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seraphiism · 1 year

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𓆩 ღ 𓆪 𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐚

( i hope your dream won't just be left as a dream. )

chara : alhaitham fandom : genshin impact quote cr : agust d a/n : i must be honest . i have no idea what i wrote (ﾉ `Д`) ﾉ. focuses on alhaitham's past, might be ooc

prologue : ( the absence ) of dreams.

there is a place where knowledge survives in the depths of the world, its roots far and wide : agile, ubiquitous, resilient. how it fosters progressive growth and brilliant minds, sets the driving force for discovery and beyond.

there is a place where knowledge remains stagnant in the depths of the world, its roots damaged and decomposed : devitalized. dying. dead. how it fosters an insatiability and never ending greed, sets the expectations for discovery to come and go with such ease.

in this place, dreams are stolen away, only witnessed by youth. because there is always something to be learned in these visions, they'll say, because they'll stretch the truth, make something out of nothing ; they'll find a way to justify the theft of one's mind and soul and spirit intertwined in the manifestation of reverie, and you would have never known.

in this place, a scribe thrives, mind sharp and knowledgeable. in this place, a loneliness grows up and distances himself from the rest, finds that solitude has always been a friend first and foremost.

in this place, the foundation of wisdom and greater things-- home, alhaitham learns to dream again.

prologue , revisited : ( the absence ) of dreams , the absence of what could have been.

alhaitham remembers little of his childhood ; ask him of his origins and he will remember seldom through first-hand experience. they won't question it, not too much-- because oh, well-- it's hard to remember those things when you're so young, and they'll leave it at that because that's normal, isn't it? to be forgetful of a time where you knew so little, knew only how to rely on others and how to breathe and live and survive through the hand that feeds.

they'll leave it at that, but even if they didn't, he doesn't think he would mind. perhaps there is a distant sadness that survives in the crevices of the heart, never learning to fade in years past, and maybe that's just part of the human equation. he doesn't think about it much. no need to, after all.

yes, they'll leave it at that, blame the lack of memories in youth from age. they won't know that he lost his parents too early, lost something he never quite had, because can you really say you had something when it slipped out of your grasp so quickly and so soon? alhaitham finds some semblance of logic in that, but maybe that's selfish. of course he had his parents. he is sure that he loved them and he is sure that they loved him. maybe it is easier to cope somehow with these thoughts, even if there may be some cruelty in it.

perhaps he does miss his parents, after all, even if he understands that sometimes, it is hard to miss what you never had.

chapter one : the first dream.

it's an ordinary sunday and the room is white. look out the window and there's sunlight to be found, and what a beautiful sight it is, but what a frightening realization it is : it reaches and reaches, begging, but it never reaches the room, obstructed by the glass.

alhaitham doesn't know what it means. he doesn't know how he remembers that it's sunday, doesn't know why this place is familiar. it's cold. he doesn't think he's afraid, but this feeling that creeps up his spine deems an unrest, but he'll call it uncertainty, because there's always an explanation for everything, but even he cannot find the answers to what lies before him.

it is a vast space, endless, but he continues anyway. the path is tiresome, progress indistinguishable in the white. the sunlight stays, too. there is something to be found here. liminal space or not, he continues forth. the unrest brews. something in him trembles, but he walks, anyway.

endless. unforgiving. endless. unfamiliar. an undesired forever, the tiring of self, the burning in one's limbs, the extinction of energy, then --

a faint orange and yellow. alhaitham glances at the windows now, finds that the sunlight has found its way to the place where it belongs. he walks again. the orange and yellow hues grow with each step ; the cold slowly dissipates, and in his trek, it is almost like he is unearthing a life. he doesn't run, no, but part of him wants to, because there is something to be found here, but he doesn't. not yet.

the colors flood in. the white becomes something unforgotten, summons everything else in its absence. there is something that lies at the end -- he can see it -- it is something so terribly familiar but not known, so he runs and he runs and he runs until he becomes of close proximity, then he stops.

there is something to be found : a memory, a happiness, a sorrow.

it is almost a vision of some sort-- a strange sight, the image of himself. he doesn't move, frozen in place. he wonders what sort of expression he wields.

because before him, there is a happy family. a mother and father, one with the same shade of gray hair, another with the same shade of green eyes. it's a tranquil scene, and he cannot make out what is being said, but there are smiles on their faces as they look down at the child the mother holds.

he swallows hard. he does not know what to make of this. he takes a deep breath, shuts his eyes, almost smiles at the sound of distant laughter, and wonders if this is a dream. if it is, then this is not reality -- so he can find distance from this, somehow, and release himself from the fear and confusion of the unknown.

yes, perhaps this is a dream. maybe this is a memory of when his parents first brought him home.

his eyes feel heavy. he opens them anyway, witnesses the blooming of a newfound love and joy. he smiles a bittersweet smile and wonders if he will remember this when he wakes.

chapter one , aftermath : the first dream.

alhaitham wakes with a racing heart. he blinks, stares absentmindedly at the ceiling. he remembers bits and pieces of something; it lingers on the tip of his tongue, threatens to be forgotten. he should remember. he knows it was something very dear to him.

his heart slows eventually. he doesn't move. he has to remember, but the pillow under his head and the warmth of your body slowly lull him back to slumber, threaten to bring him under and free him of a lost memory on the verge of discovery.

"that's not sleeping."

he snaps from his train of thought at your mumbling. you don't think much of it at first; alhaitham is such a light sleeper that the smallest movement would wake him, but there is something different about his countenance that piques your curiosity.

"you okay?"

he looks at you, almost uncertain-- an expression you rarely see from your lover, but he nods before his gaze returns to the ceiling. he looks more perplexed than anything, deep in thought, and you almost want to press the issue, but you don't.

"i dreamt."

the knowing of dreams is no longer a shocking revelation nowadays, but even so, the restoration of them is a celebration. you do not remember yours too often, but when you do, you write them down, knowing that the recovery of such a vision should be cherished. you wonder if this is the first time he remembers his.

you wonder if it was peaceful. you wonder what it is that brings him uncertainty : the dream itself, or the ability to dream once again.

"was it a good one?" your voice is quiet. careful.

silence. the wind is a gentle breeze outside, barely heard. alhaitham inhales deeply, turns on his side to face you. it's almost instinct that your hands meet, palm against palm, and he smiles gently when he compares his hands to yours.

"it was." he laces his fingers with yours. "i dreamt of my parents."

even in the moonlit darkness, you feel the kindness in his gaze. you squeeze his hand, feel that lump in your throat when you remember his past hardships.

"i'm glad." your lips brush against his knuckles, grateful. "i hope you dream of them again."

chapter two : the second dream.

it's an ordinary sunday and the room is already filled with sunlight. alhaitham recognizes this, surrounded by rays of tenderness and warmth, and knows this to be yet another dream. he wonders if it will be different than before. he is reminded of that endless loop of dreams, understands them to be both wanted and unwanted, but he recalls the first dream, knows that to relive such a sight would be most welcome.

he walks. the path is vast once again, but there is hope in his stride. this time, there is a familiar shade of green and white that fills his vision. distant figures. he walks, anyway.

before him there are two people. one wields that same shade of gray, but this time, it is through age, and the other--

alhaitham suddenly feels an ache. the other is a young child. the other is him, an orphan, an outcast. he sits next to his grandmother, bright curiosity and intrigue in his eyes as she reads to him. a day like any other, he remembers, but special, nonetheless.

he smiles a bittersweet smile. dreams are not always beautiful, and even if this one hurts, it still is.

he swallows hard, takes a deep breath, closes his eyes. somewhere in the distance, he hears his grandmother's laughter when his younger self asks for yet another story.

one more, she'll say, he imagines, and she does.

he smiles a bittersweet smile. something aches so terribly.

he should wake soon.

chapter two , aftermath : the second dream.

"alhaitham?"

alhaitham wakes with a racing heart. there is something wrong-- there must be with the way you look at him, eyes wide and filled with worry. your fingers linger on his wrist, frantic pulse known by your touch. he doesn't quite understand, slumber weakly holding onto consciousness, and it is only when he feels something trail down his face that he truly wakes.

rare is it that he sheds tears. in truth, he remembers the last time he cried, dressed in all black, vision blurred. a burial site. words of comfort unheard, muffled. forgotten.

how many apologies did he hear until they meant nothing?

"love--" you grab his wrist, gentle, slowly ease him back to the present. "are you--" you pause, take a deep breath, ease the tension from your shoulders. there are only so many times you can ask someone if they're okay, so you don't. another deep breath. "i'm here with you."

you have never seen alhaitham in such a state, never seen him cry. although he may not actively be distressed, the baffled countenance he fails to keep at bay says more than enough. with a soothing touch, you wipe the tears away, notice how quick they are to stop. alhaitham doesn't say much, tells you that he's alright, thanks you for your comfort.

you don't ask what he dreamt of, but there is something very lonely in the way he holds you that night.

he is afraid to fall asleep. he does not know if he desires yet another memory in slumber.

what a very selfish thought to have. he is sorry.

chapter three : the third dream.

it's a special sunday and the room is white, but already is it filled with warmth and daylight. he recognizes this place, knows it to be one of many celebrations. there is no journey, no endless trek. he is right where he needs to be. the scene is different this time. he is not a spectator ; instead, he is here, now, in this moment.

around him, there is endless chatter. he imagines he would enjoy the quiet more, but this time is different -- it almost brings relief to his heart, brings a lightness to it. around him are familiar companions-- a certain forest ranger, a known eremite-- ah, there's kaveh, crying and mumbling a thousand congratulations that aren't quite coherent.

and right before him, there is you ; your hands in his, both adorned with silver bands. you look beautiful, is his first thought, and he wonders if he said it out loud, given the way you smile so brightly at him.

this is a dream. it is a beautiful one, and it is one that he hopes will come true one day.

alhaitham smiles back, kisses you with all the love in the world.

he will wake up soon. he wishes he could hold onto this dream for a little bit longer, but that's okay, because when he wakes, you'll be at his side.

chapter three , aftermath : the third dream.

"i dreamt of you."

your normal routine goes this way : annoying alarm, the impending doom of the workday, and the useless means of avoidance by burying yourself deeper into the sheets until alhaitham drags you out of bed. sometimes he kisses your head in a silent greeting, sometimes he wishes you a good morning.

this, you think, is very much new, and probably the fastest way he's ever woken you up.

"oh." you stare at the ceiling before you roll over and look at him. "good morning to you, too."

worry is your first instinct-- given the nature of his previous dreams, you do not know what to expect. the visions the dreamscape blesses him with are both nostalgic and gut-wrenching, sorrow laced with catharsis.

"good morning." like clockwork, he raises his hand, lips curling faintly when you press yours against his.

"gonna share with the class?"

"the class should practice patience." he chuckles at your mildly annoyed expression, wonders how you will react to his thoughts. "i dreamt that we got married."

you freeze at those words, eyes wide, brows knit ever so slightly as you try to comprehend the words. he says it so casually, the topic of marriage. dream or not, the mere thought of a future together for the rest of your lives brings a sense of serenity, though your expression doesn't quite reflect it at the moment.

alhaitham finds it endearing.

"i would like to remember that dream for a long time."

you shake yourself out of stupor, ignore the way your face practically feels like it's the sun itself.

"tell me more about it."

"kaveh was crying."

"okay, and?"

he hums, thoughtful.

"you looked beautiful."

"oh? sounds like a good dream."

your response is nonchalant, though it is betrayed by the blithe smile that graces your lips at the thought of what that day would be like. alhaitham's gaze is filled with an incredible fondness as he looks at you, wonders when that day will come.

"yes, it was. i'd like to make it real."

oh. you wonder how he can manage to say such a thing so casually-- one would almost think he was discussing the weather. you blink, speechless. you almost want to ask if he's joking , though you know he's entirely serious when he says that, but still--

"okay." there is no hesitation in your words. "i'll marry you, alhaitham."

he almost seems surprised himself-- a spark of shock that quickly dies down into mild relief buried in amusement.

"that isn't my official proposal."

you lace your fingers together, press a kiss against his knuckles.

"i know." your words are barely above a whisper now, almost sacred, but he hears them loud and clear. "but whenever or however you do it, i'll say yes, you know."

of course he knows. always has. he squeezes your hand before pulling you closer, lips meeting in quiet euphoria and promise.

somewhere, there is a place where dreams are deemed part of one's soul once more, unraveling and uncovering the most vulnerable parts of the spirit. in this place, alhaitham dreams once more, memories revived and revisited.

in this place, alhaitham dreams of a happily ever after with you, and someday, you will relive that dream together, and it will be wonderful.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #favoniuslibrary #astronetwrk #alhaitham x reader #im dead. nearly 2.7k words. idk what happened . i dont even know what i wrote #i meant to write smth brief . smth came over me #i love sumeru + dreams ... what a concept ....#anyway ... lots of abstract and mindless writing in this one as well. probably why #i feel like it's not cohesive but the less i think abt my writing the better it turns out bc im not limiting myself #so hopefully this isn't too bad LMAO IM NERVOUS #its 6am . if there are errors. do not perceive them . goodnight #.: writing

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