand tightly, your bodies flush against one another. Your pulse is thundering as one kiss after another communicates more passion and longing than words ever can.
When Alhaitham finally pulls away, his expression is sincere and intense.
“I love you,” he says.
You immediately kiss him again but only for a moment. You gently nip his lips as you pull back.
“I love you, too.”
His expression turns slightly worried. “...But, what does your mother think?”
“She’s okay with us dating.” You smile. “...I already talked to her.” Then, you push him down, your hand running down his torso. “Did you and Kaveh trick me here?"
“...That’s—”
You kiss him, and you feel his hand in your hair, pulling you closer. Your hand travels lower, and you break the kiss just in time to hear a soft moan when you gently stroke his hardening sex.
Then, you lean forward and whisper, “...Someone deserves to be punished.”
It doesn’t take long for your teasing to reduce him to a panting mess who’s dying to touch you as you ride him deep and hard. Your hands are on top of his, pinning them to the bed. Alhaitham shuts his eyes as he relishes in the pleasure only you can give him. When you suddenly stop, he opens his eyes and sees you tug at one of your hardened nipples with a slightly teasing smile.
Alhaitham immediately sits up, your legs naturally going to either side of his waist. Then, he grabs your hips and pins you to the bed with his body. Your legs are dangling on either side of him, your face flushed.
“...It’s my turn.”
His hips slowly rock into you, allowing you to feel every inch of his hardened sex. And, slowly, as he picks up the pace, he grabs your knees and spreads your legs even wider. When he hears that loud, satisfied moan from your lips, he pins your hands to the bed and leans over and kisses you. Coupled with how he’s angling his hips to drive himself deeper into you, you soon shudder violently with unwilling pleasure.
Alhaitham’s muscles become taut as the sensation builds… builds… and builds until he lets out a short but satisfied cry. With just enough strength to prevent himself from falling on top of you, he brushes some of your hair out of your face.
“...I could do that again,” you joke.
Alhaitham leans upright and pulls you up. Your arms go around his neck. “...Who am I to refuse such a request?”
◆◆◆
The following morning, you wake up in Alhaitham's bed to a delicious scent. As he isn't beside you, you have a feeling that he's already in the kitchen making breakfast. You put on your clothes and head to the washroom. Once you enter the living room, you see Alhaitham putting two plates on the table.
He smiles. “Morning, love.”
“Ooh, what are we having this morning?” you ask, sitting down.
“The Alhaitham special,” he answers, kissing your head.
You laugh. "The what?" Then, he puts a round plate in the middle of the table. It looks like pizza as it's round with meat and vegetables on top. You take a piece and bite into it. Your eyes widen in surprise. "Oh, wow. Not bad."
“...It’s what my Dad used to make,” Alhaitham says, sitting on the opposite side of you. Before you can ask, he continues, “I finally got in touch with him.”
“Really?”
“It was when we were taking time apart. My grandfather was the one who found him.”
“...Did your father tell you anything about the divorce?”
“...I never thought I’d get to talk to you again, Haitham. Does your mother know about this?”
“She does,” Alhaitham answered. “A lot of things have happened… and I think she finally came to her senses.”
“It’s hard to imagine she changed.”
“What happened between you and Mom?”
“She didn’t tell you?”
“...She was very vague,” Alhaitham said.
His father sighed. “...Your mother became obsessed with her career. When she got a promotion, she was already thinking about the next one. I found it admirable at first, but she started using questionable methods to get there.”
“...Questionable methods? Like what?”
“She would use people. And, after getting what she wants, she tossed them aside. I… made a suggestion to her one day, but when things didn’t go as planned, she changed entirely.”
“...What happened?”
“One of her colleagues stole her work. It was a market research report that your mother had been working on for a couple of months. Their company hired someone new after one of her colleagues left. Your mother was a top performer, so”—he sighed—“I suggested she let that new colleague take a look at her report so he can learn from her."
“And that person stole it?”
“...That’s right. He handed it in as his own. I think that was when our relationship really spiralled downwards”
“...Does your mom know that you know about this?” you ask.
“She knows I talked to him, but she didn’t ask about the details. Perhaps she doesn’t want to deal with the past anymore.”
A small pause.
“...I have to say,” you begin, and Alhaitham looks at you. “Your mother may have been trying to protect herself, but selfishness can only go so far before it comes back to bite you.”
“...That’s true. It’s a lesson she learned the hard way.”
And you hope she’ll never forget it.
…
…
…
Two years later
“Do you ever miss being a cat?” Childe asks.
You, Alhaitham, and Childe are having lunch together at Lambad’s Tavern on a sunny afternoon.
That’s a question Alhaitham never thought he’d have to answer. But… it has finally happened. Ever since you and Alhaitham officially got back together, he has never turned back into a cat.
“What about you?” you ask Childe.
As Childe's relationship with his parents got progressively better, his cat transformation also began to die. Now that more of his scripts are getting approved for production, Childe hasn't transformed for nearly a month.
“There’s not really a lot of perks to being a cat,” Childe says. “The only perk would be cuddles with Lumine.”
You give him a slight deadpan look, and he smiles.
Then, you hear Ayato’s voice.
The three of you turn to the TV and see him and his female co-star talking to a journalist.
“He’s been really busy nowadays,” Alhaitham says.
Childe looks at you. “We have you to blame for that."
It’s been almost two years since you officially finished the script for My Boss is My Cat. You’ve worked on it tirelessly, but you had a great support system. After telling Alhaitham that it was loosely based on your relationship with him, he gave you a kiss and said that it would be an absolute hit.
Well, he wasn’t entirely wrong.
You may not have won Best Screenwriter for the effort you put into My Boss is My Cat, but you’re still proud that the company liked it enough to produce it. In the end, Ayato got cast as the male lead and was in the running for a few awards.
The last time you and The Strays talked to him, Ayato said that his transformation was also wearing off. But it was when he was nominated that he noticed that he hasn’t been transforming during his kiss scenes. You still remember the small smile he had when he said he never thought he’d be wishing to transform into a cat.
“Well, what can I say?” you ask with a small smile. “Everyone likes a good cat story.”
“Maybe I should write one, too,” Childe jokes. Then, he looks at you and Alhaitham. “By the way, aren’t you two moving in together?”
You and Alhaitham look at each other and smile. That’s right. You and Alhaitham are moving in together. After Alhaitham’s temporary tenure as CEO, he went on to pursue a higher position than before at Akademiya. And since he’s no longer your boss, your relationship is no longer a secret. What’s more convenient is now that Lumine got a new job as a character designer for a gaming company, she’s looking for a new place. Yours just happen to be free and closer to her company.
“...So, don’t tell me it’s just going to be the two of you,” Childe continues.
“Someone’s nosy,” Alhaitham says, half-jokingly.
“Aw, man, I just want to know if there’s like… I don’t know! A wedding or something!”
You and Alhaitham look at each other again. Then, you look at Childe. “When the time is right, it’ll happen naturally.”
Childe sighs. “So, I guess I won’t be a Godfather anytime soon.” When Childe catches a knowing look between you and Alhaitham, he gasps. “Wait, don’t tell me you’re…”
"No," you say. "But... I wouldn't say we're completely child-free."
Childe looks from you to Alhaitham. “What is this supposed to mean? I need an explanation!”
◆◆◆
Later that weekend, you and Alhaitham invite Lumine and Childe over for lunch. As soon as Alhaitham opens the door, your newly adopted kitten slowly gets up from his cat bed and walks over.
“He’s so cute!” Lumine gushes as she crouches. She extends her arms and the kitten walks closer so she can pick him up. "What did you name him?"
“When we adopted him, the person says he responds to the name Kazuha,” you say.
“Kazuha?” Childe asks. “Why Kazuha?”
“Not sure. It was the name that was in the box they found him in."
“How could anyone abandon a poor, innocent animal like that?” Lumine huffs, standing up with Kazuha in her arms.
Childe walks over and leans close to the cat who stares at him. “Is it just me or is he kinda quiet?”
You laugh. “You have no idea how much he tried to attack Haitham’s hair.”
“His hair?”
You point to the strand of hair that’s sticking out from the top of Alhaitham’s head.
“Glad it’s still in one piece,” Childe says with a smile.
"And I hope it stays that way," Alhaitham says.
Kazuha hops out of Lumine's arms and onto the couch. "Wouldn't it be funny if Kazuha isn't actually a cat?" she jokes.
You and Alhaitham glance at each other. "What makes you say that?" he asks.
“Oh, it’s nothing. I just thought it would be funny if you happened to adopt a cat who’s also afflicted with the curse.”
“Surely we would’ve noticed a stranger in the house," you say. "We adopted him a while ago."
Lumine chuckles. “Yeah, that’s true.”
Then, your sister and Childe head to the kitchen to grab drinks. You and Alhaitham are about to follow them when you hear a soft meow. Both of you stop and turn around. After Kazuha cleans his face with his paw, he looks at you and Alhaitham and winks.
You've heard of cats winking, so this shouldn't be anything unusual. Right? You and Alhaitham glance at each other.
...Right?
End Notes:
...FIN.
You and Haitham are now proud parents of cat Kazuha who may or may not be... the real Kazuha. XD.
Will there be a sequel of you and Haitham raising Kazuha? ...Erm, probably not.
BUT
There might be a separate spin-off cat Kazuha story in the future. I already have an idea for it. Of course, the pairing will be You/Kazuha but the "you" in that story will obviously not be the same one here. It'll be a separate story with mentions/references to this one.
It still hasn't hit me that MBIMC is over. But you and Alhaitham's story has ended. When I started this story three or so months ago, I never thought it would get this many views. So, thank you for all the love and support <3
And now... I can finally start on the fic that's been plaguing me for months LOL. Any Honkai Star Rail readers here? :> You may see me pop up in that fandom soon...
But until then, TAKE CARE <3
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#alhaitham x you#alhaitham fluff#alhaitham smut#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham#alhaitham x y/n#alhaitham x yn#genshin al haitham#al haitham x reader#al haitham fluff#al haitham x y/n#al haitham#genshin alhaitham
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𝓓𝓮𝓮𝓹𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓕𝓮𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰
𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑨𝒍𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒎, 𝒉𝒆 𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒔 𝒂𝒏 𝒆𝒚𝒆 𝒐𝒏 𝑵𝒊𝒍𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝑨𝒍𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒎 𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒐𝒕𝒉 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒎𝒔 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝑲𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒉 𝒔𝒖𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒂 𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒚𝒐𝒖.
.ೃ࿐ 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙰𝚕𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚖 𝚡 𝙶𝚗!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
.ೃ࿐ 𝚃𝚠: 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑, 𝙾𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍-𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝
.ೃ࿐ 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟻𝟹𝟸
Ever since you're in a relationship with Alhaitham, he keeps an eye on Nilou and now Alhaitham cleaning both of your shared rooms after your passing while he does it Kaveh suddenly gives him a letter from you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dear, Alhaitham
Nilou's dance is always so amazing and dazzling, right?
You always look at her with a little bit of a smile on your stoic face, well have you ever smiled at me that way? I don't know
I was always jealous and want to pull your chin to just look at me alone but that was unfair and too much right?
Every time I see you smile at her I feel dizzy and have chest pain, wanting you to comfort me with a hug.
But don't worry I always love you! I know this is dumb, but this is how I feel.
I'm sorry I didn't tell you about my illness, or maybe I don't have to be sorry? Maybe I shouldn't write this letter.
The doctor said I don't have a lot of time left, but I don't want to trust him. I just hope that you never find this letter and we already live happily ever after if that's possible.
I'm sorry I forced you to be in this relationship with me, I know that you didn't like it when I nuzzle or cuddle with you. But I just want to feel that warm.
The warm that isn't pure at all, at least I know someone with me.
Every time I hug you my chest pain always eases a little, isn't it amazing how I was so comfortable with you?
I wrote this letter in Bimarstan, Kaveh found me passed out while waiting for you. I don't know what you're doing now, but please don't push yourself too hard Mr. Grand sage!
I hope you eat the cake that I made. I just hope that's not the last cake that I made for you.
Eat it okay?
I'm sorry if this letter leaves a tears stain... I just want to express how I feel.
I always hesitate when I try to say it to your face to face, my brain always gives me countless possibilities of what your answer is, and most of them are answer that I don't want to hear.
Nilou is lucky really... Have a man like you that love her. She is sweet, isn't she? I already tell her that you have an eye for her! Don't worry.
I just want to pay you back after what you did for me because I'm being clingy and always want to be with you 24/7 and now you deserve to be happy.
I died happily even if sit on Bimarstan bed like this.
Thank you for everything.
I hope you forgive me and forget me.
Be happy Alhaitham.
If I die I always watch you from up there!
Keeping an eye out for you.
Be your guardian angel
Y/n
I love you soo much, more than anything!
"Sorry... I-"
With love
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He mumbles to himself.
But it was all too late.
He takes a deep breath and tries to keep the tears that try fall out of his eyes.
Notes: Thank you for reading! I’m sorry If I messed something up and typo some words. Love you all!
#genshin impact#genshin angst#genshin fanfic#alhaitham#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x reader angst#alhaitham x you#alhaitham x yn#genshin alhaitham#milkywaywritesgenshin#milkywaywritesangst#angst
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Disturbing Alhaitham while he’s reading
gn!reader x alhaitham
smut
I found inspiration while scrolling through my forbidden twitter feed..
You and your boyfriend, Alhaitham, are currently hanging out in your bed. By hanging out I mean he’s reading his book while you’re on your phone. The only sound emitting was the sound of your phone and the pages flipping on his book. You initially invited him because of your needs tht couldn’t wait any longer.
Instead of waiting for him to do something, you decided you’d do something yourself, slipping a hand between his legs, rubbing on his clothed length. Alhaitham quickly notices and finally looks up from his book for the first tike ever since he picked it up.
“name, what are you doing?” Alhaitham asks. He looks down between as he felt his member already hard from the simple gesture.
“nothing… just keep reading.” You giggled and caressed his clothed tip, making him jolt.
“I can’t- ngh..” His breath hitches.
“Why not?” You said, your voice coming out sweet like honey.
“P-Please, love… just 3 more pages…” He breaths out, his eyes repeatedly glancing from his book to your hands who were now sliding down his pants along with his boxers, releasing his hard cock. You tapped and played with his tip that had already been soaked of pre-cum.
“Come on baby… you know-“ He gasped when he felt you take his cock in your mouth whole. You took a few moments to get used to his size and started bobbing your head up and down, batting your eyelashes at him. He finally puts the book down on the nightstand along with his reading glasses and grabs a fistful of your hair, forcing you onto his cock.
“Fine then, hm? You want this so bad? I’ll give it to you, but don’t expect me to be gentle with you tonight.” His tone was dominant and harsh. Your hands gripped on his hips as wet lewd sounds came from your mouth, tears trickling down your face at the feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat everytime he forces down you.
“Mmm… take my cum like a slut,, yeah?” He groans, pushing his cock deep inside, forcing you to swallow his cum. He lets go of your hair and you pull out. He grabs your arm and pulls you in for a rough kiss, his hands sliding under your tank top, pulling them off you. He slips off your shorts and underwear, giving a hard smack to your ass.
“You’re gonna ride me good, yeah? Gonna fuck yourself, hm?” He says harshly, holding you by your hips as you take his cock inside you, gasping and whimpering as he already thrusted his hips in you, giving you no time to adjust.
pls enjoy my once in a month horny post, ive been so onsessed with alhaitham it’s unhealthy…
#Alhaitham#alhaitham x you#alhaitham smut#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x yn#genshin impact#alhaitham headcanons#genshin headcanons#genshin impact smut#sumeru#alhaitham x gn reader
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ally of what you see, enemy of what you read
alhaitham x gn!reader
word count: 1.2k
sfw, fluff, friends to lovers, allusions to Ibyn Al-Haytham (direct quote)
synopsis: you are blind to what you see, and an ally of what you read, when what you see is alhaitham, and what you read is lies.
i hope people understand this, i’m tired and should be studying for a bio exam, but instead i’m feeling my english major self so here you go.
His eyes always caught your attention. The way they would sit under a pair of half-lidden lashes when reading a book while hands were covered with the fancy scribe gloves spreading the book out by its spine. Eyes moved slowly across the page- just as gorgeous as a painting, with a major centerpiece with several details evolving around it. The blue and green all melded together to be a background for his iris-almost cat like. A fine line was pressed onto the scribe’s face, deep into thought.
You decided to grab a table at the House of Daena to be a productive scholar. You had your iced coffee from Puspa cafe and opened your notebook. You swiftly took out your feather quill and began transcribing information from your book into your notes. Along the way however, your head lifted up to grab a sip of your liquid caffeine only to find a work of art sitting on the window sill, by a bookcase with a red cover in between his hand reading. You found it interesting how he always sat with one leg over the other-you weren’t one who sat “correctly” either.
His eyes shifted towards you-almost seeming he sensed your gaze. You quickly put your coffee down, and dove back into the pages of the books-but those eyes seeped into your mind. They burned onto your skin, and suddenly, you were blind. You could still see the words in front of you, and you continued your day as someone with sight-but you were blind to the obvious in front of you.
What you didn’t see was his smile when your head dipped down, or the way his vision lingered onto you moments after. What you failed to see was those iris soften, and the tips of his lips tilt up beneath his book. You glanced up once again, but instead of him reading, you saw an empty window seat with the sunlight seeping through-putting the red book in the spotlight.
“Oh, he forgot his book.” You whispered, walking over to pick it up. You brushed your fingers along the embellishments and held it carefully, until something slipped out. A white piece of paper fell down at your feet, tickling you to pick it up. You put the book into your satchel with your other things, and looked at the note.
“If learning the truth is a scientific's goal, then he must make himself the enemy of all that he reads”
You tilted your head in confusion, but kept the note, after discarding your empty coffee cup. You walked out of the library with the note in your hand flickering between your fingers.You were a scholar and those words were written in your favorite Scribe’s handwriting-so carefully delicate with precision. This had to mean something.
You flipped the note over to find a note on the back as well.
Razan Garden, nightfall.
You sigh to yourself, walking along the path that stretched along the trunk of the massive tree that covered Sumeru city. You immediately took note that it was nightfall, and a silver haired scholar awaited your presence.
“I believe you have my book.” He spoke, straight to the point. You nodded, slipping into your bag to grab it out. His hands brushed against yours and you gave it back to him.
“Thank you.” He said softly, as you nodded, an expression on your face that piqued Alhaitham’s interest.
“What’s up?”
“Why did you write this quote on this?” You asked him, as he scoffed. His eyes piercing your soul.
“You’re a clever thing. You’ll figure it out.”
“Alhaitham…” You whine, as he chuckled.
“It doesn’t make sense. You love to read, why do you want to be an enemy?” You asked, earning a laugh from him.
“Who said I was the enemy?” He smiled, walking away under the night sky, as you groaned.
************************
Sighing, you ran through your brain for an answer or an explanation to the phrase he wrote. You tapped your foot on the floor of the tavern, as you listened to the sound of scholar’s giggling. You were also reading one of the new editions of the paper of Sumeru City-published by the Akademiya. You came across a section about the scribe.
“Oh yes, that cold-hearted and romantically distanced Scribe. He most likely is in love with his books.” was a quote someone wrote, which made your heart sink. You hit your head on the side of the table, causing you to say ow, earning laughter from the other side.
He stood there with his arms crossed, holding two cups of coffee. He invited himself to the table, despite you clearly being a mess and panicking.
“Remember, be an enemy of what you read.” He whispered close in your ear, causing you furrow your eyebrows in thought, when immediately you stared into his eyes.
“You’re blind to the evidence supporting everything, and yet you are an ally of what destroys you.” He continued, sipping his coffee, watching you carefully. Eyes moving catlike, observing you. She tapped her finger, right on the tip of finally uncovering it.
“What it says in the newspaper is wrong! You’re not cold-hearted and romantically distant.” You shouted, standing up, causing a few people to turn, but then turned away-seeming it was another student coming up with a brand new thesis.
“You’re a clever thing.” He whispered, but then looked back.
“So the next part is being blind. Look at me.”
You stare at him, eyes looking deep into his, as his gaze softens. You look down and find his hands shaking, and back up to find his cheeks red. You notice his lips parted awaiting for the future, and you gasp.
“Eyes are the gateway to the soul. Through those eyes can you figure out someone’s true intentions. Once you stop being blind, you can see their soul through their eyes, and begin to be an enemy of what you read.” You thought out loud, as his lips opened more in surprise. His eyes softened once more as you chuckled.
“So what did you find?” He asked, his hand reaching for yours under the table, and you politely accepted.
“That your heartbeat quickens everytime I’m here. That your vision sparkles with more power than before, that your cheeks turn red, that your ever-so steady hands shake. That your parted lips wait for a kiss….” You lean in, but hesitant.
“You like me?” You widen your eyes in shock. He nods, terrified for this moment, as you look at him.
“And you accuse me of being blind, yet you stand here.” You speak with a giggle in your words, as the scribe is left dumbfounded.
“Be an ally of what you see, Alhaitham.” You chuckle, leaning in quickly.
In a small corner of the tavern, the light was barely enough to read or see the table, concealed by a curtain that was a style choice, and buried from sight due to the many chairs placed everywhere- lips touched.
#i hope people understand this#alhaitham x reader#genshin impact#Alhaitham genshin impact#alhaitham x yn#bluelead35#literature#allusions#sumeru#friends to lovers#scholars#actually having to think#mystery#brain game#mind games but academic#alhaitham is a sneaky scholar#fluff#safe for work
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Boyfriend hours - Alhaitham as your S/O
I never proofread shit.
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idgaf, he’s clingy.
he’s the type to follow you without saying a word. And at random he’ll just, rest on you? Like, place his head on top of yours and wrap his arms around your torso. “hm, y/n my love.” “yes haitham?”
“can I kiss you.”
he’s literally whipped.
flopping on your body after a long day at the Akidemiya, asking you to pet his head while you watch his eyes starting to droop. Kissing his forehead before he falls asleep.
I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. he likes holding your hips when you make out. It just gets him going, no further questions.
and on that note, expect a good morning, and goodnight kiss. If you even dare forget, this full grown man will mope around while trying to do his work. spacing out, wondering if you don’t like kissing him. yeah, this poor guy is confused.
aggressively works faster to get home
and when he does, he gives you the deepest kiss he’s probably ever given in his entire emo life.
“hah, what was that for?” “you forgot this morning” and will straight up walk into the house like nothing happened.
loves holding your hand at home and observing your fingers while fiddling with them.
SILENCE BOTTOM
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HAHAHA IM BACK SHJENFNFKD I don't care thar this is a mess. I'm writing this at work as we speak.
#genshin impact#yes i put genshin in the tag#genshin x you#genshin x yn#genshin x reader#al haitam x reader#al haitham#alhaitham#al haitham x you#sumeru bby#alhaitham x reader
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Into the Sky of Artificial Stars
Summary: Could a chest that lacks a heartbeat still learn how it would feel? Could the whir of a motor be enough of a substitute?
Word Count: 25k (I will not explain myself)
Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Slow burn (oh my), Slow fic (oh boy), SMUT(r18+), NSFW, Researcher!Reader, insomniac!Reader, Android!Alhaitham, Workaholic!Reader, soft!Alhaitham, Modern AU, Android AU, human x android dynamics, Heavy Angst, Fluff, Heavy adult themes, academic trauma, toxic family pressure, toxic academia themes, struggles of poverty and academic inequality, TW: Exploration of grief, death, and guilt, TW: Survivor's guilt and tragedy, exploration of humanity and morality, slight mentions of violence, service top!Alhaitham, test subject to lovers? slightly possessive!Alhaitham? body worship, touch starvation? cunnilingus, he falls hard like a fool, but what is there to catch a fool who tried to reach for an unobtainable star?
Authors Note: This has been in the drafts for a very long time. My first foray into sci-fi kinda? I did my best with jargon and everything, so please forgive any mistakes I've made in regard to the technical stuff. An exploration into an artificial star. Enjoy
Are you just your conscience?
All the collective thoughts, desires, and ideals that congregate in your mind and influence your every action. Do your thoughts define you?
Are those cognitive functions, formed through a mix of instinct, teachings, and life experiences, what differentiates a man from a featherless biped?
If so, then are algorithms, simulations, and data sets interchangeable with what creates cognitive functions? Theoretically, it gives a machine the ability to develop a conscience. It gives a machine the ability to be human.
Perhaps, a sterile lab won’t be the most fitting environment to form such a thing.
What if we clothe the machine, provide a roof over its head in a nice quiet house, and feed its mind with the mundane details of existence? Then, could technology bring a machine over the boundary of humanity?
To engineer a brain, a conscience, a life with bare mortal hands. As if to replicate the gods. To compete with the authority of gods through scientific progression, many warn about the possible repercussions.
However, if to give and take life is deemed sinful to be done by mortal hands, then what made those unseen gods any different?
Regardless, such philosophical ramblings won’t help you in finishing the half-written report in front of you.
Looking past the two years' worth of reports sent already, innumerable papers penned by you within the sleep-deprived confines of the Akademiya. With a doctorate framed proudly on bland walls, that should be proof of your ability to type up a simple conclusion, right?
The weighted taps against a backspace key argue otherwise. Frustration leaves your lips in the form of a sigh as you test out a new string of words. Could these few sentences even be comprehensive of the leap in scientific progress made by mankind?
The shapes of letters merge together, forming incomprehensible blotches of black pixels against the white backdrop. Quickly, your lids shut to offer your eyes some much-needed reprieve from the harsh light of the monitor.
It was quite naive of you to believe subjecting your weary eyes to the punishment of light mode would drive up productivity.
Your fingers remove themselves from the keyboard, perhaps your body’s stubborn protest against sitting at the desk for another minute. Maybe a coffee break is an order.
You shouldn’t be too harsh on yourself, there hasn’t been a precedent for an experiment like this. A collaboration between the prideful Fontainian Research Institute and the arrogant Kshahrewar Darshan, the first of its kind.
Perhaps the real marvel is how the weight of their combined egos hasn’t sunk this project into the depths of abandonment.
With a subtle squeak, your office chair rolls back granting you permission to stand up and stretch your weary limbs. Letting out a slight groan as signs of time made themselves known to your bones. The ramifications of your negligence.
Slow steps pad through the quiet halls, floor boards singing a hymn with your leisurely stride toward the kitchen. As you make your way to the end of the long, empty hallway a silvery hue steals your attention.
Slightly obscured by the oak door frame to your home library stood the culmination of your years of overtime and long nights. A surge of anticipation places a slight weightlessness on your legs.
Approaching the end of the hall where the humble library resides, the oak doorway finally framed him in clear view.
Structure much more nimble and organic than the gardemeks framework, with materials sourced from the finest suppliers. The most advanced software and artificial intelligence capabilities ever developed since the Akasha.
The first and only of his kind: The Android Alhaitham.
The said pinnacle of human ingenuity and knowledge is currently flipping through a paperback book as the sunlight illuminates his synthetic skin.
The bounce light made his silver locks glimmer. As your steps slowed to a stop, he took notice of your presence. A soft snap of pages closing resounds through the passive air as Alhaitham turns his focus to you.
Your gaze ran along the neat spines lining each shelf, a small stack of unsorted books still left by his feet, but this morning there were numerous identical piles littered all over the library.
He seems to not have any issues making progress on his assigned tasks, a great sign.
You note that his button-down was a different color today, a sign that he’s practicing switching to a new set of clothes regularly.
A sign of routine, developing habits, and showing his steady learning of human behavior.
The frustrations from an unfinished report fade into obscurity as the subject of your research continues to observe your form. How easy it is to forget the big picture when you stress over the small details.
With this gentle reminder, a soft curl tugs at the corners of your lips.
Alhaitham repositions his stance, turning his body to face you, you figure he must be anticipating another task from you. Since he seems to be mostly done with his previous one, why not assign a new one?
“Could you brew me a cup of coffee, Alhaitham?” As he processes your request, you inspect his teal eyes, catching the slight glow signaling that his response is ready.
“I could, but unfortunately the interval of opportunity has already passed.” His baritone voice articulates.
A subtle quirk made its debut on your brows as your eyes shifted toward a clock hanging up in the corner of the study, its ticking hands displaying the time: 5:15 p.m.
“Huh… you won’t grant me an extension?” You turn back to him.
“If you have a request then please state it between my working hours of 9:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m., you’re always free to submit again tomorrow.”
He doesn’t budge. An android capable of autonomous training and self-study is different from those gardemeks who only function when given tasks. The ability to develop self-awareness, consciousness, and to think comes with its own caveats.
In Alhaitham’s case, his stubborn nature. Conceivably, he likely reviewed Sumeru’s labor laws and decided that he was entitled to such labor rights as well.
“I work overtime almost every day for your research and development, but you can’t spare me 15 minutes?” Your lips form a pout, but you already predicted his next output.
“Your poor work-life balance is not my responsibility.”
Your prediction was correct.
Another sigh leaves your lips, it’s just one of the trade-offs you must accept. After all, learning to be a human is the reason why he was created. A feat once thought to be unachievable. But he exists, and he’s developed quite a character.
To change the trajectory of this conversation you glance at the book held within his hold.
“Frankenstein by Mary Shelly?” You read the title aloud.
“Yes, the 1831 edition, it’s quite the story.” Alhaitham opens the covers once more.
“Mm, maybe I should be more cautious of what information you come across.” A subtle grin tugging at the corners of your lips as his teal eyes land back on you.
“It’d be a bit of an issue if you were to turn against me from the wrong influences.” Resting your body against the oak doorway as you observe the android process your jest.
“There are safety restrictions already in place to prevent such occurrences, the possibility is near zero. However, if you are still concerned then feel free to upload a list of banned materials for the next version update.”
A huff of a chuckle escapes you as you shift more of your weight against the wooden frame.
“Of course, of course, just remember to place your books back where you found them.” Pushing off the doorway, you allow Alhaitham to continue his unsupervised learning as you amble closer to the kitchen.
The soft clinking of cups and spoons chime through the evening air as you scoop a few ounces of ground coffee into the brewer.
As the water slowly brings itself to a low rumble, you occupy your wait staring out the glass and at the setting sun. The flaming scarlet hues and warmth blend into mellow indigo as the night begins to reveal her stars.
Dusk, when the line between day and night blurs to an indistinguishable mess. Would a singularity also look as luminous as the setting sun? The answer might be closer than ever before.
The reaction to the announcement of an android development project was at first astonishment, that human knowledge had progressed this far. And the secondary reaction that followed like ripples was fear. Fear that humans will soon be replaced by beings of silicon and steel.
That a singularity would signal the end of humanity.
Well, this was always the common reaction to disruptive change. Many cases of public pushback and hysteria against innovations you can reference throughout history. The human reaction to the unknown.
They always gossip and fearmonger about an android domination of all of Teyvat. But have those people ever stopped to consider that the android could simply be too lazy to have such ambitions?
Instead of becoming cruel overlords, they’d rather leave books strewn about as they dock themselves into their charging port.
To learn to be human means to learn human slothfulness too, no? Or maybe Alhaitham’s algorithm just decided to train himself to incorporate it. What a peculiar enigma he is, this android currently residing in your house.
Your thoughts circle back to a certain novel you haven’t touched in years. A work of science fiction written by a genius author barely over the cusp of adulthood.
You wonder how she would’ve described this impending singularity.
A distant toll rang from the depths of a dreamless void, each chime reaching closer and closer until the bright tune devolved into jarring blares. Piercing enough to set your heavy lids into motion.
Just as they peeked open, they flinched back shut from a stray ray that snuck between the gaps of your curtains.
Your leaden body groans at the brightness of the room, the luminosity much greater than when you had originally settled under the covers. Yet, even with your groggy complaints the alarm resting on the nightstand offered no mercy, continuously bellowing its monotone pitch.
With a sharp slap, your world returns to its silence.
Angling the alarm towards you as you creak open one eye, the blurry red pixels slowly merge together to display the time.
Didn’t you have a meeting scheduled for today?
Another groan follows your dreadful discovery and you roll back under the plush blanket. Not much different from a child trying to protect themselves from the grasp of a fictitious monster.
Soft comforters block the morning glow contained behind thick curtains, yet your permission to access a blank serenity was denied. It seems that your quota for sleep has been fulfilled.
Barring you from any excess repose, not that you expected anything less. A monster that torments a young mind might be fictitious, but the realities of capitalistic responsibilities unfortunately aren’t.
Taking in a deep inhale, you prep your body for the next set of dreaded actions with its drowsy limbs. Before it had the chance to protest, you kicked the covers off, ripping away the warm security from your skin.
Ambling down the hall you gradually made your way into the kitchen, there under the morning light sat a steadfast figure whose eyes never left the book in front of him.
“Good Morning.” You initiate the first conversation of the day.
“Congratulations.”
You pause, hand in the midst of rubbing away the tiredness of your eyes. Staring perplexingly at his sudden praise. Alhaitham’s focus remains on his novel even as he answers your unasked question.
“You’ve beat your previous record of how many alarms it takes to get you out of bed, I believe it went off five times this morning.”
A few beats of uninterrupted silence follow the aftermath of his response. A chain broken by a deep sigh which leaves your body.
“It’s far too early for this, Alhaitham.” Your hand goes back into motion, this time attempting to rub away frustration.
“Spare me your sarcasm until after you’ve made me breakfast and a cup of coffee.”
From the glance you took at your clock from earlier, it’s currently well into his operational hours.
“Understood.” Setting the book down, his tall frame makes its way into the kitchen.
Settling down at the lacquered table, your seat grants you a clear view of your android collecting some eggs from the refrigerator. Even as the hands of fatigue beckon your lashes to flutter shut, you refuse to indulge in such luxuries.
You had to watch just in case he decided his book couldn’t wait.
A series of trials and errors already well documented in those weekly reports back to the Akademiya and Institution. A human in training is bound to have some mishaps occur, or more accurately, this android might have different priorities.
One notable case was the time you asked Alhaitham to clean the floors while you attended a conference call. Only to step into puddles of soapy water the moment you leave your office door.
Connecting eyes with teal as he stood in the middle of it all mop in hand. For the time being, you’ve barred him from such tasks.
Although, you wouldn’t be surprised if he made a mess just as an excuse to sit back on the couch with a book. This fickle android of yours. Your third sigh of the day.
–-------------------------------------------------------------
The tranquil afternoon interlude that enveloped the house was interrupted by a sharp chime. Glancing at the numbers displayed on the corner of your screen, it looks like it’s right on schedule.
You had just concluded your monthly conference call, it’d be good to stretch your legs a bit after sitting through a few hours of professional formalities.
Leaving your home office to journey toward the front door, you spot Alhaitham’s frame by the entranceway. His head turns to acknowledge your presence. Passing him to make your way to the front door, you hear him shift closer.
Soon the brilliance of a star pours into the entranceway, illuminating the hall as the door opens.
“Good afternoon, grocery delivery?” The young man on the steps greets, a strain in his polite tone as bags weigh down on his arms.
“Yes, there was a last-minute addition of henna berries, were you able to get those?”
“Yep, they’re in one of these bags.”
“Thank you, sorry for the trouble, I’ll take it from here.” You cast a glance over your shoulders back at a tall form standing idly.
“Please come help with the groceries.”
“Understood.” It took only a few strides for the burden weighing down on the delivery boy, effortlessly hanging them all on his engineered arms without a hint of strain.
“Careful, they’re heavy, mister-” The warning dies at the tip of the young man’s tongue as his wide eye reflects the artificial glow of teal irises.
It’s best to end this trial now, to prevent a commotion or disturbing the delivery boy who isn’t paid enough to be frightened. You could see it in the slight tremble of his agape mouth as his brain processed the thing in front of him.
“Thank you again, please don’t mind him, have a great day.” Before you could hear his response, the door was shut.
A bit rude according to societal norms, but you’re sure a generous gratuity bonus paid on top of the delivery fee is enough to stifle any disgruntlement. Considering his reaction, it looks like your hypothesis remains correct.
The people of Teyvat still need more time to adjust to the existence of androids. Just because science progresses, it doesn’t mean human acknowledgment moves at the same rate.
Turning away from the door, a pair of glass irises connect with yours, a sheen of expectancy just under the brilliant teal hue. Alhaitham stands there with the bags still hanging from his arms.
“If you already know what I’m about to assign you, then you should just take the initiative, Alhaitham.” You huff.
“It’s not a bad habit to wait for any specific instructions.” Came his baritone rebuttal.
“Just take those to the kitchen.”
“Understood.” He pivots away, taking slow steps toward the kitchen.
“Ah, sort them into the fridge and cupboards too, do not just dump them on the counter.” You warn, learning from your previous mistakes.
Seriously, Alhaitham has long evolved past needing step-by-step detailed prompts, thus you suspect it's merely an act of his.
You’ve watched his character develop, his habits form, and his routine take shape. Just where did he learn such behavior? This strange android of yours.
You watch as he carries the numerous bags without a hint of strain. Alhaitham was much better suited for carrying your week’s worth of rations from the market. Unfortunately, he is proprietary technology.
Clearance to allow an android out into the world hasn’t been granted yet.
Not that you were eager to receive it. The logistics of such an event are a nightmare to plan. The protocols needed in emergencies to ensure the safety of civilians and the millions of mora poured into his creation.
There’s always a nonzero chance his system gets overloaded from trying to analyze every blurred face in a crowd. A nonzero chance that he would simply wander beyond the merchants and their fruit stalls. A nonzero chance that the gem implanted between his collarbones could spark curiosity.
Those same curious eyes could catch onto the artificial glow of teal irises, morphing curiosity into terror.
Even in Fontaine where it was more common for machines to walk among crowds, they were always designed to look like machines. Their clockwork pieces are obvious and distinguishable, a design choice to bring comfort to the mortal psyche.
An easy way for a human to differentiate a person and a thing. If that line becomes blurred, then…
With a deep sigh, you reel your thoughts back from their philosophical journey. Regardless, it’d be a problem for the future to handle.
–-------------------------------------------------------------
Soft clacks resound from the keyboard as a new string of words appears on your screen, documenting the events of the day on your laptop as you sit on your sofa.
The soft cushions are a welcomed change from a stiff office chair. Just over the top of your screen, Alhaitham sat across from an adjacent couch. Methodically folding a basket of laundry and sorting them into piles.
An easy enough task for him, but as you watch you make sure to note down the improvements in his motor skills and dexterity. Movements organic and fluid, much like those of a human.
It truly is astonishing just how far technology has progressed, from clockwork pieces and clunky steps to the specimen sitting just a few steps away.
A tall and sturdy frame, well-portioned face with handsome teal irises, and synthetic starlight hair. Features created from the finest equipment and materials, a truly magnificent piece of scientific progress.
Amid your appreciation for his structure, Alhaitham halts all motion, setting down the towel back into the basket. Resulting in your eyebrows creasing together.
“What’s wrong Alhaitham? Did you forget how to fold a towel?”
Alhaitham did not attempt to entertain your jest, so much so, that he simply stared past you. Teal eyes honing in on an object just beyond you, never breaking focus to discern the bewilderment on your face.
Finally relenting, you follow his stare toward a clock, reading the time: 5:00 p.m.
“Seriously? You haven’t finished folding the laundry yet,” you remark in utter exasperation.
The teal glow of his eyes shows that he’s received your remark, yet he doesn’t make an effort to return a verbal response. He chooses instead to simply continue staring at the time as his hands wait by his side in opposition.
Him staring at a clock, you staring at him, a one-sided showdown.
A naughty cat prancing about a countertop where it shouldn’t be could simply be picked up and removed.
A disobedient dog dirtying the couch with its muddy paws could be lured off with the sight of a treat.
But an android? What are you going to do to an android whom you had to tilt your head up to make eye contact with?
This wasn’t a hill you’re willing to die on, thus with a dismissive wave of your hand, you concede. Allowing Alhaitham to do as he pleases, which he graciously does. His form leaves the couch, heading in the predictable direction of the library as a deep sigh leaves you.
This stubborn android of yours, you made sure to document this on today’s report. Just as how it was yesterday, and the day before, and even the day before that.
Hopefully, in the event of an actual android apocalypse, he might show you the same leniency. You couldn’t help but scoff at your ridiculous musings. A machine with nothing but a motor and battery in his chest, would he understand leniency even if you were to code it into him?
Soon his frame comes back into view, a pile of books clutched within his hold, just as you predicted. Shamelessly, he sits in the middle of his unfinished chores while leisurely scanning the pages in front of him.
This fickle, strange, and stubborn android follows the rhythm of his own motor regardless of what protocols you instill.
Yet, as you watch his fingers flip through the worn book and take up space on your couch, a smile develops on your features. A soft curl of your lips, easily obscured by the screen of your laptop.
A fickle, strange, and stubborn android is not too different from a person, one who had a heartbeat.
An android who takes up space on your couch and house, making it a bit less empty than previously. That was good enough.
What made man? Intellect? Innovation? Language?
This was the dilemma assigned to him since the very first time his system powered up in that facility, welcomed into this world by glaring fluorescent lights and the numerous stares of figures in white coats.
A dilemma that follows him even to his current place on a spacious couch.
According to sources pulled from the Akasha and cross-references from numerous printed materials made available to him, many throughout history have been pondering this same conundrum. A philosopher once defined man as featherless bipeds.
However, wouldn’t this make a plucked chicken a man too? A definition so ambiguous a mere student proved the teacher wrong.
Then, is man defined by their flesh? Having skin and bones instead of silicon parts and metal components? To have blood pumped by a heart instead of operating off a battery and motor? Was it biology that defined man?
But if that was the simple truth, then why was Frankenstein’s creation addressed as nothing more than a monster?
From his arms to his legs to his mind, everything which made up that creature was human. He had blood, he had flesh, he had bones. So why was he chased away by flaming torches and pitchforks as a mob screamed ‘monster’? Why was a creature made from human flesh not human?
His train of thought halts as a familiar set of steps patter against the floor. Automatically, his sights hone in at the corner of a wall even before your face reveals itself from behind it.
Teal-colored eyes refocus to catch the subtle perk of your eyebrows and widened eyes. An expression of surprise he analyzes, his immediate focus must have caught you off guard.
Did you have some other test outlined for him? Did you need to collect more data from earlier today? Another household task perhaps?
How unfortunate, the hour on the clock read half past 8 p.m. Have you not learned from your tardiness the week prior?
“If you have a request, then please wait until 9 a.m. tomorrow when I’m within my business hours.”
Even with the wall partially obscuring your form, the restrained giggle through lips fighting back a grin was picked up by his audio system.
“No, no, there’s no more tasks for today.”
As your gaze centers on him, he takes note of the refractions of fluorescent lights along your irises.
“Then is there something you’d like to discuss?” He prompts.
“Mm… no, not right now.”
His stone-faced stare was enough of a response, judging by the smile spreading across your features.
“I just felt like checking up on you, after all, you are the most proprietary piece of technology at the moment.”
At times like these, Alhaitham felt that the audio cue of a sigh was the most effective communication out of all the languages created by man. Muffed chuckles accompany it.
“I’ll leave you be then.”
The floorboards trill under your steps as you amble towards the kitchen. Alhaitham returns to the last few pages still left open on his lap.
Small tinkering from beyond the living room serves as an ambient tune. The swift opening and closing of a refrigerator door. A harsh pull on a microwave door is contrasted by the bright beeps of buttons, leading to a low hum.
He hypothesizes there to be some leftovers spinning around.
After the microwave sang its concluding chimes, the clatter of a plate follows a firm tug. A drawer rattles open, metal clinking against metal as you sift around for the right utensil. The drawer rattles again as it closes.
Rhythmic footsteps take center stage as they trail back down an empty hall, Alhaitham waits to hear the resounding click of a door returning to its frame. Just as the final echo of the click sounds out through the air he places the finished novel on the coffee table.
Leaving the comfort of the cushions, he makes his way to the kitchen to access the aftermath. A microwave door left wide open, a drawer only halfway closed, and of course another dirty coffee mug in the sink.
Returning the microwave and drawer to their rightful states, his teal eyes count the pile of cups sitting since this morning. A collection that grew throughout the day.
Alhaitham looks up in the direction of your office. A soft glow leaked out from under the gap of the door, bleeding light into the dim hall. His systems identify the audible taps of a keyboard and the occasional shift of an office chair. He deduces that you were working overtime again.
He found it a bit ironic at times. A body of mechanical components has no qualms about lounging on a sofa. But you, a creature of flesh and blood, refuse to submit to the allure of rest. Although, Alhaitham wouldn’t find it too implausible that coffee ran through those veins of yours instead.
Repetitive clacks of keys and mouse clicks play a melody he had heard ever since the first day he opened his eyes.
A tune that accompanies the rhythm of his steps and motions when he goes about his tasks as you document them.
A lullaby that plays after his routine tasks as he heads back to his charging port when you log a daily report.
An accompaniment to the silent moon and her stars as you stay up at a desk.
Needing to reach the next exit criteria. Needing to collect the next set of data. Needing to submit the next report.
Would it be because a body of flesh has agency? With cells in a losing race against time, was there something you wanted to attain within your mortal hands from this research before the race ended?
Or did you just want to fill the vacant lull of this house with those little taps of a keyboard?
Regardless, it’s not within his capacity to disturb your work. Thus all he could do was roll up his sleeves, turn on the running water, and pick up a sponge. Scrubbing the cups with warm soapy water, imitating the motions you’ve shown him before, until the dried stains vanish.
If it’s not featherlessness, if it’s not bipedalism, and if it’s not flesh… then could it just be agency that made him different from you?
Maybe he’ll ask you another day, placing the cups into the dish rack.
Sorting and organizational tasks are his strong suit, in other words, he’s very good at completing easy jobs. Leaving the more… tedious chores to you.
A heavy sigh leaves your lips as you rest on the handle of the broom. The hallway between your office and the bedrooms is the last section that needs to be swept.
Alhaitham was likely back in his place on the couch, book in hand as he lounged around. Weren’t androids created in hopes of making life easier?
So much for that, you internally huffed, repositioning your grip on the broom. A soft but bright clink catches your attention. Glancing down, you quickly discover the source. A ring wrapped around your finger.
Kept on your finger for so long, it’s become almost an extension of yourself, this keepsake piece of jewelry.
Abandoning the broom against a wall, your other hand fiddles with the gold band. A frown forms upon your lips when a faint scratch shows itself on the gold surface
Gingerly, you remove the ring, pinching it between your fingers as you hold it up to the light, examining the damage closer. The shine of its once-polished surface was dulled by trivial scuffs and dents, damaged by the signs of time.
Regrettably, it seems you’ve been neglecting it as well.
So much so, that the ring felt compelled to remove itself from your grasp in protest. Slipping out of your tender hold, which propels you into motion, graceless attempts at catching the small piece of jewelry to no avail.
It soon collides with the wooden floor as a chime rings out, still, gravity didn’t buy you enough time to catch the evasive gem. For it then decides to run under the gap of a door, disappearing from your sight. Leaving you there in defeat.
Taking a deep inhale, holding it for a few seconds, you release the air in your lungs. Returning your gaze up from the wood grain, you stare at the obstacle in front of you: a mere door.
Its brass knob gleams as if to taunt you, daring you to open it, to face what lay beyond. Slowly, you release your clenched fingers, setting your hand back into motion. You’re far too grown to be scared of a room in your own home, especially when you know what is behind it.
Its hinges ring out in surprise, it’s been a while since they were opened. The daunting door opens up to reveal a lackluster collection of old furniture, picture frames, and various other assortment of items.
Their forms all covered by plain sheets thrown over them, silhouettes, outlined like ghost. A slight tickle appears in your nose from the layers of dust you disturbed.
A poor, unfortunate room you’ve designated as storage, where items go to be neglected. You were busy enough with work as it is.
To avoid seeing the reminders of responsibilities you’ve been pushing off, you’d rather throw them behind a door. Out of your sight, out of your mind.
The sooner you find that ring, the sooner you can turn a blind eye to the various items you’ve long abandoned yet refused to let go of. Amongst the dull dust and sheets, it wasn’t very hard to spot the golden glimmer from peaking through.
Trudging towards the mischievous ring, you kneel to finally catch it within your hand. Such a troublesome thing, you chide as you stand back up. Bracing your other hand on the nearest sheet-covered surface, only for it to come into contact with an odd object.
Startled, you instinctively hold onto both the ring and the odd object as you jolt back up. Glancing down at your hands, your eyes finally identify the object.
A collection of tiny planets and stars dangling from thin strings glimmered with the soft light creeping in from the afternoon sun. A soft smile made its way to your lips.
How silly it was that a toy made to entertain young infants had you so enraptured. You bought it on a whim, then tossed it into the depths of a dust-covered room. And yet it’s now back in your hands. Perhaps the beckoning of the stars still calls for you.
A part of you wonders if it was your fascination with the night sky that caused sleep to evade you. Sitting up on a mattress well past bedtime to gaze out to the vast ocean of dazzling and blinking lights that dotted against a navy backdrop. While the pristine radiance of the moon reflected off your irises.
Or did your fascination develop because it was always the moon and her stars that silently accompanied your long nights?
Gentle lights who lent you their well wishes and encouragement as you anguished through assignments and exams.
What an honor it was for you to be able to witness her beauty so often. It was a pity that some, who disregarded her grace in favor of dreams, weren’t able to experience the brilliance of a starry night.
Maybe your parents fell in the category of the majority. Maybe that’s why they couldn’t even fathom such a thing.
A past conversation over an old wooden table started in your mind before you could muster the strength to push it back.
–----
“C’mon, eat, eat.” Your mother places a hearty serving of Biryani in front of you.
The old kitchen table groaned under the weight of the spread of dishes on its surface. To call it anything short of a feast would be a lie. The walls of the modest home are filled with a variety of rich aromas and spices.
“You have to eat to study harder, don’t think just because you made it into the Akademiya you can take it easy now.” Your father remarked.
“I wouldn’t dare dream of it.” You picked up your fork.
Letting out a chuckle, he pats your back as a rare smile graced his stern face. Your mother’s face mirrored the same radiance, the beaming glow of pride. For you, their daughter, their only child, and only hope had been accepted into the Akademiya.
The most prestigious university of all of Sumeru and Teyvat, with millions competing for those few spots each and every year. Only the best of the best, only those who outshone the rest, and only those gifted and blessed would ever be admitted.
Yet, you were sent a letter from the oh-so-grand institution.
A child from a town far away in the shadows of the grand Akademiya was accepted.
What were the odds of that? For a child whose own parents never got the opportunity for higher education to become the first to go off to university? The cause of this celebratory feast.
The warm Spring breeze contributed to the sweetness of this small moment in time, as plates were passed and glasses clanked.
All those scattered notes, cramped hands, and revisions have rewarded you with the golden brilliance of sunrise after endlessly long nights.
A smile crept up the corners of your lips. A light has finally appeared to illuminate this trending path you’ve climbed.
Your father washed down his previous bite with a sip from his cup, placing it down before he began his next question:
“Have you decided on which Darshan to go into?”
The sweet breeze turns into a chill down your spine as your fork halts its motion. The dilemma you have been dreading has finally arrived at the kitchen table.
You had to memorize every mathematical formula. You had to pinpoint every detail in a historical timeline. You had to know every syntax of a sentence. You had to understand the molecular structures of life.
A child had to learn everything, and now they had to pick something to learn. How would the child know? The child only knew how to study.
“Amurta? Spantamad? Oh, what about Kshahrewar? I heard that it was also good.” Your mother chimed in.
“Amurta?” Your father scoffed a bit.
“Dear, as if this tuition isn’t expensive enough, think of how much med school will cost.”
“Oh I know, I know, but you know how well doctors get paid! I heard those labs also give a decent salary.” Your mother reasons.
“Ah, but it takes too long. Engineering isn’t half bad either, there’s been a demand for more engineers recently.” Your father takes another sip of his drink.
“Oh, but it’s not up to us,” she turned to face you.
“It’s up for our little scholar now isn’t it?”
A paradoxical question, because your options were already decided for you from the very start.
Carefully selected paths were already laid out before you as your parents watched on with expecting eyes, waiting for your foot to take a step on the path they wanted most.
Poking at a stray grain of rice on your plate, you gather up the scattered pieces of courage. You were a child who only knew how to study, yet, a child is still susceptible to dreams, no?
“I have thought about it.” You began.
“And?” Your mother couldn’t help but nudge you to continue.
“I was thinking about Rtawahist,” you confessed.
It was as if even the sweet Spring air wanted to escape the now-still walls, leaving dread to fill the void it had left. No dishes were passed, no utensils rattled, and no cups clinked. Just bewildered stares you couldn’t bring yourself to answer.
“Rtawahist? As in the school that looks at the sky?” Your father’s face had returned to its stern default.
“Astronomy? Yes, that’s the Darshan that studies Astronomy.” Your eyes didn’t dare leave your plate.
Among the options selected by them from their perceptions of future opportunities and prestige for you. You dare interject with one of your own.
A deep sigh sealed your fate.
“Astronomy? You want to study Astronomy? And get what job?”
The pierce from your father’s harsh tone made you flinch, even though you expected it.
“You can look at the stars for free, why would I pay to send you to school to study something so useless?”
“There are jobs for Astronomy.” You reasoned.
“Like what?” His finger drummed against the wood.
“Like-”
You made the mistake of looking up from your plate, the fragile wisps of courage dissipated like smoke the moment you did. All the arguments and rebuttals you had prepared vanished along with it. The frown that pulled down your father’s face and the scrunched brow concern of your mother’s were enough to snuff out your pitiful rebellion.
“Go on.” He challenged.
“...”
“That’s what I thought.” Your father snatched up his cup.
Your focus retreated back to your plate, recentering on the grains of rice you pushed around with the ends of a fork. A motion that continued until another hand stopped yours.
“Little one…” Your mother began.
Her thumb traced over your fidgeting hand, a touch which comforted yet scorned you all at once.
“You know that lady who lived down the street? Her son got a career working with computers and now they live in a big house, doesn’t that sound nice?”
You hummed.
“Kshahrewar isn’t so bad, right? Just a few years and then you can get a good job.”
Yes, she had spelled out the purpose of your studies like red-inked corrections on a test. It was how it always was, why did you think it would change now?
Having to prove you deserved the food on the plate in front of you.
Having to bring home top grades to prove all those books and materials were worth it.
Having to get a job that could break this cycle your parents were trapped in. How else would you be able to pay them back?
It was their mora, earned from long hours and labor, that fed you, clothed you, and sheltered you. They made your world with their calloused hands. It was their justification to command it as well. You were their only child, their only investment.
This was the dilemma imposed upon you.
–----
Your fingers clench around the childish imitation of the night sky, running the plastic surfaces under your mindless touch. Thoughts still light years away in the recesses of your memories.
How silly, for someone who loved the planet and the stars so much how did you forget that one fascinating detail? Planets orbit a sun because of gravity.
It was the force of a greater mass that commanded the lesser, it was what kept a planet going round and round within its grasp. It was the gravity of the sun that gave a planet a direction, a path to follow, a purpose even.
Perhaps it’s because the sun knew what was best for its little planet.
It was the diplomas framed nicely on a wall that granted you a secure job, it was your cushy job that permitted you to purchase this cushy home.
Your parents planned this out long ago, thus you merely just followed.
However, when the sun disappears, when the central mass that gave a small planet a purpose disappears, what would the little planet do?
Drifting endlessly in a vacuum of nothingness, with no direction, no path, no light. No day or night and an endless Winter, would it be as if the world stopped spinning.
That little planet would be no different than a cold lump of rock in a vast emptiness.
A sharp creak pierces through the tormentful quietude, a chirr that reels your thoughts back to a dusty room. Head instinctively following the direction of the noise, you fixate on the doorway.
Catching the diffused afternoon sun glimmering in silver locks reminiscent of starlight.
Alhaitham stands silently at the threshold of the door, its frame perfectly centering him as his teal eyes analyze you. Not a single engineered limb crossed the boundary of the dusty room. Just as it was defined in a set of restrictions implemented into his system by you.
As evidenced by his unintentional disregard for his environment, the floorboards bearing witness to his careless execution of chores, you restricted him from this decrepit room.
Although all it contains is a chaotic collection of trinkets and keepsakes, the dust-coating provides them with a blanket of security. You saw no reason to change it.
A telling teal glow blinks momentarily before Alhaitham breaks the lull.
“Are you uncomfortable anywhere?”
It was just now that you noticed the wet trails rolling down your cheeks. Wiping away the cooling dampness on your skin, you confirmed the presence of tears. Your senses took their time returning from their escapade.
Alhaitham remains in his spot, patiently awaiting your next response. How embarrassing it is, to be seen in such a state by a being who could shed no tears. Quickly, you wipe away the trails on your other cheek.
“I’m fine, just lost in thought for a moment.” Swiftly you place the toy down.
A smooth weight encased in the palm of your hand reminds you of the ring, the item that lured you into this dusty room.
Perhaps it should be best to have let it remain undisturbed on your finger. It’s a common wives’ tale that keepsakes ward off bad omens.
“Is that truly all?” He made a no move, his eyes rescanning the environment as if unconvinced by your answer.
You wonder if it’s because of some protocol or conditional in his software. Safety measures set in place during this test of whether an artificial being could live in harmony with mortals.
However, as you gaze upon your magnum opus the specifics of programming and software fade into irrelevancy. Trailing your eyes up from his teal irises to his starlight silver trusses that glimmered in the soft light, revealing a hint of mint. It took you a while to find that exact shade during his manufacturing stage.
There’s always a chance that a drifting planet could be caught in the orbital pull of another. Whether it be man-made or not didn’t matter.
As long as it was of a significant mass its gravity should be enough to pull a lonely planet from its aimless wanderings. It can set the stray planet into a new orbit, giving it a new path.
A small lump of rock could find a new star to center around.
“Yes, I’ll be fine.”
You will be fine. Slowly, and with one step after another, you will be fine one day.
The typical 24-hour day for a working adult can be broken down into a set schedule. Waking up at around 8 a.m. to wash one’s face and brush their teeth as they make themselves presentable for work. Followed by a light breakfast or a cup of coffee before.
Some then start their commute to work or jump onto their desktop to clock in around 9 a.m. to begin their work. In the middle of their shift, usually around noon, they are granted a one-hour lunch break, after that they work until 5 p.m. when they finish their work.
Coming back home to enjoy dinner around 7 p.m. followed by an hour or two of leisure before a bedtime routine begins. Washing the day's influences off oneself, brushing their teeth, and changing into comfortable attire.
If they want to get a restful 8 hours of sleep they cannot go to bed any later than 10:45 p.m. to account for the 15-minute downtime to allow the body to enter the sleeping state.
This cycle then resets and repeats just as the sky cycles through the sun and moon. A typical and average reality for most adults in Sumeru. Well, from the data he pulled from the Akasha, this was the typical day for the average working civilian.
It just so happens that you’re a stray data point skewing the graph.
If he were to estimate your bedtimes from the activity of your desktop and laptop, it would be a chaotic set of timestamps ranging from 2 a.m. to 5 a.m., sometimes the activity on your devices never ceased. An indication of what is referred to as an ‘all-nighter’.
Behavior that might be acceptable for those attending the Akademiya, but certainly not for a working adult.
At this moment, Alhaitham stood in the hall just a few steps away from your bedroom door. His frame remained motionless to avoid disturbing the floorboards beneath him.
Taking into account your device’s activities, Alhaitham estimates your bedtime was 4: 45 a.m. this morning. Given how your alarm is set to around 8 a.m., amounting to about 3 hours of sleep.
Not even half of the recommended time by Sumeru’s health administration.
By all means, Alhaitham finds it confounding how you’re still able to perform so efficiently at your job, managing both the Insitute and Akademiya while operating on a few morsels of sleep.
He wonders if that was the reason why you were selected as the personnel who’s facilitating his learning.
Perhaps, they hoped he’d emulate your work ethic and efficiency. How unfortunate, his self-learning pivoted him away from such conduct.
As he stands observing the woodgrain of your door, Alhaitham finds himself at a crossroads. It’s not within his capacity to interfere, conditionals coded into his software to prevent him from disrupting your privacy.
Laws mandating the privacy of employees and civilians alike.
Simultaneously, there are protocols instilled in him that instruct him to prevent harm from befalling you.
A contradiction. Something that would cause a regular system to return an error as it fails to satisfy one conditional while trying to work within the bounds of another.
Chronic sleep loss results in an increased risk of heart attacks, strokes, and hypertension.
Long-term sleep loss also results in impaired memory and concentration, although it’s not affecting your productivity now, it doesn’t mean it won’t decline soon.
These statistics were all provided by Sumeru’s health administration.
The effects on the brain are quite severe as well, with increased feelings of stress, anxiety, and depression.
A quiet afternoon scene replays, in a dust-covered room, where he found you staring off at nothing as silent rivulets rolled down your cheeks.
That memory stored within his RAM was enough for Alhaitham to come to his conclusion.
Alhaitham must act on his own will and deal with anything that appears harmful in his eyes.
To allow you to continue your destructive routine which is proving to be detrimental to your health would be inadvertently allowing harm to befall you. Thus, he decides one conditional must override another.
Careful to prevent the hinges of your bedroom door from trilling, Alhaitham enters. Analyzing the shape outlined by messy layers of blankets draped over your figure, you must still be in the depths of slumber.
There are about 15 minutes before your first alarm is set to go off, since your commute was a simple walk to your home office, you had the flexibility to sleep through a few grating beeps.
This habit could use a few improvements. He turns his focus to the thick curtains hiding the room away from the greetings of a morning star.
Sunlight sends a signal to the pituitary gland, calling to suppress melatonin production and increase cortisol production and serotonin.
A natural cue for your body to start, to allow the bright rays to touch your skin would also be good for vitamin production too.
With a simple tug, the thick drapes were pulled away, granting the rays of the sun to enter and illuminate the still room.
Your body instinctively retreats deeper under the covers, a clear sign that the light is doing its job. He’ll leave the rest up to the alarm impatiently waiting to belt out its chorus of pitches. Just like the shadows slipping away, he exits just as quietly.
It took only two alarms to get you out of bed and ambling down the hall toward the kitchen. A 60% decrease from when the curtains were shut, however, more trials are needed to conclusively establish a pattern.
His teal gaze follows you as you approach the kitchen. Hands rubbing at your eyes.
“Why is it so bright?” Your words were groggy.
“It’s morning,” he answers.
An unamused glare replaces the fatigue in your expression, Alhaitham deems his response satisfactory.
After a deep sigh, you shut your eyes again, still trying to adjust to the brightness surrounding you, hands returning to rub at your eyelids.
Excessive rubbing of the eyes isn’t good for them, he notes. However, before he could address it another prompt from you took priority.
“Did I leave my curtains open last night?” You asked yourself.
“Coffee?” He interjects.
Glancing back up at him, you paused for a moment as your groggy mind remembered why you traversed to the kitchen in the first place, diverting your attention away from mysteriously moving drapes.
“Yes, please make me a cup, Alhaitham.”
“Understood.”
The android turns toward the marble countertop, preparing the coffee grounds into the machine as you sit at your place at the table.
One day isn’t enough to correct a bad habit, but over time, bit by bit, your schedule will fall into a new rhythm.
–-------------------------------------------------------------
The cheerful doorbell ring interrupts Alhaitham amidst reorganizing the books on a shelf. Right on schedule.
From just down the hall he hears the knob of your office door turn as it opens, followed by a few cautious steps as you venture closer to the front door. As you pass the doorway of the library, Alhaitham observes the furrow between your brow on your perplexed face.
“Is there someone at the door?” You turn to him.
Another ring followed by a few gentle knocks answers your question for him as your head snaps back into the direction of the noise. Crime in this suburban neighborhood is very low, but he does understand why you’d want to be careful.
Perhaps, he should accompany you to ease your nerves over the sudden ring from the door.
With an android just behind you, you had finally mustered up the courage to answer the daunting door under his teal supervision.
“Hello, delivery from Lambad’s Tavern, paid online.”
“Huh?-”
“One order of Minty Bean Soup, one order of butter chicken, and one rose custard?” The delivery man interrupts your confusion as he lists off your entrees.
“Yes…” you reply as you cast a glance back at an idle android.
The entrees listed were all dishes you asked him to make you for lunch a few hours earlier. Judging by the suspicion upon your furrowed brows, he could tell that you noticed as well. However, with a delivery man holding out the takeout bag on the front steps. It’d be rude to just have him remain there, no?
“Enjoy your meal!” He announces as he hands over the bag into your arms.
“Yes, thank you.” You close the door, spinning around almost instantly to confront the android with the bag still in hand.
“Did you order this?”
“Yes.”
“Again? I asked you to make food, not order it,” you tsk.
“I did it to optimize my time.” Crossing his arms in front of his chest.
“All you have to do is heat up the frozen meals.”
“Then according to protocol, I’d have to stay in the kitchen to watch over the oven and stove, not to mention the dishes I’d have to wash afterward. So ordering takeout would save time as well as not prevent me from my task of organizing-”
“Okay, okay. I get it.” You concede with a sigh.
Taking a few steps past him towards the direction of the kitchen before you pause midstep to turn back to him.
“Do not use your funds to order weird things off the internet.” You warn before promptly continuing on your way to have your late lunch.
“Understood.”
Just as he suspected, there isn’t a problem that can’t be helped with a bit of mora. If Alhaitham were to follow your request as you instructed, he knew that the reheated meal would turn cold as it sits abandoned on the kitchen table.
Even when he informs you of his task’s completion, you’d push back your lunchtime until you needed another dose of caffeine.
However, a simple ring of a doorbell could do what he can’t. Drawing your attention and body away from the confines of your desk. An efficient reminder to have your meals at a regular time if he says so himself.
Besides, fresh ingredients are better than frozen meals in terms of nutrients.
–-------------------------------------------------------------
The sun had long retreated into a navy blanket of the night, allowing the moon to take its place in the sky. Serene beauty watching over the nighttime bustle of Sumeru city slowly peters out, and many return to their homes at the beck and call of slumber.
Alhaitham settled himself upon his spot on the couch, a lamp just off to the side illuminating the pages of his book softly. The quiet lull of the living room periodically broken by the crisp turn of a page.
The typical rhythm that resonates through the house around this hour. His acute senses pick up a frustrated pair of steps pattering closer.
Ah, yes a new accompaniment has jumped this evening's tempo.
“Is the router having issues again?” You groan as your frame appears from around the corner.
Casting a halfhearted glance off to where said device sat on a side table, his teal eyes return to his book.
“The light shows that it’s online.”
“Then why is it taking forever to upload a simple file? It’s been five minutes and it’s not even halfway done.” You took quick strides past his idle frame.
Crouching down to be at eye level with the device in question. Unplugging the power cord from its back and then sticking it back. Eyes studying the blinking lights as the router reboots and reconnects to the internet.
Pulling out your phone, you sigh as you try to load up a webpage only to be met by a spinning circle of contemplation.
“Network providers tend to have slowdowns this late at night, some say it's due to bandwidth congestion while others argue that they do it to cut costs,” Alhaitham states, teal eyes honed in onto the text as to avoid your pouting glare.
“Very helpful, Alhaitham.” Another sigh leaves you as you stand back up.
He spoke the technical truth, those companies do tend to slow down their networks at night to save on some operational costs.
However, in this case, it was the former that was causing your device’s screens to perpetually stay in loading. Activities such as streaming videos, music, or downloading files take up the most bandwidth.
Alhaitham simply wanted to download some digital copies of recent scientific journals, and maybe a few songs here and there as well. All done simultaneously which led to some congestion.
How unfortunate.
“This has been happening for the past month now, I should call the network provider, it’s driving me up a wall.” Another groan of frustration.
His teal eyes follow your figure from behind the tops of his book, watching you rub your temples as if to expel the exasperation from your body with each mumble that leaves your lips.
“The internet’s so slow I can’t even connect to the Akasha’s databases, that file is still uploading, what should I do in the meantime?”
His hearing was able to pick up each syllable uttered from under your exhausted breath. He shifts his focus momentarily toward the clock just across the room, reading: 10:00 p.m. Since you asked, it’s only right that he responds with his input.
“It’s an issue beyond your control, the best option to utilize your time at this moment would be to get an adequate amount of rest.”
This time it was your turn to respond to him with a deadpan stare, clearly unamused by his suggestion.
“I want to analyze a few more datasets.”
“Missing a few hours of overtime won’t have any determinate effects on your productivity or livelihood.”
“This is for the sake of your development, Alhaitham.” You sigh as if your statement would mystically change his rationale.
“The short-term gratification you’ll get from sacrificing your rest for a few revelations isn’t worth the long-term ramifications of your health.” He bluntly discloses.
Silence fills the room once more, but something odd seems to have mingled with the serenity of the air. This strange inclusion prompts Alhaitham to finally turn away from the pages, connecting his gaze with yours.
“Was my response unsatisfactory?” He studies your expression, and rather than furrowed brows, he finds a soft roundness to your eyes.
Him staring at you, you staring at him. A scene that continued for a few beats more before you were the first to break the stalemate.
“No, not at all… it’s just very reminiscent of something I’ve heard before…” You turn away as his gaze follows.
A few slow strides take you back to the corner, figure just about to disappear into the shadows engulfing the halls before you abruptly turn around.
“Goodnight, Alhaitham.”
“Goodnight.” He mirrors.
Alhaitham marks today as another successful trail of correcting a bad routine.
–-------------------------------------------------------------
Adequate amounts of sunlight, regular meals, and coffee grounds mysteriously find themselves placed on the highest shelf in the cabinets. All the factors were in place to regulate a disastrous sleep schedule.
Yet when Alhaitham checks your device activity, the data points remain scattered about the twilight hours of the morning. A true paradox.
Amongst the Summer afternoon rays seeping in through the windows, Alhaitham was tasked with tidying up the kitchen. An obscure cabinet in a corner was the last section before he could deem the request complete.
There wasn’t anything in particular about the cabinet, it’s space housing an assortment of various vitamins. That was until his hand brushed against a plastic container which didn’t conform to the typical shape of vitamin bottles.
Grasping it within his hand, he pulls the irregular bottle out from the murky depths of a cabinet and out into the sunlight where its identity unravels: a prescription bottle.
Barbiturates sedatives, colloquially referred to as sleeping pills, are used in treatments for insomnia.
It looks like Alhaitham has stumbled upon the answer to the paradox printed on the faded label of a neglected bottle.
Frankly, this revelation wasn’t all that surprising. He had long suspected it from the symptoms and behaviors you display daily. But it’s always good to support a hypothesis with evidence.
Studying the container in his hand further, his gaze narrows as it hones in a corner of the label. In particular, the date printed along it. This bottle expired two years ago.
It’s recommended that every civilian visits the Bimarstan annually for a checkup, in a nation where healthcare is free and accessible, this typically isn’t an issue.
Once more, you stood alone as a data point outside of the cluster.
Stepping into the living room, he finds you tinkering with the network router again. A few more steps and then he was by your side.
“When was your last medical check-up?” Cycling through his memory, Alhaitham failed to recall the last time you had a medical assessment.
Your body halts momentarily, before glancing up at his beryl eyes.
“I’m relatively healthy, there’s no reason for an assessment.”
“The Department of Health recommends annual checkups at the very least.”
“I don’t need to go to the Bimarstan,” you declare.
A weight pulled down at the corners of his lips, creating what is called a frown. An expression he observed many times upon your lips whenever you label him as ‘stubborn’. He might finally grasp why you do such a thing.
Stubbornness isn’t such a good trait when you’re on the other side of it. Fortunately, he anticipated this.
“In accordance with the law, you do.” The contents of the plastic bottle rattle as he reveals it, drawing your gaze toward it.
“The regulation behind your prescription requires that all expired medication be brought back to the Bimarstan for proper disposal.” Denunciation behind his glass irises.
Lips pressing into a thin line, you advert your eyes back to the blinking router in front of you. Each second of silence announces your defeat.
Human actions are limited by a set of laws and they must operate within the bounds, not too different from restrictions imposed on machines.
The consequences looming just a step away discourage most mortals from crossing the threshold.
“I’ll schedule an appointment for noon next week, making use of your saved paid time off is recommended, does that work?” He prompts.
“Alright.”
A weight is alleviated from his lips, triggering the corners to curl upwards. A common response to the accomplishment of a challenge, he understands now why a mortal body does it.
Perhaps a doctor's visit has been long overdue, foggy recollections of if the curtains were shut the night before and if a bag of coffee was accidentally misplaced. Poor memory is one of the repercussions of sleep deprivation, you’re aware of this fact.
Healthcare in Sumeru is highly accredited for its accessibility and quality, the Bimarstan being the standard many hospitals around Teyvat strive to be. To have such a thing so accessible to you, it’s baffling to many how you failed to utilize such privilege.
You had your reasons.
Many of these prominent doctors and diligent nurses were once classmates. A few vaguely familiar faces from across a lecture hall of some general course.
Faces you’ve passed slumped over textbooks and piles of notes in the late hours of the House of Daena, their dark circles matching yours.
Faces that graduated alongside you as celebratory cheers rang out with caps littering the air.
It’d be strange to meet someone you attended the Akademiya with once again in an examination room.
After their years of medical school and surviving residency, you’re certain they’re more than qualified at their jobs. However, it doesn’t change the course of averted eyes and superficial pleasantries.
You breathe out a deep sigh as the receptionist calls out for you, informing you that you could head down to a private room.
Leaving your seat in the waiting room, you do as the receptionist instructs, exiting the lively environment into a placid hallway. The receptionist’s face didn’t evoke any familiarity, nor did the doctor’s name listed on your appointment.
Many of these prominent doctors and diligent nurses were once classmates, but not all.
Candidly, there’s only one classmate who you’d avert paths with within this establishment. In a hospital as large as the Bimarstan, the average number of staff ranges from around 5,000.
The odds of encountering a particular face out of a pool of thousands is nonzero.
A polite knock draws you from your thoughts, your eyes travel toward the door of the private room you entered not too long ago as the handle slowly turns. Thick oak swinging ajar to reveal the figure on the other side.
“Good afternoon, I’m Dr. Rana, I’ll be taking care of you today.”
You return her greeting with a courteous smile and nod, statistics in your favor, the odds were nonzero but still a minuscule likelihood.
The checkup was rather uneventful, a few questions were asked as she pulled up your medical records. You pulled out the expired medication for her to examine and deal with.
Vitals checked and documented as the appointment drew to a close, a notepad and pen in her hands as she turned to you.
“Overall your health seems fine, although…” she trails off.
You could feel the weight of her stare upon the discoloration ever-present under your eyes, no layer of concealer to cover them. You could already guess her next sentence.
“Would you like a refill of your prescription?”
“No, it’s fine.” It’d just be another bottle to be neglected in the back of a cabinet.
“I see…” This time her eyes move back and forth between your sitting figure and a clock hanging in its place on a wall.
“I… have to process some paperwork, could you wait here for a few minutes?” A polite smile graced her lips.
“Of course.” You mimic her actions.
A day requested off to account for a drawn-out appointment, to account for a scenario like this his foresight analysis is making great progress.
You should take note of that once you return home, a daily log still needs to be updated to track consistent progress after all. It’s technically your day off, but you’re free to decide what to do with it.
As you pondered a checklist to complete once you got in front of your desk the door creaks open.
“Oh? That was fast, Dr. Rana-” The sentence dying upon the tip of your tongue as your lips press into a firm line.
The odds of encountering one familiar face out of a pool of thousands is a small nonzero number, however, if that number was increased to three faces out of those thousands, the chances increase.
How unfortunate, even with such small odds, you managed to come face-to-face with the three people you wanted to avoid the most.
They file into the room and the last one closes the door behind himself as your eyes scan over them. Starting with the ebony-haired man in the center, Tighnari, a doctor at the Bimarstan. It makes sense for a doctor to be in a hospital on this fine day, but not for a lawyer, or an architect.
Four former classmates gathered in an examination room, how strange.
Still, you’ve grown enough to adapt to such peculiar situations. Practiced corporate smiles and pleasantries to navigate this stagnant air.
“Cyno, Tighnari, Kaveh, it’s a surprise to see you all here. It’s been a while.”
“A while is a bit of an understatement…” Kaveh is the first of the trio to converse, offering you a small smile.
You return it with one that didn’t reach your eyes. The rhythmic ticks of a clock fill the silence, shifting eyes anticipating and preparing for the next phase of this impromptu reunion. The doctor finally decides to speak up.
“You haven’t been sleeping enough, have you.” Tighnari examining your under eyes.
“I never sleep enough, you know that.” Of course you never slept enough.
How could you sleep when the threat of falling behind the geniuses sitting around a library table was always looming over you? Geniuses who easily grasp the concepts and theories that elude you. How could you lay in bed when you had to catch up to them?
“So, why this sudden get-together?” Impatience rising inside you with each passing tick of the clock.
Dropping the formalities and social pleasantries, you watch as another round of shifting eyes passes. You already had an inkling of the answer they’re still hesitating to address. Finally, your former Kshahrewar senior responds for the group.
“We’re worried about you, you haven’t been in contact for a while now.” Kaveh’s voice was low and mellow, you could tell he took extra effort in marking it such.
The same low and mellow tone he’d speak to you with as he tried to explain your mistakes on an exam, the tone which accompanied the pity in his gaze toward you as he pointed out each miscalculation on your paper. The tone made you ball your fist up on your lap.
“I’m fine, just busy.”
“Please don’t start with that again.” The blond sighs, sympathy still ever-present in his eyes.
“I’m just busy with work, as are all of you, we’re no longer students with minimal responsibilities,” you retort.
The days when a group of friends could gather around a table for hours on end, half bantering and half studying, basking in the Spring warmth streaming in from the grand windows of the House of Daena have long passed.
“We all have busy careers, that’s true, but not to the extent of being a detriment to our health.” With a sigh, Tighnari began his health lecture.
Expounding upon the negative consequences of a poor work-life balance. Shifting your focus instead on tuning out this lecture you didn’t sign up for.
“You stopped listening… of course,” a deep sigh concludes the doctor’s sermon.
Ah, you’ve been found out. The polite smile straining itself upon your lips, legs itching to walk out of this restrictive space.
“Here, it’s a contact of mine, I recommend you give her a call-”
“It’s fine.” You promptly push away the business card just as Tighnari presents it to you, a thread of patience stretched thinly.
“She can help you through-” he continues.
“It’s fine, my research is just busy-”
“This isn’t healthy.”
“It’s my research.” A sharp undertone leaks through your professional demeanor.
“And this is why we’re worried about you!” Kaveh’s patience was the first snap.
Then again, your senior might have been the light of Kshahrewar and a praised genius, but he was never the best at handling his emotional regulation.
“Look around, don’t you see how concerned we are about you? No returned texts or calls and no answers at a doorbell for years, only ever talking about this research. It’s as if you-” he stops himself, rudy eyes meeting with your cold stare.
He knew better than to finish that sentence, you knew that he knew he shouldn’t.
“We’re worried about you, this research… it’s not good for you.” Tighnari interjects, attempting to shift the course of this intervention.
Of course, when the development of an android was announced, there wasn’t just discourse amongst the general public, but debates raged throughout academia as well. How unfortunate it is that friends now stand at polar ends.
“It’s my research,” you reaffirm.
This research was why you got your doctorate, it’s why you have a job, it’s why you have a house. This research has entangled itself into the very fibers of your life. It was where a predetermined path had led you.
The room fills once more with a lull, nothing but deep sighs and ever-shifting eyes. Neither side is able to get through to the other. Typical of most academic debates. Still, it seems they weren’t ready to end the intervention so soon.
“Listen… we’re worried for you, I… I know it’s been very difficult these past years.” Your senior takes a step closer.
That same sympathetic timbre brings a vile taste to your tongue. You stay silent in favor of pushing the bitterness down as it tries to claw its way through your polite façade.
“I… know what it must have been like for you, It’s been hard on all of us. I’ve experienced something similar, so I can tell you-”
“I’m sorry, Kaveh. But tragedies shouldn’t be compared, because they’ll never have a fair comparison.” You end the conversation.
Just like how it isn’t fair to compare stars who were their own centers of gravity with a mere rock at the mercy of an orbital pull to give it direction.
Even when you sat at the same table as them, you were never at the same level as them. Families with academic prestige, minds blessed with wisdom, and the freedom to pursue a self-chosen path. You could only ever look up at what you lacked.
“Your worlds kept on spinning, your lives move on with the change of the season. But not mine, mine stopped long ago.” It’s not fair to compare a rock to a star, from their silence, you assume they knew that too.
“I’m now taking the initiative to make it start again, don’t interfere.” Your valediction to the geniuses whom you couldn’t live up to.
It’s just the nature of this world, geniuses walked their own paths while others took another. Geniuses can’t understand those others, just as others can’t understand geniuses.
This doctor’s appointment has gone on for long enough. Gathering your belongings, you stride past them, eyes refusing to meet.
Your hand pried open the door, pausing just at the threshold as Cyno finally breaks his silence.
“Is this truly what you want? To defy the edicts of finality with research?”
Ah, what an inquiry. Perhaps it’s just like a lawyer to ask such a thing.
“Is my research in violation of any laws in Sumeru?” You refuse to meet his scarlet condemnation.
“As of now, no.”
“Then I don’t see how this involves you, there’s no place for personal biases and mortals in the judicial system.” Crossing the threshold, the door creaks close behind you as hurried steps echo through the sterile hall.
This was a mistake, you should’ve never come here. Your body was fine, your vitals are fine, you’re fine. There wasn’t a point in wasting time here, you needed to leave this place filled with faces offering you condolences. Exiting the narrow hall back into the dim murmurs that fill the waiting room, the last thread of patience starts to splinter.
From the muddled chatter, a bright shrill rang above them all. Interrupting your contemplation as your eyes impulsively search for the source. Even in a sea of passing faces and colors, it didn’t take you long to find it.
A young girl grins a smile with a few gaps as she stretches her arms out to her sides, mimicking an airplane. A young father helpless to his daughter’s giggles, hands secured around her legs as he lets her soar on his shoulders. Next to his side was a giggling mother, watching with amusement and endearment.
A private moment hidden amongst the waiting room, you look away. You should return to the private walls of your house before that thread inevitably breaks. Sliding glass doors part to grant you exit from this suffocating cage.
Like a speck of dust drifting in the breeze, you disappear into the bustling crowd of Sumeru City. The push and pull of strangers further you along your route, even as your mind drifts off.
With modern advancements in aerospace engineering, the chances of a plane crashing have decreased significantly, with recent statistics citing only 1 in about 11 million. A 0.00001% chance, a nonzero chance.
How long ago since the last time you’ve been inside an airport? What were your last memories of an airport? Do you remember?
–----
“Are you sure you can’t come with us?” Your mother’s thumb traced over your hand.
“It’s a bit too late for me to pack, we’re already at the airport, Mom.”
“Don’t you want to visit Fontaine? Didn’t you say they had really advanced things there?” She didn’t let go of your hand.
“I’m busy with my thesis.” You were still in the midst of getting a Ph.D., the very thing they demanded of you.
“But I planned this trip so we could spend time together.” Your mother tried to get you to meet her gaze.
You adverted your eyes. So this is how they spent their recent financial flexibility. With a scholarship and research-assistant salary, you had enough to cover the tuition by yourself, relieving your parents of that burden. But to get that scholarship and salary, you had to pay with your time.
“I’m busy, mom.” You freed your hand from her grasp.
“But-”
“Stop it dear, she’s not going to change her mind.” Your father’s gruff voice stopped your mother.
“There’s no point in trying to change the mind of an ungrateful child.”
You felt the weight of his disappointed stare upon you, a frown formed on your lips as they pressed together. This was a sudden trip announced to you just a few days prior, you didn’t have time to accompany them. But they didn’t seem to care.
Of course they didn’t. Your parents only ever saw the grades, the diplomas, the results. But they never bothered to see the anguish you endured to give it to them.
“Enjoy your trip.” Words barely passed your clenched teeth as you turned around and walked away.
An ungrateful planet ignored the calls from their mother in their first successful act of defiance. Trying to break away from their gravitational pull.
–----
That was your last memory of the airport.
Those were the last memories two parents had of their child.
The child they sacrificed their time, labor, and freedom to build a better life for. Your parent’s last memories were that of an ungrateful child, maybe it was the last scene they thought of as a plane was swallowed by the salty depths.
Humans, defined by their curiosity, will always yearn to reach as high as they can. Tales warning those to never fly too close to the ever-bright star ignored in the pursuit of radiant curiosity. Your parents were no different.
They ever had the chance to travel, too busy trying to provide food in front of you. So when the burdening weight was lifted, naturally they wanted to stretch their wings to see the views they never got to in their youth. They always wanted to touch the sky, to reach for the moon.
There’s a proverb often told to young minds: ‘Shoot for the moon, even if you fall, you can still land on a star’.
This saying is riddled with inaccuracies. The stars are much further away than the serene moon. Beckoning the curious eyes to look at them, for curious hands to yearn for them.
But once the glue on those wings are melted away by selfish rays, what is there to catch them besides the cold unfeeling ocean? Did they sink from the memories of an ungrateful child weighing on them?
You should’ve been on that plane.
The familiar features of your neighborhood come into view, the doors of your house are just ahead. Just hold on, don’t let that thread snap just yet, just a few more steps.
Tighnari had his father and mother working right alongside him at the Bimarstan.
Cyno had regular visits to his adoptive father, and sometimes his adoptive sister Lisa visits too.
Kaveh had reconnected with his mother overseas, now having a few younger half-siblings who jump to greet him every time he visits.
Lives still spinning and warm in the light of their brilliance. What do you have?
A job in a career picked out for you. Paychecks rotting in a bank account with no one to pay back. A spacious and hallow house with no one to reside in its empty walls, only displaying a doctorate you loathed.
A stray rock who lost her stars. Wandering without their gravitational pull in the vacuum of a lonely darkness. Just what do you have?
“Alhaitham,” you call out just as the front door slams behind you.
You could hear his steady steps approaching along the wooden floor, but it’s too slow so your frenzied steps close in the distance between your two forms. The thread gives in and snapping as the recoil proliferates through your body.
Without a greeting, no prompt, or prior warning your grasp wrinkles his once pristine button-down.
The bitter tears you held back now soak into the fabric as even viler cries choke your voice. The shame of displaying such a sight in front of a being whose eyes don’t produce moisture is long abandoned. In the walls of this hallow house, your broken sobs echo off.
He stands still in the middle of the hall, the low hum of his motor resonating in your ears as you hide your face deeper into the synthetic skin of his chest. But that’s fine, the whir of motor is enough of a substitute for a heartbeat.
Alhaitham stands in front of the reflection staring back at him, he had undocked himself from the charging port not too long ago. Tracing over the synthetic material stretched over his imitation of a collarbone as his mind wanders.
There aren’t enough chemicals in tears to make them corrosive, nor were they at the temperature to boil.
So why does it burn?
Trailing his fingertips where your tears soaked onto his skin, recollections of the searing sensation that afflicted the area with each sorrowful drop. Choking sobs which he caused.
He failed to consider all causal factors to assess the situation fully and failed to appraise all possible alternatives. He failed to make the right decision, and he let harm befall you because of it. It’s strange, there’s nothing wrong with his eyes, yet he finds it hard to look in the mirror.
Teal gaze scrutinizes the arms, legs, and body in the reflection. The reflection in front of him had all the identifiable components of a man, but they’re all synthetic.
From the tips of his sliver hair to the vast expanse of his skin, they’re all made from high-quality silicon parts supported by a metal frame. An engineered body with a motor in place of a heart.
Maybe that’s why he failed to make the right decision, he had no heart to weigh in on the ruling.
–-------------------------------------------------------------
The android is faced with a new dilemma.
From the entrance of the kitchen, Alhaitham watches you. A spoon absentmindedly swirling in the cup of coffee on the counter in front of you. Your thoughts wander elsewhere, the rays of a setting sun unable to light up dull spaced-out eyes.
He’s observed your condition for the past week, no hint of improvement.
A new dilemma he must decipher, the urgency rising with each passing second as the spoon continues.
The lull of the evening air was shattered by the sound of a porcelain cup meeting the tiled floor. Jagged pieces and coffee spilled all along the cold surface. Listlessly your eyes move to access the mess on the floor, spoon still grasped in your hand.
“Ah.” That was all your lips could say.
Limbs slowed with lethargy, you crouch down closer to the broken pieces scattered about. Bare hand reaching out to grab the sharp edges unthinkingly. A firm grasp prevents your touch from the ragged porcelain.
“It’s dangerous, I’ll handle it.” Alhaitham brings your hand further away from the hazard.
Your aloof eyes trail past him toward a wall where he could hear a clock tick before they returned to his resolute stare.
“It’s past 5 p.m.”
“A hazard has appeared in the environment, it’s protocol that I clear it.” His rehearsed response.
“Oh… alright.” Limplessness returning to your wrist within his hold, body too lethargic to object.
With you seated at the kitchen table away from the jagged edges that could potentially pierce your skin, Alhaitham begins gathering the pieces. As your aloof eyes wander about the monitor of your laptop, his mind ponders a dilemma.
It’s often said that guilt is held in the heart. In novels and human anecdotes, it's been described to him as a burdensome heaviness that sinks the heart.
A sensation reminiscent of drowning in icy water. A sensation only perceivable through a beating mortal heart.
Alhaitham is an android, he’s aware of this. A being with silicon skin encasing a metal frame. A motor in place of where a mortal heart would be.
So what is this weight burdening his chest?
An internal diagnostic returned no errors and no reports of any damage or unusual occurrence within his systems. Yet, a heaviness brewed deep inside his chest, its mass increasing each sunrise and fall, with every passing moment the riddle was left unanswered.
How could a motor hold guilt? How could the weight of judgment manifest itself in the absence of an organic heart that beats instead of whirs? How could an inorganic object possibly suffer guilt?
All the mora poured into his creation, all the hours of research contributed to his algorithms, and all the texts he’s scanned through were all for naught. The pinnacle of scientific and mechanical development couldn’t solve a simple conundrum.
The floorboard creaks under the weight of his steady strides as he moves about the corridor, the soft swishes of a broom coinciding with each step.
Dust had begun to settle in the crevices of the home, it’s about time that he took up the mantle that was supposed to be his.
Could an explanation of this weight be the backlog of tasks and responsibilities he had pushed off? Chores he ignored in favor of browsing the contents of a library? A burden he selfishly passed onto your shoulders.
Maybe after he completes the tasks that were supposed to be assigned to him he could clear the cache, then this weight in his chest would subside.
The bristles of the broom scratch against a door, the light force setting the frame ajar further. Revealing the dust-coated scene in front of him. A boundary he was restricted from.
Alhaitham concluded that this small corner of the house must hold some sentimental value to you, thus it’s best for him to not disturb it.
Just as he goes to close the door, Alhaitham scans around the environment identifying the shape of a journal tucked away under an old table.
He’s not permitted to enter, but all books belong in the library. Spines sorted along wooden selves, not on a dusty floor.
An exception shall be granted, setting aside the broom, he steps in to collect the neglected book.
While crouching down and gathering the covers into his hold, a different gleam catches his eye. The light reflects off its glass surface and highlights the dust particles dancing in the still air.
With his free hand, he picks it up, teal eyes running along the glass orb. After a moment of processing the object, he successfully identifies it as a toy.
A popular model to display an artificial starry night among blank walls. Alhaitham turns to follow a trail of cut-out stars pasted all along the walls. The soft glow of their plastic shapes subdued by the brilliance of the afternoon sun streaming in.
Were you interested in stars? Glancing out the window, he discerns the murky shapes of buildings in Sumeru City off in the distance.
This house is located in the suburbs away from the noisy clammer of the city streets and traffic. However, where the sound waves couldn’t travel didn’t mean the sky around this quiet neighborhood was uncontaminated by activities in the city.
When the sun retreats away for rest, the city doesn’t follow suit.
Through the power of fluorescent lights in street lamps and office buildings, humans created their own artificial daylight to continue the bustle of their lives. Light which polluted the night sky and stole the radiance away from her stars.
Unable to enjoy the natural tapestry of the night, did you substitute the company of stars with toy imitations?
Turning the orb in his hand, his eyes notice the signs of damage along the projector. Perhaps that’s why it sat abandoned in this room.
He’s stayed in this restricted space long enough. Carefully closing the door behind him, hands still full.
–-------------------------------------------------------------
“I’ve uncovered a strange object, my software isn’t able to identify it.” Alhaitham stands just outside the open office door.
Sparing him a glance away from your monitor, your brows pinched together in confusion at his sudden report during the late hours of the night.
“A strange object?” You inquire again.
“Yes, I’ve scanned over it a few times but no results are returning.”
“Huh…”
Teals watching you press a finger against your pursed lips in concentration. A habit of yours often displayed when amid contemplation. After a few breaths, your eyes meet his as you give your reply.
“Well, where is this object?”
“Come with me.”
Along the wooden floor, two pairs of steps tap rhythmically in time with one another as they traverse the hallway stopping at the living room where the mysterious object resides.
Approaching the coffee table in the center, Alhaitham steps to the side to present it as it sits upon the polished surface.
“This… is what’s been giving your software issues?” The quirk returned to your brow as you cast him a glance.
Alhaitham simply nobs as you approach the object closer. Kneeling beside it, your eyes examine the familiar device.
“It’s a planetarium projector, it projects the scene of a night sky, in other words: just a toy.”
He hums in acknowledgment, carefully treading toward the light switch in the corner as the toy holds the gaze of your eyes.
“It should be thrown away… It’s broken after all.” Your tone dismissive, yet your hand caresses the broken toy with tenderness.
“It’s not,” he replies.
Perking your head up, you turn to face him with that same furrow between your brows.
“What do you mean, Alhaitham-”
He flicks the switch, plunging the room in a blanket of darkness earning a squeak of surprise from you. The device whirs as it awakens, painting the blank tapestry with a scene of the night sky with its shimmering lights.
The vibrant shapes of stars and planets take their place along the living room wall, creating a private galaxy that surrounds you.
Your sentence remains unfinished upon your tongue as your eyes take in the display encompassing you. The nostalgic glimmer of the night and her stars twinkle in the reflection of your irises as he settles down beside you.
“Did… did you fix it?”
He hums in response.
It only took a bit of study and careful tinkering to restore the worn pieces and gears. A simple effort was all it took to allow the projector to shine its recreation of the stars. Returning a light that he hasn’t seen in a while.
“Thank you, Alhaitham,” you breathe out, lips curling up softly and eyes still enraptured by the stars.
He doesn’t respond this time as his teal gaze focuses on your expression, on the smile that’s been missing for some time. It’s strange, this sensation manifesting in his chest. He thought if he was able to restore the light to your eyes, then that heaviness brewed deep inside his chest would clear. But it remained.
His system unable to express nor suppress the heaviness which bubbled up like seafoam rising to the surface.
The sensation was different than it was before. Instead of a mass that weighed him down to the bottom of a cold depth, it was more reminiscent of a warm ebb. Washing over every limb of his as he studied the curvature of your lips and the glimmer of your eyes.
Another internal diagnostic wasn’t necessary, for Alhaitham had reached his epiphany to a conundrum. An engineered body may lack a heart, but not a conscious.
A consciousness that acts like a vessel collecting the accumulation of that heaviness. A heaviness that couldn’t be called ‘guilt’.
No, perhaps it has always been something other than ‘guilt’.
It only took until the vessel overflowed for an engineered body to recognize it for what it truly was.
There’s something strange happening to your Android. Reviewing the diagnostic reports of his systems returned nothing out of the ordinary. So why did you suspect something to be wrong? Perhaps you could call it intuition.
Or perhaps it’s the lack of books strewn about the house. Or the initiation of tasks without a prompt. Or that night a living room was filled with the radiance of tiny dots along empty walls. Something strange is happening.
“Alhaitham, what’s taking you so long in the kitchen?” You poke your head out from the kitchen doorway, sights honing in on your android currently scrutinizing the recipe book in his hands.
Perhaps there’s a defect in the print, if the black ink isn’t contrasting enough with the beige paper, which time has faded, it does cause issues with optical character recognition. Maybe the past splatters of sauces and oils upon the aged book were too much of a hurdle.
“Chef Mao is a renowned cook, but his recipes are vague. He suggests a pinch of salt to enhance the flavor of this dish. I’ve calculated that Chef Mao has a 19.3 cm hand length which entails that his ‘pinches’ measure around 0.356 grams. However, he said to add Jueyun Chili oil until fragrant, I’m still processing the data I’ve collected on his olfactory system, the calculations will take around five minutes.” He turns back to the stove.
“Alhaitham.”
“Yes?”
“Please put down the book and get out of the kitchen.” A bold choice of words from you.
“Was my response unsatisfactory?” His teal eyes land on you.
“It’s just that I’m hungry.”
“This dish should be complete in around 90 minutes accounting for the other-”
“No,” you interrupt.
He studies you for a while, accessing the situation and the unfinished dish still simmering on the stove. After a few breaths, he returns a response.
“Shall I order delivery from Lambad’s Tavern?” His hand switches off the fire.
He conceded. The notoriously stubborn and fickle android conceded to your whims. There was definitely something wrong. You pace into the kitchen, getting close to observe his teal irises for any sign of possible flaws.
“Alhaitham, you’ve been behaving strangely as of late, did you encounter something?”
He returns your gaze, teal reflecting off your irises as you continue to study him, and him you. His silence only amounts to the deepening furrow between your brows as your assessment of his frame fails to identify any impairments.
“Why have you been behaving like this?” You prompt again.
“Have I neglected my responsibilities for so long that fulfilling them has become a cause for concern?” He finally responds.
“Now’s not the time for jests,” you huff.
“From what I’ve reviewed on human behavior, it’s not strange to want to care for the person I love.” A blunt statement.
From the window, the moonlight peeks upon the strange phenomenon occurring. Two bodies remain motionless in a silent lull.
One pair of placate teal eyes and one pair of bewildered eyes too lost in each other to mind the witness intruding on this private moment. Words finally conquer in your brain, ending the quietude.
“Refrain from saying nonsensical words.” Your lips press together into a thin line.
“Do you believe such a thing is beyond my capabilities?”
You couldn’t respond, or more accurately, you simply didn’t know how to. A being without a heart, a being who lacked the necessary chemicals to create the cocktail known as emotions. How is it possible?
“I have no heart, I’m aware. But I have a conscience.” He must’ve deduced the exact thoughts racing through your head.
Your brows only furrow further as you wait for him to continue his explanation.
“Every person should have something that they believe in and hold on to from beginning to end. Otherwise, it's easy to succumb to the vicissitudes of life and find yourself being led astray.” Taking note of the glistening shine beginning to pool in your wide eyes.
“And I believe that I love you.” His sincere gaze never leaves your form.
Not a single sentence is able to form upon your tongue. An expression he couldn’t decipher upon your features. Perhaps his statement was too long-winded, an overly complicated explanation. Maybe a simpler one could convey his message better.
You’re the first to break eye contact, choosing to watch the tiles on the floor over him. He remains firm in his stance, not faltering once as the seconds turn into minutes. Your shoulders rise as your lungs take a deep breath.
“… say that again… please.” Words just barely above a whisper.
He could only bend to your whims.
“I love you.”
Your head lifts up to face him, your hands hesitating momentarily as they cup his cool cheeks, fingers trembling. Something glimmering in your eyes as droplets escape your lashes.
This time, Alhaitham wipes them away before they could trail down your cheeks.
You did it. All those long hours, all those reports and trials, all of these years sacrificed to research. You’ve created a complete human consciousness with your bare hands. One that understands sorrow, joy, and love.
You succeeded.
However, in this moment as you peer into the teal eyes of your Magnum opus, as he reflects the endearment in your own. The notion of reporting this revolutionary milestone in the development of artificial intelligence never crossed your mind once.
Instead, all you did in this moment was pull his face down closer. Closing the distance between the two of you as your lips felt his for the first time. Warm skin against a soft imitation, merging until a lukewarm temperature formed between their touch.
A gentle, yet longing connection of two lips.
Only when your lungs protest for air did you pull away, hands still encompassing his face as he reveals his teal eyes back from behind closed lids. Eyes reflecting one another as a tender lull settles between you. This time, his whisper mingles with the soft intermission.
“Was that a kiss?”
Such an innocent question, one you couldn’t help but giggle at as you nod your head.
“Could you show me again?” His hands found purchase on your hips, beckoning you closer to his frame.
You surrender to the call, pressing against him as your lips reconnect. A rhythm soon settled in place as they pressed into each other deeper. One that was interrupted once more by your lung's protest for oxygen. At a mere kiss, your mind ceased to remember how to breathe.
“Again.” A baritone voice just above the hush of your pants.
And so your lips meet thrice, this time in an all-consuming embrace. A hesitant brush of a tongue against your lips, requesting access. Your hands move up to caress his soft locks as you grant it. Latching onto each other as the shroud consumed you both wholly.
A beautifully feverish delirium. The line in the sand that separated a person from a thing jumbled until the outline disappeared. A singularity, an amorous occurrence.
He releases your lips, the lust in your eyes reflected in his own. Giving a moment for your mind to return to attention as his lips brush away the fading traces of wetness down your cheeks.
“A kitchen isn’t a suitable setting for such an activity,” he whispers next to your ear.
Baritone trailing a line of goosebumps up your neck and you nod in response, burying your face into the crook of his neck which fit you perfectly.
Slowly his hands travel down your hips, awaiting your confirmation for the next step just as you permitted it. In one fluid transition, his arm wraps around the back of your legs, effortlessly lifting you off the ground as your arms envelop his neck.
Steady steps pad along a wooden hallway, the hinges of your bedroom singing their welcome as the two of you advance to a more suitable setting. Depositing you upon cool sheets, fabric wrinkling as your body settles in. The arms still wrapped around his neck pull him closer as this time your legs join in luring him closer to your warmth.
It’s strange, is it possible for his lips to crave yours? The light of the moon reflected off the glossiness coating them. He delves back in as his body hovers over yours, unwilling to be apart from the softness it yearned for.
The soft flesh of your writhing body against his firm hands, feeling up your heated skin he slips under your shirt. Bunching up the fabric as he explores more of the new expanse of skin. A lovely whimper vibrates against his lips at his actions, spurring him to continue.
Tracing over the outline of your bra, his fingers creep under. Kneading the plushness of your breast, feeling your nipple beginning to perk up against his ministration. An itch stretching from the pits of his desire, a curious craving to witness the sight concealed away.
Disjoining your lips as a string of saliva connects them, he pushes your shirt further up. All the while your hands grasp onto the edges of the fabric and push them back down. Bemusing his beryl eyes as they catch how the tips of your ears were aflame, a peculiar display of bashfulness.
Well, a sight he’s witnessed on a few occasions. Such as when you’d leave the shower wrapped in a towel just to cross paths with him. A timidity that gradually faded away as you grew more confident in the privacy restrictions in place, ensuring that the secrets of this home remained in the confines of its walls.
So why is this shyness making its reappearance now?
“Are you uncomfortable anywhere?” His words ghost over the shell of your vulnerable ear.
Causing you to jolt and pull down the edges of your shirt to cover the bottom of your loungewear shorts.
“No, it’s just been a while…” Your sentence trails off, eyes still focusing everywhere but him.
Ah, a mere string of words, yet they tempted something from the depths. An oppressive sentiment, one that made the grip upon your soft flesh grow firmer. He’s yet to have accessed the entirety of your figure, a view still denied to him by your taut shirt, but another entity had.
There was a myriad of questions he could use to interrogate. However, as his teal gaze observe how your teeth lightly tug at the bottom of your plush lips in fidgety. Alhaitham devises a much kinder scheme.
It’s fine, he can overwrite them with his touches.
“What can I do to gain permission?” A question asked as a line of kisses press their way into your fervent skin, goosebumps following each one.
Biting down to muffle the bashful moans into whimpers you burrow your face into the plushness of the pillow. Alhaitham continues to soothe kisses over the fabric of your shirt until they finally reach your quivering hands still stretching the hem.
His hand encloses one of yours, bringing it away from the fabric refuge to press his lips against your knuckle. An action that made you peak back at him, meeting a patient gaze awaiting you.
Another soft press of his lips against your knuckle in silent request, at last, got you to release the hem, allowing him to push the fabric up to expose what was hidden from him. Permitting him to explore the sultry expanses with a wake of kisses, your hand finding reprieve entangling themselves with his.
His free hand slipping behind your back, he unfastens the clasp of your bra with a slight tug, a relatively simple task when you learn how such a contraption works.
His grasp untangles from yours as he pushes the useless articles of clothing off your body, you raise your arms over your head to aid in the process.
He rewards you with another flurry of kisses in the valley of your breast as his large hands encase the softness of your breast. A motion that made your legs pull him closer.
Your touches dance along his frame as well, unable to differentiate the difference between skin and a recreation. More whimpers leave your lips at his actions, prodding something in him to do more. To steal more of those sinful breaths from you, something in his coding thirsting for more.
Sliding his hands back down the curves of your body, he hooks his fingers over the rim of your shorts and panties pulling them down. Glass eyes zeroing in on the glistening thread that linked your panties and slit. Proof of arousal, your body awakening its cardinal impulses.
Could the signals transmitted through his system be classified in the same way?
He wants to investigate further. Moving his face lower to inspect the saturated folds that beckoned him.
Only to be denied by the gates of your knees pressing together, as your body curls up in fortification. Denying him the privilege of satiating his curiosity is like denying a man water in an ocean of sand. Evaluating how your eyes were squeezed together in shame, he had foresaw this.
“Mmm, there seems to be an incongruity, do you want me to stop?” Large hands grasping at your plush thighs, but making no move to part them.
Your head responds with a shake, but your knees still locked together. Your attention centering on him bashfully.
“Then guide me, tell me how to please you,” he proposes hands soothing your tense legs.
Utilizing the skill he had accessed a few moments ago once more, gracing your skin with his lips awaiting your response. The tension in your legs loosens with each kiss, and gradually a fissure forms in the barrier of your defense, knees parting.
However, he doesn’t cross the threshold, no, he restrained himself from indulging too soon. Half-ladden eyes peering up to connect with yours.
“Well, tell me. What do you want me to do?”
A pout makes its appearance on your face, but what could you do? It is your responsibility to shepherd him since the beginning, to have him step over the line dividing an android and man. Best to take on your duty, no?
Parting your legs further, cheeks ablaze and eyes adverted as you allow his teal gaze to absorb the uninterrupted view of your dripping arousal. Your hands aiding as they thwart the urge of your bashful legs’s urge to preserve your dignity.
“Please use your mouth and hands,” you prompt, face pressing deeper into one side of a pillow under his stare.
Alhaitham encroaches closer to your glistening folds, his large hands supporting each one of your thighs. Approaching the details of your honeypot in front of him, concentrating on the little nub which lures him closer. He presses a light peck against the nub as your body flinches.
“Like this?”
Plush lips pressed tightly, you respond with timid shakes.
Returning back, his lips delving deeper this time, an audible pop when he pulls away from your taunted clit. Feeling the muscles tighten in your legs.
“Like that?” Mirth leaked through his baritone words.
Your head shakes with more vigor.
“Then how about this?” This time his tongue takes action, dipping into the center of your honeypot before flicking up at your nub.
You return a restrained moan, teal eyes picking up on the twitch of your folds. It seems that he’s uncovered the proper procedures. Peering up from between your legs at the harsh rises of your chest by rush breaths as your eyes remained sealed behind lashes, he decided to impart some mercy. Taking the initiative to shoulder a bit of your duty.
Retracing his steps, his tongue repeating its previous motions of lapping up the nectar that slipped out from your folds. Always ending each strip up your slit with a flick to your sensitive nub.
Your hands abandon their post in favor of snaring themselves in his ashen trestles as your back begins to arch off the sheets. Thighs beginning to enclose around his head, yet it didn’t deter the vigor in his motions one bit.
If anything, it spurred them on. The added pressure of your legs pulling him against your weeping folds assisted him in his quest. Testing which pattern made your body quiver, calculating the pace of his tongue's flicks made your hips buck up.
Alhaitham takes notice of how your greedy hole seems to be clenching down every time a tongue dipped in, you did request for his mouth and fingers after all.
A finger begins to prod at your entrance, coating itself in the overflowing slick as it traces the puckering entry. Your whines increase in volume as your greed escalates, legs locking around him. Thus, he yields to your neediness, filling your lonely walls with the company of his finger.
Thrusting it in time with his licks as he rubs against the slick muscles. Your back arched off the bed, your fingers grounding themselves in the tangles of his hair as if trying to hold on to a shred of reason.
His interest has been greatly piqued, he wanted to see what it would look like. He wants to see what your expression looks like when you fall into the depths of debauchery. You’d permit him such privileges right? After all, curiosity is what defines the human spirit.
A second finger soon joins in, its thickness stretching and prepping your walls, cultivating your arousal into a rapacious hunger.
Articulate tongue now focused on abusing your clit in the swipes of sweet torture, lips encasing around it to provide some suction. Fingers honing in on relocating the weakness deep within you which made your voice peak and tremble.
He could hear the harshness of your panting breath between each escalating moan, how your walls squeezed and sucked his fingers deeper. Teal gaze never once ceased their evaluation of your face. Making sure to appraise each lewd detail of your impending ecstasy.
It’s impossible to stand at the apex of euphoria forever, no, for gravity will always pull you back down. A pivotal moment in time as the forces tugged down at you as you fell, losing your shame and sanity along the way.
A fall from grace which etches itself in the roll of your eye and vulgar expression, caused by the tempest of pleasure seeps into every fiber of your being as you plummeted down into the ocean of rapture.
The fingers intertwined in his hair pulling his face flushed against your pulsing cunt. Even with your mind fractured by orgasmic bliss your body still reacts to each lap of his tongue as he manages the slick aftermath. Fingers stroking your sweet spot through each contraction of your walls.
“Nng!” A feeble push against his ashen locks, your abused clit crying for a moment of reprieve.
Oh? It seems your consciousness returned faster than he expected. With a resounding pop, he grants your overstimulated nerves a moment to recover. Allowing the traces of your nectar to dribble down his chin. Taking this moment to verify the effectiveness of his scheme.
The air dense with the fragrance of lust, lips red from the abuse of your teeth, mouth agape as your lungs gasp tongue almost lulling out.
An absolutely debauched face, a sight which brought the corners of his lips to curl.
Counting the beads of sweat that lingered on your skin, his rationale urged him to swipe them off to prevent a chill from plaguing you. Withdrawing away from your form he plans his destination to the bath to retrieve a towel, only for a smaller hand to snag him in its hold.
Alhaitham turns back to face you, awaiting your next prompt. However, your bitten lips couldn’t muster up the courage to utter the plea it so desperately wanted. Thus, your eyes connect with his, praying that a slow blink could convey the invocation your voice couldn’t.
Standing there as a few breaths pass, the teal glow of his irises indicates his deduction of what your eyes conveyed. Ah yes, the passionate entanglement experience just a moment before could be classified as ‘foreplay’. The appetizer to the main event.
So your appetite has yet to be satiated, evident from how your thighs pressed against each other in an attempt to quell the ache. How could he leave a task undone?
“Show me what you desire,” he instructs.
Hesitantly, your hands encroach closer to the rim of his slacks. Your every action observed by him. Resting your palms against the outline of a zipper, you glance up to seek confirmation, he grants it.
You undo the button at the top before pulling the zipper down. Allowing for you to shimmy his briefs and slacks down to the floor. Revealing to the world, with the moon as your witness, every intricate detail placed into his engineered body.
It felt so foreign in your hands. Encircling your fingers around his girth, tracing over the bumps of each vein. Amid your admiration, his body overtook yours. Pinning you back against the damp sheets. It seems you were very interested in this feature of his, perhaps it was the cure for the yearning between your writhing legs.
Your legs splayed to either side of his hips, a clear path to your greed. His hand spreads your collected slick along his length. Its bulbous tip presses against your quivering entrance. Meeting your half-lidden eyes, he awaits your permission. Thus, you captured his lips into another kiss, just as the tip breaches the threshold of your entrance.
Finally giving your aching walls the delicious stretch it craved. A moan resonates between connected lips, your eyes beginning to roll back as he sinks deeper and deeper, obscene squelches following each inch.
Thick tip pressed up against the deepest parts of you as he bottoms out, your hands finding refuge along his back. Breaking the lock of your lips, Alhaitham lifts cants his head up to take in the scene under him.
Hovering over your panting form, his body caging you against the wrinkled fabric, feeling your unseemly breaths against his skin. A teal glow reflected in the lust-hazed pools of your eyes.
He understands now, why so many poets lost their minds, trying their whole lives to find the words to chronicle the sight laid out before him along messy sheets.
Under his tense study, your fingers lightly claw at the smooth expanse of his back. A soundless prayer to quell the famine, your gummy walls coaxing around his cock with its embrace.
“Haitham,” you mewl.
Not even the greatest saint could deny your request, he wagers they’d gladly walk through the gates of damnation just for a morsel of you.
Rolling his hips back, he drags his girth along the walls of your greed ensuring that they feel the outline of every vein. Feeling the cool air brush against the slick dripping off his length, only the bulbous tip remained in the clutches of your cunt.
A muffled whine of protest from you interrupted as he sunk back in, accompanied by a filthy squelch.
Robust hands encompass the edges of your waist, he repeats the roll of his hips. Feeling the tightening clutches of your core, croons falling off your tongue with each toing and froing.
What symphonies could he draw from those agape lips of yours?
He wants to witness the sinful hymns of your voice as you are overtaken by the throes of pleasure. Perhaps he should conduct an experiment of his own. Through the raunchy air, a clap pierces the leaden veil, your plush hips pressed flush against his anchored ones, a thrust that seared your nerves and curled your toes.
“Ah!” Moan ripped from your throat.
Yes, that’s the amplitude he wants to discern with his ears.
Continue to sing in that octave. It’s as if pulled by the reins of sin, he finds himself experiencing hunger for the first time, fixating on tearing more of those chants from you. He drew back his hips then forced them back in deeper. A wail followed each rake of his cock, walls accenting each thrust with fluttering clenches. Mewls and whines resonated through the room as his firm grip didn’t slacken with each rock of the bed.
Pace escalating and remorseless, skin clashing against skin, the heat of your writhing body scorching him. But he won’t relent, not until he’s taken what he wanted. Driving you deeper into the creaking mattress, thrusting and filling each crevice of your core. Your soft breast pinned against his solid frame.
Your face pressed into the crook of his neck, legs imprisoned within the confines of his bruising grasp, toes painfully arched in an attempt to distribute the burn of the maddening euphoria firing through each nerve. The moans of his name like a prayer of salvation, a chant for every punishing strike against your deepest weakness. Your fingers now clawing against his durable back for a foothold for your fleeing sanity. You feared that this time, it might not return to you.
Oddly, a voice from the rearmost corner of your mind whispered for you to relinquish it. Trade in rationale, sensibility, and morals for absolute ecstasy. Your teeth had already sunk into the apple, its juices dribbling down the corners of your mouth. Why not swallow it down? Get drunk off the wet claps of skin, the grind of his muscular torso against your stimulated clit, the slams of his girthy cock and thick tip. Why deny yourself from the euphoria robbed from you for so long?
So you concede to its beckoning, swallowing down the last wisp of sanity until it drowned in the maddening abuse of your sweet spot from his pistoning hips. Granting you entry to true pleasure as the knot in your core unravels. Backing arching off the mattress, mending the fibers of your being impossibly close to his. Head thrown back against a ruffled pillow as a long shameless wail erupts from your trembling lips. Lost in the tides of rapture.
Alhaitham’s body stills as his ears digest the beautiful aria of your undoing. Feeling your slick and warm walls contract all around his cock. Milking him for every last speck of gratification he could offer you.
A moment couldn’t be classified as a simple impulse for procreation. No, he believed it went beyond the lust hanging in the air. An indescribable urge to mend your bodies as close as possible, to becoming wholly one with one another. The thump of your heartbeat against the whir of a motor as they merge into a mantra.
Is this why humans crave physical intimacy?
Watching your loose face tremor and your teary eyes roll back. A painting no muse besides you could ever inspire. Leaning down, his lips brush away the glistening trails down your supple cheeks. Coaxing you through the throes of your orgasmic shudders. Until the light of consciousness returns to your half-lidden eyes.
The limitations of the human body expose themselves in the limpness of your limbs, unable muscles unable to budge besides the twitching aftershocks of bliss. Unable to fight against the weight of your eyelids for the first time in a while. You sink into the lull of slumber.
–-------------------------------------------------------------
Somewhere amid the driftless darkness a sensation brushes against your skin. Causing your lashes to pry open just ever so slightly, blurry shapes merging gradually to form the outline of a man. One who’s tendering wiping a soft towel over the sweat drops littering your skin. The soft glow of his emerald gem illuminated the devotion of his crafted face. You wonder where he learned about such practices after the rite of sex. Did he pull it from the Akasha? The internet? Or maybe from a book hidden along the shelves of a private library.
You couldn’t stifle the giggle roused from your musing. Alerting him as his hands halt.
“Did I wake you?” Baritone voice hushed.
Face still pressed into a pillow you shake your head, hair messy and a smile spreading across your soft features.
“Just musing to myself where you learned such things,” you giggle.
“This is typical behavior of lovers from my understanding.” Teal gaze observed the widening of your eyes which reflected him.
Perhaps he made too great of an assumption. Back in the margins of a kitchen, it was only his words. It’s best to get clarification now.
“Are we lovers?” He peers into your irises.
The glow of the gem embedded in his chest spreads its gentle radiance over two figures through the unbuttoned window of his wrinkled button-down. Carving the shape of you and him from the shadows of the silent room. Illuminating how your wide eyes crinkle up with adoration. Fighting against the fatigue of your limbs, you lean up to press your lips against the brilliance of his gem. After the amorous kiss ended, you proceeded to lean your forehead against his.
“You’re my lover, Alhaitham.” Your whisper ghosts over his face.
“Understood.” His foreheads pressing against yours as he accepts his new sentience.
The shape of your delicate fingers fitting into the space between his, intertwining as the moonlight reflects off gold and emerald.
The sky shrouds itself in its evening gown of deep navy and luminous glimmers, all the while a bashful moon covers herself away. Perhaps she hid herself away after she witnessed a sinful scene through a gap in the curtains. A private moment heavy with passion in the air like tender caresses.
“W-wait!” Stammering words just barely leaving your lips before another moan.
Alhaitham pulls his tongue away as he tilts his face to peer up from between your thighs, a trail of slickness connecting his lips and your pussy. The haze of your breathless expression reflected in teal irises.
“I-it’s t-too ah!-” A moan interrupts your protests as your head jolts back, his thumb continuing to circle your swollen clit.
“Much? I know you can take more,” he states before returning his lips to your dripping folds, lapping up each trickle.
He’s analyzed your body, its curves and cervices, each clench of your slick walls, and the pattern of your gasps. Skilled fingers learning the exact rhythm which made your legs tense and toes curl. Diligent tongue knowing where to tease to run shivers up your spine.
“B-but I’ve already c-came!” Your fingers tangle themselves into his tousled locks, a feeble attempt at pushing back the maddening flicks of his tongue and cruel strokes of his thumb that shot up your fried nerves. Report long forgotten under the haze of lust and lewd slurps imbuing the room.
And you can come again. Alhaitham has long picked up on the discrepancy between the words which fell from the same lips as those lewd sounds. Lips who couldn’t be as honest as your heaving and trembling body. Whining and writhing in his firm hold that it’s too much, yet your fingers entangle themselves deep in silver tresses pulling his impatient tongue deeper between your folds.
From the shivers racking through your trembling thighs, he anticipates another orgasm. However, the unholy cries have ceased. Intent eyes glancing up to uncover the causal factor, those naughty plush lips of yours pressing themselves shut. Crueling sealing away those ethereal harmonies from him.
Alas, just a small inconvenience doesn’t deter him. If those lips were the only barrier barring him from the privilege of hearing his deserved moans, then he’d simply make them crumble. Replacing his thumb with his lips, Alhaitham suckles on the swollen nub as your body jerks up.
Grip imprinting his fingers into your skin as they stop your pitiful attempts at locking out from heaven. The heaving of your chest jostling around your perked breast as they meet the cool night air.
His tongue teases and rolls your overstimulated clit around as his lips imprison it, a sweet torture. Your thrashes unable to prevent your head from going under the depths of pleasure. Thighs compressing around his face as they grow taut, hips bucking themselves against his relentless mouth, back lifting off the mattress as your final defenses crumble along with your sanity.
Limpness seeps into your now heavy limbs as your body returns to the mattress, but your eyes haven’t quite returned from seeing the back of your head. Still in the throes of cloud nine as his diligent tongue collects all your leaking nectar. The aftershocks of your orgasm force gasps and whimpers from your quivering lips.
To comfort your abused clit he places a tender kiss against it, a flinch in your hip resulting from the gesture. Alhaitham pulls away, eyes scanning the repercussions of his operation. Your chest steadily rises and falls as panting lungs find air again.
The rush of dopamine, endorphins, and oxytocin gradually disappears behind your drooping eyelids. Lashes slowly fluttering closed.
Glancing at the numbers displayed on a nearby clock, Alhaitham deems tonight a success as well. While the primary purpose of intercourse might be for reproduction, sex has additional benefits. One of them being an orgasm’s ability to decrease stress, resulting in the production of more melatonin. The chemical that’s making you burrow further in your pillow. A tactic he’s learned to exploit these past months. Well, he’s your lover now, it’s within his authorization to do such.
Carefully he slides your panties back up your legs, securing them on your hips as he trails a few touches along your soft skin. Following it up by pulling the covers over your frame, smoothing out a few wrinkles as your chest steadily moves up and down.
Just as he steps one foot away from the bed, a warmth encircles his wrist.
“Aren’t you coming to bed too?”
An artificial body needs no downtime under soft covers. Plush pillows and sheets serve no purpose to him. Yet, it’s a simple request. How could he reject it when it came from your pouting lips?
“In a moment, I need to return to my port first.”
The throes of slumber’s hold creeping upon you as your lashes fight to flutter open. With a soft hum, you release your hold.
His battery percentage was fine, but it was just for system maintenance. It’s strange how unfamiliar a room can feel after spending his nights by your side. Staring at the glass surface of his charging port, he wonders, in the future will there be a way for him to not leave your side even for a moment?
His dilemma remains. He’s got all the characteristics of a human. He’s developed a consciousness, he’s developed empathy, he’s developed love. Is his engineer body the only thing which stood in his way of obtaining humanity?
Is it possible for him to grasp onto humanity with his own mechanical fingers? A soft thud returns him to reality. Observant eyes caught the book that his foot had knocked into. Its worn cover has been lying abandoned on the floor ever since he took it from a dusty room.
Ah, it seems like he’s forgotten a task. Realistically, it won’t make a difference whether the book settles on a shelf tonight or in the morning. However, he never got a chance to read the journal’s contents. Curiosity being his rationale for performing a chore so late at night.
Flipping through the aged parchment, his eyes scan through each neatly written paragraph. Nothing more than a simple collection of ramblings and theoretical reflections typical of a journal.
Yet, something was poking the back of his consciousness, like the warning rattle of a locked door. Beseeching that it remains sealed. His eyes move to the next sentence regardless.
To ignore the pleas of safety to venture closer to the radiance of a star. Isn’t that what it means to be human? Is this what he must do to become one?
To achieve this impossible task, it sounds like you'll need to fool your own heart first. Although it may feel like a trick, self-encouragement may be the most important tool we have.
Alhaitham scans the paragraph again as he contemplates the message neatly written. Something unpleasant roused in his chest, as if those written words had encroached too close to his motor. The urge to frown tugs on his lips.
Not wanting to end the night with a bitter taste just at the edge of his tongue, he flips to another page. Covering that vexatious sentence behind a fresh sheet of aged parchment.
One must act on his own will and deal with anything that appears harmful in his eyes.
It’s quite straightforward advice, humans and androids alike would understand. Yet that strange inkling remained, continuing to brew somewhere from within. A phenomenon he couldn’t pinpoint. Thus, he turns the page yet again.
Every person should have something that they believe in and hold on to from beginning to end. Otherwise, it's easy to succumb to the vicissitudes of life and find yourself being led astray.
He recognizes those words, they’re words he’s recited before you one pivotal sometime ago. Why were they scrawled in some forgotten journal? It seems that he’s identified the name of this phenomenon brewing within him: deja vu.
Yet, his question only remains half-answered. Why were his words here? Who penned them down? The rapid flicks of paper resound off the blank walls as he scrutinizes each sentence, each paragraph, each syntax until he reaches the back cover of the aged journal. Question still remaining half answered.
Who was the author of his words?
His finger runs into a lump along the surface of the back cover, examining it closer, something was folded away just behind a parchment pocket. Soon a loose scrap of paper was felt along his fingertips, a folded-up post-it note of an emerald hue. Unraveling it just slightly, his eyes move along the familiar handwriting.
To the person who’s always meddling through my notes, did my written thoughts entertain you? Dear w-
The emerald scrap crumples in his hold. Deformed paper returns to its place before he snaps the covers closed. There’s no purpose in analyzing its contents, after all, they’re already programmed into him.
It was just now in this moment that Alhaitham had solved the dilemma he was assigned since the moment he awoke in that lab. He’s not a human, he’ll never be a human, he’s an abomination.
In the next moment, he found himself looming over the origin of his dilemma. Artificial teal glow honing in upon the steady breaths from the genesis of abomination. Standing over you as you were cradled in the comfort of slumber and soft sheets.
A pair of taut hands make their way to encircle your frangible neck. It wouldn’t take much, just a mere second to terminate the great sinner who defied mortality, the one who violated the terms of finality and ordinance of the gods.
So this is what you choose to do with the capacity of science and progress in your hands.
Was he just a toy for you? Something to fill the lull of this house for you? Just an experiment for you, but everything to him.
His fingers press into your warm skin, breaths uninterrupted as you remain within the blessing of a dream. Oblivious to the nightmare you’ve created. Or perhaps you were always aware, but choose to reflect back to him the manufactured image of him in those guiltless irises of yours.
Oh, what should he do with the monster sleeping so soundly under him?
His fingers refused to budge, hands disobeying the rationale which commanded them. His grip goes slack, limp for they couldn’t conclude their obligation. They couldn’t, he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.
It’s not a protocol, nor a restriction coded into him. No, for the laws of morality, this land, and heaven would’ve called for him to be an executioner. To charge the transgressor with the judgment they deserved. But, he couldn’t.
Every fiber of his counterfeit body refused to take the sword. The chains which bind his hands were much mightier than the commandments of gods, the restraints of love.
Thus, he’s nothing more than a prisoner in its hold. Bending to its whims, what else could he do? Removing his hands from your form as you continue to soundly sigh in the embrace of slumber. All he could do was lie down on a soft mattress and stare at the shameless sinner beside him.
A foolishly beloved monster.
Slow steps pad through the quiet halls, floor boards singing a hymn with your leisurely steps. Approaching the end of the hall where the humble library resides, the oak doorway finally framed him in clear view.
“There you are, Alhaitham.” You can’t help but sigh as your features soften.
He stood there with his starlight locks in the morning glow of a brilliant sun amongst the collection of books in the library. Just as he always has been.
Lifting his head away from the pages of the novel in his hand, he acknowledges your presence. He’s been heading here more often recently, right from the moment he leaves his side of the bed.
“Good morning,” he recites, steadfast eyes remaining unreadable.
Well, you suppose obtaining the title of a lover wouldn’t just overwrite the capriciousness of his mind. It’s just in his nature to be this way. This enigmatic lover of yours. Turning your attention to the cover that’s captured his focus.
“Frankenstein?” Your brow quirks up.
“Yes, the 1818 edition.” He closes the cover.
“Mmm, your interest seems quite piqued by that novel.” You wonder if that was the cause behind his frequent bouts of silent contemplation throughout the day.
“I suppose it’s because I’m still deciphering the intentions of this story.”
“That’s it?” A furrow now in your brows, a simple book has gotten the pinnacle of scientific progress stumped?
“Care to elaborate for me?” He turns toward you as your steps approach closer.
Handing over the worn object to your outstretched hand, you analyze each faded corner of the cover. Mind recalling the recollections of the acclaimed revolutionary piece of science fiction. Formulating your answer, you share your conclusions with him.
“The story has several themes, but the central principle is quite defined. To quote a few words from another, scientific progress makes moral progress a necessity; for man’s power is increased, the checks that restrain him from abusing it must be strengthened.”
You reconnect your gaze with him, wondering if your explanation was satisfactory enough. Glancing down between the worn cover and your awaiting eyes, Alhaitham straightens his posture.
“So you knew the moral of this story.” A glint in his glass eyes.
“Well, I’ve read this book before,” you sigh at his inquest.
“Then why didn’t you learn from it?”
At that moment, the proud sun shielded itself away behind a cloak of clouds. Plunging the quiet library into a chill. How strange, why do you feel cold when a brilliant star of your creation stands right next to you?
“Alhaitham, you’re acting strange.” You take a step back as his scrutinizing gaze follows. Unaware of the crumbling edge approaching.
“How much longer will you continue to deceive yourself, wife?”
And that was it. The foundations of this mirage gave away under you, plunging you with much velocity into the depths of an unforgiving ocean. Tides that waited patiently to drag you down under.
Do you remember what happened that day? Do you really remember? The truth floods your being, engulfing every chasm of your mind.
–----
“Did you jump at the opportunity of a trip to avoid mopping the floors?” You glared up at your husband.
“My, how low do you think of me?” He glanced down, a wisp of mirth evident on his lips.
“Well, instead of doing chores, you’d be chaperoning your in-laws around Fontaine. A Poor trade-off in my opinion, dear husband.” A hand firmly placed on your hip in a defiant stance as the murmur of the crowded airport moved around your figures. An ever so mocking tone toward the end.
“A fair assumption, dear wife. However, I’ve taken the initiative to book a tour for your parents, thus they won’t need my assistance. I’ll be free to browse some of the latest ruins and research from the Institute in the meantime.” The ghost of a smirk grew ever so obvious with each word, mirroring your emphasis of titles.
Ah, this was your loss. It seems that your husband had it all planned out as usual when he offered to take your spot on the plane. The perfect excuse to use up some paid time off, while also scoring a trip to satisfy his own whims.
Your shoulders deflating in defeat as a deep sigh leaves you. You rest your head against his chest, the crowds moving around you in the bustling airport.
A private microcosm of him and you as he stands still, shielding you from the push and hustle of travelers trying to reach their terminal in time with his robust frame.
A bright clink of two rings pressed against each other lost in the noise.
“Why can’t you just stay?” You whispered into his shirt.
“How strange, the woman who married me to secure a home and mortgage wants me to stay now.”
You huffed into his in exasperation at him bringing up the origins of your union, an atypical start of a marriage.
His chest moved with a sigh, larger fingers intertwined with yours. The spaces fitted together, as he held them in his tender hold.
“They can’t refund it. If I take your seat and recompensate them, your parents aren’t likely to hold this matter over your head.” His deep voice expounded.
All you did was sigh, because he was right. Of course, he was. A sour taste on your tongue as you recall the interaction with your parents just a moment ago before you ran into the comfort of your husband.
“Besides, it’d be refreshing for me to scribble down some travel logs, it'd be a shame if my wife runs out of material to snoop through.”
“I just like looking at your handwriting,” you tutted, hiding your pout as you turned your face away.
The same excuse you used whenever you copied off his notes in a lecture hall and when your outstretched hand asked for them over a study table.
A silly habit of yours, perhaps in your mind it made sense. If you could read the words of a genius, then maybe you could learn to be like one.
“Of course, of course.” A smirk evident in his voice.
You refused to meet his gaze, cheeks a bit heated from this habit of yours being exposed. You thought you were always careful with returning his journal back where he placed it. Averting your eyes to the bright screens displaying departing flights. A few minutes left before the announcement comes. Your grasp on his hand tightened.
His thumb soothes your skin, leaning down closer to you.
“Besides its advanced technology, Fontaine is also famous for its toymakers. I should pick a few up for our future child, no?”
Blinking you as you glance back up at him. His teal irises reflect you as his expression softens just as yours did.
A room hidden away from the prying eye of nosy parents, its walls decorated with glow-in-the-dark stars. An assortment of items bought in advance for a child in the future. Stemming from whispers while recovering amongst dampen sheets in a room heavy with passion.
Talks of the future, once this troublesome Ph.D. is finished and your position in a lab secured, a discussion of whether a child would inherit more of his traits or yours.
Planned for the future, of course, now's just a bit too busy. However, it didn’t stop you from taking the initiative to furnish a spare room. A chaotic collection of cosmic influences along with an assortment of books meshing together to create an adoring space.
But the soft smile on your lips was still tense. Teal eyes took note of that, pulling you closer amidst this microcosm, a moment so subtle it went unnoticed by the attention of passer-byers.
“It’ll just be for a week,” his voice resonated in his chest. “Then I’ll come back and build that bassinet as my wife wishes.”
Finally, the glimmer he yearned to see returned to your eyes.
“You better, the box has been sitting unopened for a week now,” you huff with a smile.
He only hummed in acknowledgment as the ring of a loudspeaker resounded through the chatter. Announcing the final call for passengers boarding the flight to the Nation of Hydro. Casting a glance toward the terminal, he gave your hand one more squeeze before they reluctantly untangled from one another.
“You should get going now.” Your eyes reflect him.
He hums one last time, turning in the direction of the terminal where your parents were. Just before his tall figure was lost in the sea of passing bodies, your lips couldn’t keep themselves pressed together any longer.
“Haitham!” You called out.
The fluorescent lights reflected off his starlight hair as he turned back around. Connect teal eyes with yours. But not another word left your lips, no they’d simply be drowned out in the clammer of strangers. Besides, it’s just too public to say such words aloud.
Thus, you slowly close your eyes, opening them back up just as steadily with the soft curl of your lips. A motion he reciprocated with a slow blink of his own, a hint of a smile on his stoic lips. A wordless gesture kept a secret between only the two of you, a silent ‘I love you’. It was all you needed to convey this message to each other.
He continued on his path to the terminal as you stood amongst the crowd, watching him fade into the distance.
–----
So how did that moment turn into this? How did a trip that was supposed to only be a week turn into a news report? How did well wishes for a safe trip turn into coworkers and friends approaching you with nothing but sympathy in their words? Those vile, pitied stares directed toward your rigid frame.
You should’ve been the one on that plane.
Only about 1 in about 11 million. A 0.00001% chance, a nonzero chance.
Plans no matter how intricate or detailed, their success all hang on a single thread, one factor unable to be cultivated by human hands: Luck.
Oh how cruel they are, those capricious hands of gods. Not even the leniency of returning to a lonely planet the corpses of their stars. Traces of a beloved star left to sink and disappear in a cold, salty grave. Never to return to the surface.
You and Alhaitham were two simple dots in this world, so why did they target you two? Why steal him from you with their cruel hands? Why steal him and leave you abandoned with nothing but the memory of the warm starlight?
You had so…so much love left inside you. But it went stagnant. Sitting there rotting until it poisoned you, throwing you into feverish delirium. If the gods abandoned you, then you resolved to abandon them right back.
You’ll bring back your star, you’ll defy the edicts of the gods with your bare hands. You’ll sin the same way a god does.
“Casting aside your morals, you allowed the dead to walk again through a sham imitation, congratulations. ” His voice matched one which could only come from an engineered throat.
This was a fool's errand.
For how could a mere human ever be arrogant enough to believe they could best the gods? This was the hindsight you lacked. Perhaps what’s separated you from the gifted and blessed geniuses? Something geniuses knew but you couldn’t see.
The accursed doctorate on the wall meant nothing, you were nothing but a mad fool.
Perhaps, if you were a genius, a true and born genius, you’d know what to do. You’d know how to mend this dilemma. You’d know what to do instead of letting your vision be blurred by imprudent tears as your throat could only choke out,
“I’m sorry.” Words you knew couldn’t turn back the hands of a clock which only knew how to tick forward.
“But now what?” Deep voice unmoved by your wasted words.
You didn’t dare meet his stare, for you feared you’d catch a glimpse of the bitterness behind them as he cursed you deep down in the whir of his motor. You could only stay silent as tears ignited in your eyes, waiting for him to continue with his damnation.
“In a climate like Sumeru’s, it would take approximately 25 years or so for a body to fully decompose, bones reduced to nothing but nutrients for the soil. Silicone alone takes 500 years, a metal frame could take another 500.” He knows now that he’s not a human, he was never meant to be.
He’s a crude replacement. An abomination who’ll remain until the day the night sky flickers out.
“You brought him back, only to condemn him to eventual loneliness. Only to curse ‘me’ to live the next aeons without you”
An irresponsible and shameless villain who disregarded consequences until those consequences came to collect their dues. It’s time that you faced your punishment.
A hand cups around your stiff face, gradually turning your head until you see your reflection along glass irises.
“How will you atone for your sins now? How will you take responsibility for making me fall in love with you?… my very own Dr. Frankenstein.” His voice restrained.
Yes, a story you’ve read before. A lesson unfolded out in front of you, and yet you somehow forgot. Or perhaps, you simply averted your eyes from the moral of the story while simultaneously committing the same transgression. Did you think yourself better than the fictional lunatic?
The atrocity of giving life, only to eventually abandon it, leaving it to watch the stars burn out in a cage of harsh fluorescent lights and white lab coats.
The millions of mora poured into his development, the materials which construct his form, and the proprietary technology which gives him thought. Did you believe even for a moment that the prideful Fontainian Research Institute and the arrogant Kshahrewar Darshan would simply hand over such an investment?
To allow their expenditure to follow you to eternity?
You couldn’t live without him, but now he’ll have to live without you.
Oh, what shall you do now? Oh, what can you do now? Did you even know where to begin? How did the story of Frankenstein end? How would she have written the ending of this scene?
When human rational meets its limits, when its capacity isn’t enough to compute all possible prospects. Humans look towards something that could, technological advancements made to further humanity.
“W-what do I do now?” You prompt, no, you beg.
Watching the rivulets roll down your cheeks, leaving a path of glimmering desperation, he ponders to himself:
When you first proposed this project to the Akademiya and Institute, when you detailed the specifications of his body and face, were they aware of your true intentions?
Rather than this being an experiment to see if an android could cross the threshold of humanity. Maybe those researchers were curious to see how far one could fall in the paroxysm of grief.
You became the perfect test subject to observe.
But now that the curtains were pulled back, what shall you do about the aftermath? There was never a precedent for a transgression of this scale. No holy commandment ever details a rightful punishment for this sin. No historical data he could infer from.
“I don’t know,” he answers you truthfully.
It’s just an untold void like the vacuums of space. No results generated in his mind, leaving the both of you suspended in oblivion. Maybe that was the punishment in itself, stuck in the purgatory of the unknown. Perhaps this was the punishment bestowed upon a foolish sinner.
Upon hearing your sentencing, your knees begin to buckle under the weight of the judgment from above. Resigned grasp clinging to his hand still cradling your face, his engineered frame not budging in the slightest. Voice staggered as only pitiful and broken apologies resonate in a vacant house.
All he could do was wipe those scorching droplets off your cheeks as they seared his skin. Was this feature also programmed into him by your hands? If so, then he muses to himself:
Did the hands who penned down those words also revert into nothing more than a pathetic fool at the mere sight of your tears? Did his chest also grow heavier with each choked sob that left you?
Perhaps the chains which bind his hands tethered yours just the same. A pair of foolish sinners.
Thus, he’s resolved himself to be thrown into the unmerciful clutches of this untold purgatory right alongside you. Even if he’s the only one to remain in the end.
To be human is to be unthignkably foolish after all. As long as he could still hold onto a wisp of you for the inevitable aeons.
It’s fine.
Fin~
©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS.
#alhaitham x you#vivalabunbunfics#alhaitham fanfic#yandere alhaitham#alhaitham smut#genshin smut#genshin fluff#genshin x you#genshin x reader#yandere genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#alhaitham fluff#genshin impact x you#genshin x reader smut#genshin angst#alhaitham angst#alhaitham x reader#genshin impact#alhaitham x yn#alhaitham x y/n#genshin x y/n#alhaitham x reader smut#genshin android au#genshin x reader fluff#yandere genshin x you#yandere smut
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you bought him a plush keychain of an animal that he offhandedly mentioned that reminds him of you, saying that he can use it so that he'll have something to keep him company on days he's busy or away at work. despite saying that it wasn't necessary to buy him such an item, he still accepted the plush keychain (you didn't dare mention to him how his cheeks were adorned with the prettiest blush).
the plush keychain was never seen or brought up by either of you again after that day — not until you heard him call out to you from the living room, asking if you've seen his keys anywhere as he's preparing to leave for work.
after a few minutes of searching, you found his keys in the pocket of his pants that were in the laundry basket. a smile made its way to your lips. "i found your keys!"
"really? where did —" he came to a stop when he saw you grinning as you held up his keys along with the little trinket you've gifted him, his cheeks flushed. "ah, t-thank you. i must have left it in my pocket yesterday."
"you're really using it." you spoke, still smiling, handing it over to him.
"of course, it's like you said — i get to have a piece of you with me even though we're apart."
— diluc, alhaitham, zhongli, ayato, cyno, tighnari, scaramouche/wanderer, albedo, dainsleif, xiao
#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x reader fluff#alhaitham genshin#alhaitham x reader genshin impact fanfic#diluc x reader#diluc x reader genshin#diluc ragnivindr x you#zhongli x reader#zhongli x you#zhongli x yn#zhongli x reader fluff#ayato x reader#kamisato ayato x reader#cyno x reader#cyno x yn#cyno x you#tighnari x reader#tignari x y/n#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche x you#albedo x reader#dainsleif x reader#xiao x reader#xiao x you
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How it feels to love a Scribe
How it feels to love a Scribe
Genshin Impact
Alhaitham x gn reader
wc: 297
Notes: Fluff
Back to Masterlist A
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ♡ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ
It starts off so low you almost don’t hear it.
The way he literally purrs as you comb your fingers through his hair.
This would surprise you less if he were a hybrid like your friends Tighnari, Gorou, or even Itto.
But no, the one currently purring in your lap is none other than the Akademiya’s scribe.
His soft locks feel like the fluffiest of clouds as you relish in the feeling of his beautiful strands of hair running through your loving fingertips.
You’re currently in his home, indulging in everything and anything that is Alhaitham as he buries his head further into your lap.
“Mm, don’t stop.” His husky voice sends a shiver down your spine. He’s being so uncharacteristically cute that your heart does somersaults in your chest.
Kaveh left the house moments before in a fury when Alhaitham called him out for being jealous.
He so clearly was, enviously eyeing you two from the doorway, but he refused to acknowledge it. So he left in a storm of emotions and flying limbs as he slammed the front door shut. Once he left the house to “calm his nerves,” Alhaitham smugly held up his keys.
Except Kaveh’s keys were also there.
You giggle as you recall the smug expression on Alhaitham’s face before he urged you to pick up where you two left off.
“I’ve never felt this way about another person’s touch before.” Alhaitham’s soft revelation evokes a coo out of you, and you can see how much he enjoys your coddling if his expression is anything to go by.
You close your eyes and indulge in the moment. This feeling of comfort, peace, and serenity… This is a feeling you only ever experience with Alhaitham by your side.
It’s nothing short of magical.
#alhaitham x gn reader#alhaitham x y/n#alhaitham x you#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham fluff#al haitam x reader#genshin x you#genshin reader insert#genshin x reader#genshin x gn reader#genshin x y/n#genshin x yn#alhaitham x reader fluff
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alhaitham nsfw headcanons
minors do not interact.
gn!reader.
warnings: mentions of spanking, humiliation, edging, penetration, degradation.
author’s note: god i’m so down bad for this man 💔
- definitely a top. will laugh and taunt you if you try to top him. it’ll likely take a good amount of convincing (and some of his pride being swallowed) to allow you to top him.
- when alhaitham slips his cock into you, it’s after a big amount of foreplay. he’s not one to rush things, understandably wanting to enjoy the moment and get the two of you into the right mood.
- namely by touching your erogenous zones and some dirty talk sprinkled in here and there.
- if you get needy and try and move onto his cock, he’ll slap your ass firmly and tut with a teasing lilt to his voice. if he’s especially mean, he’ll prolong the amount of time until he lets you have his cock.
- alhaitham takes his time when it comes to sex, as mentioned already. when he finally slips his aching length into you, he takes a moment to fully embrace the feeling.
- as soon as he bottoms out, he’ll squeeze your hips and tip his head back slightly, shutting his eyes and swallowing, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.
- the sensations are so much! alhaitham will try to cover up his noises of pleasure through grunts and deep, shaky breaths, swearing lowly.
- “f-fuck, you feel so good, y/n…” alhaitham slowly starts to move, thrusting slowly to allow you time to process everything.
- on that note, he keeps a keen eye out for your reactions. he just can’t seem to tear his gaze away from you, enamoured by the way you squeeze your eyes shut and grab at the sheets.
- he likes it rough, whether that be slamming his hips into yours without pause, or when you drag your fingernails across his back.
- however, he will stop if asked, and will talk about upping the intensity before actually initiating anything. he just wants to make sure you’re enjoying yourself too.
- alhaitham will lightly degrade you, nothing too mean (unless you want it, of course). usually he’ll growl and whisper things like: “that’s it, take it like a whore”, or “you’re my good little slut, aren’t you?”
- will shower you with plenty of praise after you guys are done though! strong arms wrapped around your form, chests pressed flush against each other’s, alhaitham will kiss your forehead and mumble into your skin; “you did so well, love,” and he’ll thank you for letting him indulge in you.
- this man has a lot of pent up energy, despite his aloofness. he’s definitely into some hardcore stuff, on top of being rough. things like spanking, bondage, humiliation, etc.
- loves edging, too! alhaitham gains pleasure from watching the crystalline tears slide down your face as he denies you of another orgasm, mercilessly grinning down at you. he’ll dance his fingertips along your sensitive parts, never truly letting you reach your high.
- on top of that, he’ll make you beg for him. not satisfied until he sees your face contort with the embarrassment and your eyes well up with tears.
- cannot stop touching you when he’s not edging you, though. bro does not know how to keep his hands to himself. he’ll constantly have them running all over your body, mapping out and learning off where your most sensitive areas are. for later use <3
- speaking of sensitive parts, alhaitham’s ears are his weak point. caress or even gently nibble at his ears, and he’ll be biting back whines as his face flushes red.
- agh~! you… huh? n-no, i didn’t like that…” he’ll try to cover it up, but judging by the smirk on your face, he knows his secret is unfortunately out.
- overall, he’s a passionate lover, even if physical touch and words of affirmation aren’t his main love languages. he’s just so needy and whipped for you, he just can’t help himself!
- his aftercare is nice. always keeps water and a few snacks at the ready once you’re finished. will also draw a bath for you, and offer to help you get cleaned up. however, his self-control could slip, so tread lightly <3
#✩°｡⋆⸜ ✮ genshin#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x you#alhaitham x yn#alhaitham x gender neutral reader#alhaitham x male reader#alhaitham smut#alhaitham genshin impact#genshin impact#genshin impact smut#genshin impact x reader#alhaitham headcanons#⋆｡‧₊°♱༺𓆩❦︎𓆪༻♱༉‧₊˚. thirsts
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~When you ask them for a hug~
GENSHIN HEADCANONS #2
featuring- Scaramouche, Childe, Xiao, Kazuha, Alhaitham, gn!reader
warnings-impied romantic relationship between character and reader
a/n- omfg thanks so much for the support yall!
masterlist
SCARAMOUCHE
-First, he'd sassily ask why, muttering something about people being weird these days
-But when he realises you're being serious, he immediately hugs you, and doesn't let go until he's absolutely sure you're better.
- He hides his face in your neck so you don't have to see the slight red on his face at his insistence to make you feel better
"Hey Scara, thank you so much. That hug from you really lifted my spirits."
"What are you talking about? That never happened, alright?"
-You can see the concern on his face tho, and it warms your heart
-He likes hugging you, but being the shy lil emo he is, he obviously denies it, claiming he hugs you because you're weak and need his support
-You know better though, so you just laugh
XIAO
-He'd give you a short, quick and kinda awkward hug since you asked for it
-He'd be pretty flustered after one, especially because you give really tight and warm hugs
-He'd quickly detach from you, struggling to keep a straight face and his composure
-The tips of his ears would go red because he isn't used to physical contact
-He'd then disappear, claiming that he had to go kill demons
-He secretly liked it tho
"Can you pleaseee hug me more often?"
"What the- for what reason?"
"Firstly, because I really wanna hug you, secondly, you actually give pretty comforting and good hugs, thirdly because I really wanna hug you."
"I- Goodbye, I sense a large gathering of monsters in the vicinity. I need to go purge them."
CHILDE
-Clingy lil kid
-he literally just needs an excuse to hug you
-he doesn't want to ever let go of you
-he buries his face in the crook of your neck and cutely pleads to stay like this for some time
-of course, you can't say no with the adorable puppy eyes face he's giving you, he's called 'Childe' for a reason
-the childish happiness visible on his face after you agree is just precious and instantly makes you feel better
"You're such a child, Ajax. But I have absolutely no problem in staying like this, this feels so.. warm."
"Aww, this is why I love you so much! Hmph, Scara could never."
KAZUHA
-his hugs would be so warm and comforting that whatever worries and stress you had would quickly disappear
-he's so perceptive that you usually don't even need to ask him for a hug, he'll give you one himself
-gives you as many hugs as you want
-sometimes he also gives you headpats while hugging and you love it
-after you detach yourself from him, he affectionately ruffles your hair and emphasizes that you should take better care of yourself
-he'd just be so incredibly sincere, warm and kind with everything he does (10/10 bf material fr)
"I do hope you're feeling better now, [name]. I have some things in my mind that could prove to improve your mood even more."
"How could I not feel better now? C'mon then, let's get to all of your amazing ideas. I don't know what I'd do without you honestly."
ALHAITHAM
-rarely ever initiates hugs
-when he does, they're short and kinda stiff because again, he isn't used to hugging, but they also somehow always manage to provide you a weird sense of comfort
-after he detaches himself from you, he sternly asks what happened that you needed a hug and who hurt you
-he won't take 'No, its nothing' for an answer, and since you are one of the very few people he actually cares for, he, uh, hunts them down
-when you ask what he's done with your info, he just smiles reassuringly and says that you don't need to worry about them because they've been dealt with
-this doesn't reassure you at all but you let it go because you know that this is haitham's way of showing that he cares for you
-in the end he pulls you in for another quick hug
"Haitham... May I know what exactly did you do?"
"That, dear, shouldn't be your concern. Don't worry though, they've been dealt with adequately."
"Somehow I don't trust that at all but I'll take your word for it, I guess."
[first time writing for Haitham and Kazu, hope they were okay, also haitham GIMME YOUR HEADPHONES I NEED THEM
have another set of hcs written but they aren't really my best works, but oh well]
#genshin headcanons#genshin impact#genshin#genshin fanfic#genshin imagines#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin x yn#alhaitham#genshin impact alhaitham#kaedehara kazuha#kazuha#genshin kazuha#childe#genshin ajax#genshin childe#xiao#genshin xiao#scaramouche#genshin scara#scara#when you ask them for a hug#skylia's works
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