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#welcome home sage
the1trueanon · 1 year
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Sage 🤝Dolly being suppliers for Howdy lmao
since Sage is a gardener, i figured she and Howdy often trade produce and stuff, so Sage is one of Howdy's main suppliers for fresh produce. maybe also flower arrangements, though i haven't decided if he gets those directly from Sage or if maybe Julie is also involved however, to get stuff like teas or certain plant mixes or gardening stuff or anything custom, you'd have to go to Sage herself! she 100% sells some of her stuff too -w- has her own teeny shop and everything, though its not nearly as big as the Bugdega. she makes and sells really good lavender syrup :D and dandelion honey!! Poppy loves to use them
anywho!! Dolly Delight here belongs to @nonomives!! a bright lil bee miss!! Sage would love being friends with her, i bet -w- (she'd get along really well with Rosemary >:3)
(please click for better image quality TwT)
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I just had a big brain objectum moment:
Wally Darling has a crush on Home, though he’s only ever known neighbourly/platonic love so he’s only able to sum up his romantic feelings as “Home is just the most!”. He often gushes to Poppy when they hang out, Wally would gush about Home to his best friend Barnaby but he worries that the big blue beagle won’t take it seriously (as if he takes anything seriously) and Julie is never still or quiet enough for Wally to get a word in with her.
One day Wally gushes to Frank. “Home is just the most!” Wally tells him “They make me breakfast every morning, tell me sweet dreams and comfort me when I’m sad and sometimes before I leave give their front door a kiss goodbye so they’re not too sad when I leave-“
And Frank just sits there blankly, wondering if he should say something or not…
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as8bakwthesage · 9 months
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“Well, you needn’t fret, Sage! We’ll get you all patched up and quickly so we can return to the game!” — Frank
It was criminally fun to draw Frank and my sona interacting. Obviously next on the list is Eddie since he is another F/O from Welcome Home!
I also finally have some idea of what the story of my sona is gonna be so stay tuned
I was listening to “Lay All Your Love on Me” by ABBA and “Sweet Little Bumblebee” by Bambee while drawing this so—
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vampacidic · 1 year
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hmmm might make a side blog for welcome home….. not that it’s wrong for me to put puppet horror on ye ol dash but bc i feel like it clashes with rei sakuma pfp LOL
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incase u were wondering it takes exactly 1.5 Oklahoma dream ballets to style my hair (don't ask why I watched it twice while I was styling my hair)
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alhaith4ms · 1 year
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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
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bitterkarella · 4 months
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Midnight Pals: An Evening with Charles
Neil Gaiman: i should like to invite you all to an evening of spleniferous whimsy and unearthly magic Gaiman: [handing flier to Poe] for I, Neil Gaiman, shall be performing my world renowned Charles Dickens impression Poe: [reading flyer] "Sunday Sunday don't stay home" Poe: "Elevated theater at the monsterdome" Poe: "opening act: charles dickens"
Charles Dickens: neil gaiman's doing a reading of my work in character? Poe: oh yeah i hear its real good Dickens: well, i'll be the judge of that! Dickens: what's he reading? captain murderer? Poe: i think it's going to be a christmas carol Dickens: Dickens: yeah ok i guess you could read that
Poe: guys do you think that neil will include grip in his show Barker: i don't know, maybe Poe: i really hope he includes Grip Poe: i really love grip Barker: uh huh Poe: she talks you know Barker: yes edgar we know we were all here for that
Gaiman: welcome friends to an evening of whimsy, an evening of wonder Gaiman: as you enter the fantastical imaginarium of charles dickens Gaiman: where you can be anything! Gaiman: as long as you can imagine it!
Gaiman: and now watch, gentle viewers Gaiman: as i create an enduring christmas classic from the merest wisps of fantasy Gaiman: born of the very stuff of the cosmos -- the power of imagination! Poe: what do you think? Dickens: this is exactly right Dickens: that is exactly how i did it
Gaiman: ah Grip my constant companion, consort to gods and monsters alike, messenger of odin on velvet wings Poe: [pointing and whispering to charles dickens] that's grip Dickens: [annoyed] I know
Gaiman: from my pen shall spill the words of the ages! a tapestry of strange delights, the dreams of the sages! Gaiman: but hark! what noise do i hear at my door? Gaiman: is it the dark forboding spectre of hans christian andersen? Dickens: whoa no one told me this show was gonna be scary!!
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hwaitham · 7 months
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𝓼𝓪𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝓼𝓾𝓷 ⋆ ࣪˖ 𓂃𓋜
al haitham x f!reader . sfw . established relationship ノ fluff + suggestive ノ reader is smaller than haitham ノ kaveh!! ૮꒰ིྀ˶꜆´˘`꜀˶꒱ིྀა 
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"someone's up rather early."
al haitham's kitchen is teeming with light when he walks in on saturday morning: the pots hanging from the ceiling catching the sunshine from the open window (ting! ting!), the blue flame on the gas burner that billows out along the bottom of the stone pan that rests atop it, and you.
the warmest, softest light of them all, standing there by the stove in your—his—shirt, silk strings of an apron cinched into a messy bow at your waist as you busy yourself with frothing the masala chai, turn to face your lover when his voice reaches your ears and welcome him with a cheery, "g'mornie! breakfast's gonna be ready soon."
darling angel, little sunspot in the corner of his mind.
he hums sleepily, making his way behind you and draping his broad frame over your smaller one, strong arms curled around your waist and tenderly squeezing your ribs, chin propped on your head before he leans down to nuzzle his nose into your hair—sweet and sun-warmed.
you don't need to tilt your head up to know al haitham is keeping a watchful eye as you split even volumes of the chai into three mugs, stir a tablespoon of sugar into two of them. spread ghee over the hot stone pan and wait for it to sizzle before you pour on a ladle full of dosa batter.
had it been a few months prior, you would've felt nerves from tip to toe, afraid of his silent judgement—yet here you stand now, blooming like a rose under his gaze.
it's one that's caring, tender, when he gently reminds you to watch your fingers as you're cutting an onion and to flip over the dosa so it doesn't burn.
"dosa and chai for breakfast? you spoil me."
you open your mouth to reply, but the words leave your throat as a garbled mess of stutters and little hums when al haitham surprises you with lazy kisses fluttered over your cheek, and then your jaw, trailing southbound of your neck to your décolletage.
"haitham, stoppp!" you burst into a lovely little peal of giggles when he nips at your skin—playfully, hungrily—pushing your rear back into him and shrugging your shoulders in a failed attempt to get him off you. "what if kaveh sees?"
"then he sees."
his voice is low and nonchalant, but he only holds onto you tighter, protectively, digging his arms further into your ribs as if to remind you that he's already made his home there, that he's staked his claim.
"if the sight of me loving on you drives him out of the house faster, then i may just have to do it more often."
"you meanie." you quip back and stick your tongue out at him as you transfer the crisp dosa onto a plate, reaching for the bowl of batter to make another.
a squeak escapes you before you can do so, because your lover is tilting your chin up with his finger and finally giving you a kiss where it should be given, sucking and licking at your lips, wiping a bubbled bead of his saliva off the corner with his thumb.
it's rare for your haitham to get like this—outwardly clingy with his touch, but you know him well enough to understand why he's displaying such behaviour.
"you're not still jealous from last night, are you?"
ah, yes.
last night.
celebrations at lambad's tavern after al haitham's successful demotion from acting grand sage to mere scribe—celebrations in the manner of a feast of delicacies, followed by innumerable rounds of genius invokation tcg, and concluded with pints upon pints of beer; one for the master (al haitham), one for the dame (you), and one too many for the roommate who swilled them without restraint (kaveh).
and what a sight to behold was the kshahrewar architect—your bestest friend—at the end of the night.
blonde braid mussed and his clips somehow finding their way into your hair, hiccuping and sniffling and pockets emptied beyond belief, trailing at your feet like a puppy and slathering you with sweet words and blubbering drunkenly on your shoulder:
you're so pretty, you're so kind, i really don't understand why you'd entertain a romance from someone of the likes of al haitham... i can assure you, if he doesn't get down on one knee soon, then somebody else definitely will!!
"me, jealous of kaveh? what a joke." your haitham scoffs, burying his face in your hair to hide the irritated pout on his face.
"that sounds an awful lot like something someone who is jealous would say."
"'m not jealous."
"i don't think i believe—a-ah!"
you're cut off all of a sudden—him growling into your temple and tugging you back firmly into his chest, arms unraveling from your waist to weave his fingers between your own, drawing your attention away from breakfast as he lays his love heavy on you with heated kisses to the shell of your ear, nipping and tugging and seemingly overcome with some form of carnal desire.
"i'm—" your knees wobble and knock together when he licks at a particularly sensitive spot, caging you against the kitchen countertop and leaving physical manifestations of his love over the fragile skin of your neck.
and then it becomes awfully hot in al haitham's kitchen on saturday morning, despite the stovetop now turned off and chai no longer steaming, the sun hiding behind a cloud and covering his eyes to allow you and your lover the privacy you deserve.
"i need to make breakfast—i-i'm busy, haitham..."
he hums in dismissal of your protests, mindlessly thumbing at your ring finger before he bunches your shirt up past your hips, lowers himself onto a knee and kisses up the back of your thigh—touches once possessive, greedy, now softening and sweetening into something more reverent and devoted.
"as am i."
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dsybouquet · 5 months
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welcome home ⋆·˚ ༘ * - ellie williams
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genre: post santa barbara! ellie x fem! reader, fluff fluff fluff, little angsty ? idk wouldnt call it angsty decide for yourself, comforting ellie, reuninion, crying, mentions of smoking, no baby !, mentions of panic attacks (kinda)
ellie came home with the burden of what has happened just to find you still waiting.
w.c: 1.9k
Breathing heavily, Ellie climbed up the last bit of the woods. Her limbs were heavy, her body weak. The way back to the farm was the most gut wrenching trip she ever had.
Not just because of the infected wounds on her lost fingers or the unsterile stitched up hole on her stomach. The uncertainty of what will happen, of what she’ll find when she’s home made her sick to her stomach.
Every step she took, every mile she got closer to your shared home made her want to throw up and not keep going. She wanted to run, to not return. But she couldn’t. Not before she went inside. Not before she could see what you left.
She approached the gate. The flowers still blooming although fall was slowly coming along. The colourful leaves of the trees which started to fall off - it all was so beautiful, it was just how she left it.
Oh, how she wanted to run. She felt the panic creep up. It was suffocating.
With her hands shaking, she unlocked the gate, entering the property. Slowly, she was walking towards the house. The garden was filled with pumpkins and other vegtables and too her surprise, it looked as if someone was taking care of it. Still, the chance was high that it wasn’t you.
Maybe someone else took over the house, took over the property. Maybe you were long gone and she would meet her end by someone shooting at her when she enters the house.
Or maybe it will be empty with nothing left and someone else from Jackson occasionally stopping by to feed the animal and take care of the garden. After all, you are still part of the Jackson community.
Her body was trembling when she went up the steps to the front door. She was shaking, not being able to control her breath. Her vision was blurry, like when she had panic attacks after waking up from the horrific nightmares after Joel's death.
Slowly she opened the front door. To her surprise the house was.. lively. Pictures still on the walls, the decorations still up. A slight scent of sage burning in the hallway crawled up her nose. Could it be you were still here ?
She looked around. Everything was unchanged. Just like she remembered it. Ellie silently made her way upstairs. If you were still there, she would not want you to shoot her because you thought an intruder came in. After all, she knew how you could be. Impulsive and holding a gun to the head of everyone that entered your comfort zone too quickly.
Behind a closed door, Ellie could hear a record play. 80s rock, just the type of music you loved, the type of vinyls that Ellie would happily give to you when she found them during patrol. The shine in your eyes when she handed you the The Cure record she found in a random store while being on patrol.
How come exactly this record was playing right now?
Her stomach dropped and she was about to pass out. “Fuck.”, she whispered under her breath, with her hand coming closer to the doorknob of the room. Ellie's breathing was short, she couldn't take deep breaths to prepare herself of what she'd find behind this door.
Maybe it was you. Maybe someone else. Maybe, you'd be sitting there with someone else, being happy, finding the peace you've been seeking for.
After a while, she finally got herself to open the door.
The light of the room illuminated the hallway while tears formed in her eyes. There you were, sitting on the floor in front of a canvas. A cigarette in your mouth and the brush between your fingers. You were paining, just how you used to back then. You were so focused you didn’t notice the door opening.
And you looked breathtaking. Your hair hugging your face as well as the faint smoke of the cigarette. Your eyes were piercing the canvas as you moved your brush on it. Somehow, Ellie felt like she just fell in love with you - again. Like she‘d seen you for the first time. Butterflies had formed in her stomach. You looked godsend, ethereal even.
Ellie eyed the painting. It was her. You painted her. It almost seemed like you were scared of forgetting what she looked like. On your painting, she was standing in between the sheeps, like she used to before she went on her final revenge trip. Petting the little lambs, giving the sheeps names.
She looked happy on the painting, smiling.
Suddenly, she remembered that your brain was very photographic and that memories lasted with you forever. She wasn’t surprised to see you painting this scene exactly how it was.
“Hey baby.”, she silently said, a knot forming in her throat. You dropped your paintloaded brush to the ground and blew out the smoke of your cigarette. You couldn’t look at her, too scared that it was your mind playing tricks on you.
Maybe you were daydreaming. The loneliness must have gotten to your head. You are imagining her. Shes not really there.
But then you had to take a look. Curiosity took over. You just had to know if it was really her.
And when your eyes met hers - your heart skipped a beat. Her sad green eyes which looked so tired. The scars in her face, the smile filled with sadness. She was back.
You put your cigarette in the ashtray before covering your mouth with your hands while tears formed in your eyes. “Fucking hell.”, you whispered trying to hold back tears.
“You’re here.”
“I’m here.”
Ellie didn’t approach you and you remained seated on the floor, trying to control your breath. She looked at you. You didn't change a bit, you just looked.. consumed. Dark eyebags, eyes as tired as hers. You lost some weight, noticeably even. But overall, it was still you.
You still looked like her pretty woman. The woman she left behind to seek revenge. The woman she loved ever so dearly.
Tears escaped from your eyes, staining your cheeks and hands with themselves. “You’re alive.”, you whispered after you put your hands to your head. “Fuck! Ellie you are alive.”
You got up, slowly, still scared that all of that was just imaginary. Scared that if you get too close, she’ll vanish. But she wasn’t. Even when you stood right in front of her, she didn’t dissolve into nothingness.
“Come here.”, she whispered, opening her arms for you to fall into them with a sad smile. And you did.
You held her so tight, Ellie was scared she’d suffocate. But you couldn’t care less. The longer you hugged her, the more tears escaped. You were sobbing in her arms, scared to let go. Scared that if you did, she’d leave again.
“It’s okay, baby. I’m here.” Ellie herself had tears running down her cheeks by now. Her hands slowly rubbed your back. She was relieved to see you were still here, but heartbroken to know you waited for her. And you would have waited there until your life meets an end.
All the months, you took care of the house, the garden, the animals. All by yourself just fueld by the hope of her returning. If only she could go back in time to prevent this. To stay here with you and accept the things as they were.
“I’m so glad you’re still alive.”, you whispered against her shoulder, before removing yourself from her grip to look at her. One of your hands found its way to her cheek, smudging away the falling tears.
She nodded, her heart feeling heavy as she pressed her lips together to not let out the most heartbreaking of sobs. She failed, hard. Ellie started sobbing and looking to the ground, feeling sorry and relieved at the same time.
“I’m so sorry. I should have never left. I couldn’t kill Abby. I had to let her go. And I left you alone for so long for something that was not even successful.”
Ellie broke down entirely, falling to her knees and sobbing in her hands. “I failed Joel, I failed Tommy, I failed you.” The way she was crying broke something inside you. You‘ve always wished to take this off her, to help her let go, but you have always failed.
There was no way of helping someone so deeply driven by trauma, by bloodlust. You had to let her do this and come to the realisation.
You wrapped your arms around her, comforting her silently. “Revenge is bittersweet. Let it go. Joel wouldn’t want you to risk everything just to seek revenge.”
She nodded, crying in your arms.
“I’m sorry I left you this way.”
“I promised I’d wait forever for you.”
You did.
Back in the days, back in the town of Jackson, the two of your were outside, drinking some mulled wine while staring at the stars. Nobody was by the campfire at this point. It was just you and Ellie, in the most romantic setting. You looked at her. Her freckled face illuminated by the fire, her eyes shining ever so beautifully. “I love you.”, you thought out loud, not looking away.
Ellie blushed, shooting her head into your direction. “Huh?!”
Quickly, you noticed what you just had said. “Fuck.”
Ellie looked away, not saying anything.
You felt horrible, like you fucked up the best friendship you’ve ever had. “Sorry I didn’t mean t-“
“Give me some time, ______. Please. I like you too, but I just need time.”
It was right after she found out Joel betrayed her, right in the time she was most vulnerable. And you respected that. But god, you felt stupid for saying it.
Nevertheless, you nodded.
“I can wait, no worries.”
Ellie sighed. “Yeah?”
You nodded. “I’ll wait forever if you’d want me to. Promise I’ll not go anywhere.”
She smiled slightly. “I give you that promise too.”
“Let’s get you in a warm bathtub and then to bed.”, you whispered, helping her stand up. Ellie went entirely non verbal, like she was only a puppet of herself with tears rolling down her cheeks.
You helped her get undressed and enter the bathtub. Although you wanted to ask about Abby, about the two fingers missing, about the new wounds and scars, you put it aside. You knew better, you knew Ellie needed comfort - your comfort.
So you slowly help her clean up, washing her Hair, softly scrubbing the dirt and dried up blood off her limbs, off her face. You took care of her like you always did, like you did after Joels murder, after Seattle, after bad days and trauma flashbacks. You were always there, and she left you behind like this.
“Come.”, you whispered and helped her get out of the bathtub, wrapping her fragile body in a towel. After putting fresh clothes onto her, you took her in the bedroom, helping her get into bed.
“I’m sorry I left you like this. I love you so much. I never wanted to hurt you.”, she quietly said, looking at you with tired eyes. You caressed her cheek, planting a soft kiss on her lips. The first kiss you shared in the past months. And you stomach felt like you’d freshly fell in love. You missed her so much.
“I love you too.”
Ellie closed her eyes, almost falling asleep immediately. The weight of Santa Barbara was still so heavy, she felt like she could sleep for weeks straight.
You just watched her silently, tucking her in, happy that she’s home, that she’s safe.
When you pushed yourself off the bed to brew yourself a tea, she held you by the wrist. “Don’t go.”, she mumbled, drunken in sleepiness.
So you stayed and placed yourself next to her. Your arm reached for her waist and you moved closer.
Quietly, you watched her drift of to sleep. She looked so peaceful and as beautiful as ever. Her auburn hair, still wet from the bath you gave her, was tucked behind her ear, giving you a view of her pretty face.
She was even more beautiful than how you remembered her. You noticed how you almost forgot her freckled cheeks, her little scar in her eyebrow. All these details about her were only a vague memory of yours, but now shes back. You missed her so dearly and it felt like a dream to have her back in this place with you and you were scared that if you fell asleep and opened your eyes again, it would only be a dream.
You missed having the person you loved the most next to you. Softly, you placed a featherlight kiss on her forehead.
“Sleep well, my love. Welcome home.”
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hotpinkstars · 3 months
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-> the house won't ever feel the same again
synopsis -> you and alhaitham got into a relationship-damaging fight.
w/c -> 1.3k
warnings -> hurt no comfort, alhaitham is an asshole in this, dehya is your emotional support lol, reader moves to liyue, arguing and insults, reader is an artist
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“alhaitham, please stop stressing. you cannot write twenty papers in the span of three hours. come to bed with me, dear.” 
you knew that this would happen. dating the acting grand sage of sumeru would be no easy feat. and now here he was, slumped over his desk, gripping an abnormally large mug of coffee. you telling him to stop was making the grip even harder. you noticed, and took a deep breath in.
“you know, getting angry is not going to get you anywhere. please, take my advice, and do not overwork yourself tonight.”
“can you not?” he snapped. “let me do my work.” 
this took you off guard for a second. he’s never said something like this to you before- even in your wedding vows, he promised he wouldn’t ever insult you, show major aggression to you, or put his hands on you. ever. 
“i’m simply just trying to help, dearest, please take my advice-” you stopped yourself, seeing his expression. he just rolled his eyes at you, bringing himself back into his work. you’ve never seen your husband do that, he’s always at least taken your words into regards. you try once more. “alhaitham, come to bed-” 
“can’t you tell i’m trying to do work? leave me the hell alone!” he slammed his hands on the table, making you jump back a little bit. tears were coming to your eyes, but you tried to control them. 
“what is with the sudden aggression? you have never done this before!” you raised your voice slightly to try and counter his words, trying to make yourself appear bigger than you felt you were. 
“you’re trying to interrupt me as i work. i will not tolerate it. you can wait. stop caring so much, would you?” he sighs, putting his face in his hands, running his hands up and down his head and ruffling his own hair. “leave me alone. how many times do i have to make myself clear? or is it not clear enough? are you just that stupid?” 
that sentence made you freeze. he did not at all look like he was going to take that back. you nodded and started to walk out the door before he grabbed your shoulder. you stopped once again, thinking this was him apologizing, but you turned around to find a very angry man. 
“and by the way, i’d never do that for you. that’s irritating, and your artwork isn’t worth caring for anyways. go.” 
and there was the start of many tears. you ran out in fear and sadness, wondering what ever got into him to lash out like that. you knew he could be extreme and give out major criticism, but he was never this harsh to you. you looked down at the band on your ring finger, spinning it around a few times. the good memories, your honeymoon, your wedding, and the proposal all came flooding through your mind. it made you cry even harder than you already were, if that's even possible. you slid the ring off and threw it on your nightstand of your shared home, and then was sure to make a point of moving it to his. so he could see the damage he’s caused. you packed a tiny bag and left for the night to go to your friend dehyas place. you knew she’d have some good advice for you.
after a short trek to see her, you knocked on her door, soaked from the rain. she welcomed you in with an impressively strong pat on the back, immediately noticing your puffy eyes and noticing the ring wasn’t where it was normally. 
“what happened to that ring that alhaitham married ya with? did divorce knock on your door?” she sighed. “i knew that’d happen, damned man.”
that sentence made you cry again. she immediately corrected her wrongdoings and pulled you into a strong embrace, stroking your hair. 
“alright, tell me what's the matter.”
“he raised his voice at me… he’s never done that before, dehya!!” you cried harder into her arms, and you could hear her sigh.
“that man, oh did he make a mistake. what are you going to do?” she asked, looking down at you without stopping her motions.
“i’m not sure.. i love him… but i don’t think he loves me..” you sniffled, hugging dehya even tighter now. she nodded, looking down at you in sorrow. she wishes on every star there was something she could do to make you feel better. 
“maybe you should try to talk to him. i know that’s probably not gonna do too much, but i guess it’s worth the effort…”
“but i tried that already, dehya! trust me, i tried to talk to him. and then he ever so rudely kicked me out like i was a colleague that was sent from the fortress of meropide in fontaine! worthless!” you groaned, letting your head fall dramatically on dehyas lap. 
“maybe you have to let him approach you first. give it time, it’ll probably happen.”
you thought long and hard about that night. it’s been two days since your argument, over what exactly? just because you didn’t want him to fail at his job? his papers don’t even have a near due date! if even one at all!! you sat against your bed, lightly scratching the ground with your nails. it seems alhaitham took the ring he gave you, and went back to work the next day. he probably isn’t even thinking about what happened, or so you thought.
considering, the night you got back from dehyas, you were welcomed home to him sipping on some tea, watching the television. probably some documentary about the history of the aranara. you said a slight hey, and he just looked at you, immediately making your heart sink. you sighed and walked away to the spare bedroom. the worst part was that he just let you. he didn’t seem like he cared, or willing to take back all of the insults he threw at you that night. it seemed like that night was the only thing you could think about. 
though, he feels super remorseful about the things he did and said that night. he hasn’t been able to properly focus, being logical enough to know that those words are something you’ll likely never bounce back from. you’ve already broken a paintbrush you’ve had, scratching a rip into a painting you spent hours on. he saw that when he came back home that night, gasping slightly. and that’s when the reality hit him. 
he’s currently slouching over his desk, doing something he’d never even fathom doing in a million years- doodling on his papers. he couldn’t focus, he felt he needed to make it up to you. but he’d only ignore you whenever you tried to take dehyas advice and maybe talk through it with him. he doesn’t know why he ignored you, he just thought he couldn’t talk to you properly in the moment. 
little did he know you were packing your suitcases to move into a small apartment you purchased with a fair amount of mora in the middle of liyue harbor. you told dehya about your plan, also letting her know to wait on letting alhaitham know about your plan. you were too hurt by his words, and you knew you could never be able to sleep in the same bed, nevertheless see the man anymore. you knew you were gonna be gone by dark tonight, which is plenty time before he’d get home. once you’ve packed the last of your things, you set off, taking a carriage to the chasm before being escorted by yelan herself to the harbor, tipping her a fair amount of mora for her kindness. you immediately felt more refreshed, in a new place, away from the man you’ve never known would be as toxic as he appeared to be.
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the1trueanon · 7 months
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They're going to go see the Barbie movie :3 Just a little shading and lighting practice -w- I need to work on backgrounds next 😅
Welcome Home belongs to partycoffin! The Reboot AU is by @bloodrediscream!
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Broke: I, as a lesbian, am not attracted to binary men/boys and therefore can’t do the y/n x Wally thing because he’s a binary boy :(
Woke: I can ship myself with a Fem/genderbent version of Wally!
Bespoke: Wally is already a girl, she’s just really GNC and uses he/him pronouns as well as she/her
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as8bakwthesage · 19 days
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not me having the fattest crush on Eddie and Frank respectively
it's about to get hella poly here--
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vampacidic · 1 year
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oh i think i might have a new fixation. hm
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manicpixiefelix · 4 months
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head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}
Part 1.
Summary: It had been a long time since your world has revolved around anyone but Felix Catton. He was like that; undeniably, unassumingly magnetic. You'd watched countless fawning, fairweather friends drawn into his orbit, only to be cast out when he eventually got bored of them, but not you, never you. Maybe you were a toy in the beginning, the thing they'd all called you when they were feeling especially petty, but it became clear that Felix has wanted to keep you around. You weren't a toy, you weren't family, you were a sharp and beautiful tool, too good, too useful to be put down. Your loyalty was rewarded with a life in his shape. Felix was like the sun, and you lived your life enjoying his warmth, and wanting to keep him shining.
{ masterpost }
Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader with Felix, Venetia, and implied Farleigh in this chapter. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.
Warnings: Smut (M & F Receiving (not reader)), discussions of gender set in 2003 (no slurs tho). Degrading language (reader is referred to as as dog)
A/N: 3698 words. HELLO EVERYONE AND WELCOME!! Im so excited for this, this first chapter is essentially setting up the reader's life and dynamic with Felix and the Cattons. There's some Venetia/Reader and implied Farleigh/Reader but its the casual kind of sexuality they all share in the movie, yanno? Please let me know what you think, i LOve feedback!
Taglist: @strangemaximoff @renaissance-mama @tsach @malscorner @xhoneymoonx134 @yelchinweasleylothbrok @tarriea @florencediet @butitsbetterifyoudoittoem @belladonnadarksshade @fandom-multiamory @snazzynacho @jubileexoxo @soocore @be-lla-vie @nightingale2124 @willow-sages @null4ndv0id @gracieluvthemoon @day2dream @marvellover98 @navixfr @bitxhinthecomments @daintylovers @alesunsets @noturningbacknow @d0llysposts @alilcloudy
----
You can't quite remember a time where your world didn't revolve around Felix Catton. He's rather like that; magnetic. His very aura is intoxicating, suffocating, until they're breathless and all but gasping his praises. You've seen it happen countless times since you'd first met him all those years ago.
Felix is affectionate and tactile, always yearning for contact with those around him like he has no idea how it looks from the outside. His hand around your shoulders, your waist, a kiss on your cheek, offering you a bump of coke from the back of his hand - you'd been too young when it has started for anything to seem too far when you're older. It felt only natural that you'd learned in due course the sensation of his mouth and hands on every inch of your body, just as you could name every part of him from the touch of your lips alone. Or Farleigh. Or Venetia. It was one of the many things that seemed far too normal growing up in such an insular, secluded environment. But everyone knew you were Felix's, even if he decided to share you on occasion.
Summers by the lake and Winters by the fire, Saltburn was where you found yourself when you found Felix to be your home. Months long sleepovers, and of all one hundred and seventy nine rooms, you share a bed with Felix most nights. Innocent children huddled for comfort, sharing dreams and laughter and hope for the future; adolescents turn to teenagers, and though the bed sharing continues, it does not remain so innocent.
And you are the only one to taste his hesitation the first time he ever kisses you, the only one to hear him breathless with surprised delight the first time you take his cock in your mouth since he's bored and wonders what everyone's going on about.
"What if I'm shit at it?"
"Do you want practice?"
The script is more of a formality when you're a few years into high school and both expecting to start screwing around.
Nervous, inexperienced touches easily became familiar, intimate gestures.
Its not something you talk about at school or in public, the people in your lives know you're close, but couldn't reasonably gauge the full extent beyond some schoolyard rumours... Which are technically true. But you both downplay it to most of the world. Perhaps it's about keeping up the appearance of availability; less chances to hook up with other people if they all assume you're taken.
A lot of your school life is about keeping up appearances, but that comes with the territory of being a well-to-do child of a wealthy family. At least you don't have to weather it alone.
With the amount of money your families are throwing at the schools you attend, of course you've forgotten more love showings of Shakespeare's comedies and dramas and tragedies than most students around the nation have even heard of, good only for how Felix's friend group - and you always amongst them - make fun of some of the truly awful lines.
Still, there are moments when the pretense drops. You catch each other holding reverence for the way the world speaks about love -
"You do impeach your modesty too much -" Felix is ahead of you in the maze, looking for a break from his family after Elspeth had insisted upon you all taking a trip to see A Midsummer Night's Dream in the city.
"What?" You laughed; it was getting dark, the solar fairy lights were beginning to glow amongst the imposing walls of leaves. Felix grins over his shoulder at you.
"Like in the play, remember? Near the start, Demetrius and one of the girls; you do impeach your modesty too much to leave the city and commit yourself into the hands of one that loves you not."
"Yeah but you love me, though," you laugh, and quicken your pace to catch his hand. You find yourself remembering the scene with a smile, but as the maze opens up ahead to the centre clearing, Felix slows. Pulling you close, he walks you to the wall of the maze, the strong branches and glossy leaves against your back.
"To trust the opportunity of the night, and the- the," his expression is playfully annoyed as he searches for the line.
"Something about it being deserted?" You supplied with little more than a murmur, thrill running down your spine as his body is warm, pressed against yours.
"Fuck, thanks, yeah," he breaks character for a moment with a huff of laughter, warm affection in his eyes, before that hungry, wanting look passes over him again, "to trust the opportunity of the night, and the ill counsel of a desert place with the rich worth of your virginity."
"The rich worth of my virginity?" You can't help but giggle, and Felix again breaks, if only to roll his eyes. As he pulls back, however, you wrap an arm around him, softly apologising, promising to play along. Again, he feeds you the line, and this time you lean into it, into the moment, into the intensity in his eyes. There's so much barely concealed want in his gaze, it overwhelms you, all you can think to do is kiss him.
"Your virtue is my privilege," you gasp amidst frantic kisses, wrapping your arms around him, trying desperately to remember the rest of the lines you know that you'd also been taken with in the theatre. Pulling back for just a second, you see him grinning when you take his face in your hands, "it is not night when I do see your face, therefore - something something - not night." The two of you erupt back into laughter before his mouth finds yours again, and the two of you are wrapped up in each other, blindly stumbling towards the solid statue you both know is there.
"Nor doth this wood," you find your voice again when Felix is leaning against the statue and you're making quick work of his undoing belt, "lack worlds of company, for you -" and with his belt undone, the two of you pause, taking stock of the moment. Both breathing heavily, you lean in and give him a languid kiss, your fingers looped into the waistband of his nice trousers, "for you," you murmur with a grin, lips inches from his, "in my respect, are all the world."
These are the lines that you knew without hesitation, the lines burned into your heart as you'd heard them uttered, and felt them resonate even back in the theatre. You grin, wondering if he'd wanted to hear them more than you'd longed to say them. As you kiss down his jaw, lips on his throat with intent to leave a bruising hickey, you free his cock, working your hand up and down his length.
"The how can it be said that I am alone," you kiss the hickey as it begins to bloom dark against his perfect throat, and sink to your knees before him, heart practically bursting to see the way he looks at you in this moment, all love and lust and appreciation for what you're about to do, "when all the world is here to look upon me?"
You watch others come and go from his life, watch him fuck around with other pretty elites, and had your fair share of flings too. The two of you gossip and brag to one another about your conquests, tease each other about terrible lays, or who the other has their eyes on next. There's never jealousy; as long as the other is happy, neither of you is concerned. After all, in the end, you always come back to one another.
Naturally Felix who you come out to first, the two of you sharing a smoke while playing cards by the window of his high school dorm room. Its after midnight, you should definitely be back in your own room, but the two of you have never really adhered to those rules, and the heads of your respective dorms stopped caring years ago. At the time you don't exactly have the right words to explain, but you ask him -
"Hey, you know you're a guy, right?"
He doesn't frown, but his nose gives this little scrunch as he's considering your words and his cards.
"Haven't put much thought into it, but yeah," he rearranges his cards for a moment before looking up at you with those gorgeous, brown eyes full of curiosity, "why?"
"I dunno," you shrugged briefly, as if you hadn't been struggling with for what's felt like months, "remember all those bars in France last summer?"
"Flashes of it," Felix smirks momentarily, "I'm still not sure if I believe Farleigh that he won our bet, but I suppose I'll have to trust him."
"With the amount of free drinks he was getting I'm surprised he even remembers properly," you can't help but laugh, though the moment is short-lived.
"What about it?" Felix finally prompts. For a long moment you're quiet, and the two of you finish up the round of cards.
"You know how we kept going to those underground gay bars because they didn't ask us for ID?"
"Again, vaguely."
"Some of them had these pictures on the walls of like, gays, and lesbians, and ladies with cocks, and men with tits, or big scars on their chests and bushes, and they all... They all looked really happy in those photos," as you spoke, unable to look at him, only watching his hands as he shuffled the deck. You know he's frowning, trying to follow along, but he's also not interrupting you, giving you space in what feels like an important moment, "I think I'm kind of like that."
A moment passes between you two.
"I know," Felix finally says, and you look up, surprised.
"You know?"
"We're all like that, aren't we? You, me, Farleigh, Venetia - mum keeps reminding us that she was a lesbian whenever it's even slightly relevant -" he begins to smile fondly but your surprise turns back to concern as you begin to shake your head.
"No, not like that, Fi," you sigh, and reach for the cigarette box as he begins to deal, "I don't think I fit the boy-girl thing." Once again the quiet lapses out as the lighter sparks to life. You inhale a lung full of smoke, looking out of the window to the star-filled sky, "I'm not a guy with a bush or a girl with a dick, I'm not..." You shrugged, looking at him, "I dunno what I am."
Once the cards are dealt, he finally looks at you, tips his head in that way he does when he's trying to figure something out.
"You're my best mate." He says it so simply, the faintest smile beginning to grace his lips, "you don't have to be anything if you don't want to be."
You don't realise how anxious you were about this moment until your breath comes out as a stuttering exhalation.
"Yeah?" You swallow hard, voice surprisingly weak and hopeful in the same moment, "you don't mind?"
"Kind of seems like a shit thing for me to have any strong feelings about."
"But you've known me as I am for so long -"
"Exactly; I love you, guy-girl or anything, doesn't change you," this is the moment, you realise, that you'd do absolutely anything for the boy in front of you.
"I love you too, Fi."
As he reaches across the small space for the cigarette, you lean in and kiss him before you hand it over; he's grinning as he kisses you.
It only takes a week for you to tell him about the name you'd settled on.
"I think I'm going to start going by Y/N," in the library, you, Felix, and Farleigh are getting very little work done when you bring it up.
"Changing your name?" Farleigh asks, eyebrows raised as he looks up from the same page of Heart of Darkness that he'd been reading for half an hour. You glance to Felix briefly, but he simply gives an encouraging nod to his cousin, and you, once more with your heartbeat racing, explain your relatively new identity change.
"So do we use he-she when we talk about you now?" Farleigh asks, voice genuinely confused rather than malicious. At this you give pause, you hadn't much thought about it; of course people gossiped about you, but you hadn't realised that if you were to be going forth with your new identity, you'd have to ask people to change the very language they used about you.
"I don't think so; I'm not he or she, and he-she is a bit much," you ponder, "I guess just them?"
"Hey did you hear about Y/N?" Felix stage-whispered to Farleigh, grinning. His cousin leaned in, keeping up with the bit and testing out your new name and pronouns seamlessly.
"No, what did they do?" He gasped. All you could do was chuckle, ducking your head to hide how wide you were smiling at how right it all sounded, how right it all felt to hear about yourself. With a firm nod, Farleigh sits back up, "okay, yeah, I can get with it. Y/N," he says decisively.
"Y/N does rather suit you," Felix agreed.
As you begin to come out to the rest of your friends and the school as a whole, you're surprised at how smoothly the transition occurs. You expected more resistance, more name calling, more bullying of any kind; of course there's the occasional bit of harrassment, and several people in the halls turn an unkind eye upon you, but it's been far easier than you'd expected.
Its only when you find Farleigh with a black eye that you learn that he and Felix have been getting into fights with people who've been talking shit behind your back. Of course you beg them to stop, insist they shouldn't be getting hurt on your behalf, least of all about this, but Felix smiles with a split lip.
"As if I'm going to let them get away with it."
Historically, Felix's girlfriends never seem to like you at first. Which they definitely shouldn't; it took him a few girls to remember that he shouldn't let them see him touching you so casually the way he does, more intimate with you without even thinking about it than he often was with them. It moves on, he gives them a warm smile and a teasing tone as he tells them not to be jealous-
"They're not -" a threat, you wonder as he gestures to you with a wide, open hand and smile to match, and proceeds to surprise you both, "a girl." The girl on his arm seems shocked for a minute, but everything about her eases. Your best friend, despite what people may think, is neither a liar nor an idiot. He knows what people think of him, what people assume about him and about you when they assume things one way or there other about him. The girls who he traditionally picked up liked to put him in little pigeon hole of heterosexuality, and though it wasn't true, the to correct them in instances such as that would probably harm the poor, pretty girls. Or at the very least, do nothing to quell their pretty rightful paranoia.
Because when the girl leaves his dorm before curfew that night, you slink up to his door and lean against it with the most pleased and endeared smile. As you always do.
"What?" Every time he's bashful, as if he has no idea what he's doing.
"Just love you is all, man," you tell him, grinning from ear to ear as you close the door behind you.
"Love you too, you know that," he tries to play it off, but is obviously hiding his ever-growing smile.
As you descend upon him, sitting cross legged on the bed - "I love you, I love you, I love you, Fi," peppering his face with kisses as he actually giggles and laughs and pulls you close - you wonder if you shouldn't be doing this since he has a new girlfriend. Except if he wanted you to stop, you knew he had no qualms asking you to.
He's always been the best about your identity, so you're not sure why it always hits you with a rush of euphoria when you hear him talk about you like that. Maybe it's the way confirms exactly what you're not to the world, while knowing that everything you are to him is a secret he holds precious and close to his heart.
When you get to Saltburn for the Winter, as you had for any major breaks from school as your parents were thrilled to be seeing as little of you as necessary, Duncan greets you at the door as he always does -
"Captain Y/N."
And Felix comes bounding down the red stairs, having overheard, and asking if Captain was alright, while you were overwhelmed with love at the gesture. Apparently Duncan's only reservation about the title was that it was usually reserved for military personnel, and he was something of a stickler for the rules. Still, when you thank him for referring to you as such, he grants you one of his rare smiles.
Everyone has accepted the change before you'd even arrived, and though his mother and father did occasionally slip up, they caught themselves before even yourself or Felix had a chance to correct them. Elspeth always made a show of apologising and correcting herself. After one such instance, all of you wine-drunk after dinner and squashed on several sofas together to watch some rom-com, Venetia whispers to you where she's in your lap that Felix had spent several phone calls over the past semester explaining the situation to the family, even making sure to remind everyone in the days before you'd arrives.
"He really does love you," she murmurs, "doesn't he?" The glow of the television haloed her recently bleached hair in light as her face hovered inches for yours. Out of the corner of your eye you see Felix wearing an amused smile and pointedly not looking at you. When Venetia leans in, giggling with her pupils blown wide, you kiss her back, and feel Felix put a hand on your thigh.
"Not during the movie," Elspeth says briskly. Farleigh snorts with amusement from her other side and Venetia breaks the kiss with a sharp little laugh. Still, she curls up against you now, with your arm around her, and Felix rubs circles against your thigh, hand not moving for the remainder of the film.
At Saltburn, your room was often more of a formality; the one attached to Felix's, divided only by a bathroom. Most nights were shared in another's bed, even if nothing sexual happened. Venetia especially liked these sleepover, liked how you'd be at her door if she merely implied she wanted your company. She'd invite you into her bathroom to simply talk while she bathed, neither of you bothered by the casual nudity. She'd put on a CD and sometimes a robe, and you'd brush and braid her hair; she'd talk and you'd listen, until she fell asleep in your arms. Venetia craved connection, and like with Felix, you were happy to oblige her.
"You're a good dog," she'd once murmured, your head between her thighs, "that's why he lets you fuck me." When you look up at her through your lashes, mouth still on her cunt, tounge going still on her clit, she's looking back, devilish smile on her face, "do you think about him when you fuck me?"
You lean back just a little, and carefully slide two fingers into her; Venetia's head falls back as she sighs gently.
"He doesn't have a cunt, Ven," you tell her bluntly, which of course makes her laugh until she's moaning with your fingers curling inside of her.
"Good dog," she stutters out.
"He wants you to be happy, and I can do that."
"My brother doesn't like sharing his toys," she whimpers faintly.
"I'm not a toy."
"Suppose I'll just - ah~" your thumb finds her clit, and you gently bite at her thigh, "have to enjoy you while he lets me, then."
In these quiet, intimate moments, sexual or not, Farleigh and Venetia both take to calling you 'good dog' as a term of endearment. Anyone else would probably be put off by it, but it begins to warm something in your chest; loyal and loving, the kind of creature you keep around. Felix, however, scowls when he learns about it.
"It's mean."
"I think it's sweet," you tell him with a smile, curling up against him on a sofa on one of the many balconies. Felix had been reading while you'd been napping against him when Venetia had appeared and cooed at the sight.
"They think it's sweet!" Venetia echoed with a pleased grin, sitting on the lounge chair across from you both.
"They're not a dog, they're my friend -" Felix had tried to argue.
"Man's best friend," Venetia had nodded.
"Oh piss off, Ven," Felix had huffed. Venetia had obligingly swanned back into the house while you stifled your laughter against his chest. When it's just the two of you, his voice turns soft, "you know I don't think of you like that."
"It's nothing, Fi, everyone knows you're my favourite is all."
"But you're not a dog."
You look up at him in all his glory, golden in the sunset and looking like a dream. You want to smooth the concern, the righteous anger from his brow, kiss the faint downturned edge of his perfect lips, do everything in your power to make sure he never worries again. No matter who or what you are, you are his. His best friend, his confidant, his shoulder to cry on, his partner in crime, his right hand, his, his, his.
All you can give him in this moment is your gentle voice full of absolute love;
"What do you want me to be, Fi?"
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strwbrrymlkjh · 8 months
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alhaitham x gn!reader
entering a romantic relationship with alhaitham the scribe was one thing but expecting, hoping, to maintain that kind of relationship with alhaitham the acting grand sage was another. or alhaitham asks for another chance.
tags: texts in italics are flashbacks. POV changes. angst, neglected reader, lack of communication, mention of alcohol consumption, inaccurate lore, i have no idea what alhaitham does as the acting grand sage, maybe ooc, not proofread
wc: 2.2k
AO3
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An unmistakable mop of silver hair greets you as you make your way through the hallway of your tenement. Sensing your presence, the figure turned his head to your direction and locked eyes with you. The intensity behind those familiar green eyes instantly rooted you to your spot. One look at his face was enough to bring back the painful memories you tried so hard to bury for the past month.
°
Entering a romantic relationship with Alhaitham the Scribe was one thing but expecting, hoping, to maintain that kind of relationship with Alhaitham the Acting Grand Sage was another.
Ever since his reluctant acceptance of the position of Acting Grand Sage, you rarely saw your boyfriend at home. In fact, you barely see him at all. You understand that he was preoccupied with rebuilding Sumeru and the Akademiya, yet you cannot help but miss his presence; the slow mornings where he would enjoy the cup of coffee you prepared for him, the peaceful afternoons that you would spend together reading in your living room, the dinners filled with pleasant conversations as you recounted your day. You miss him.
The sound of your front door closing jolted you awake from your nap. Sitting up from your spot on the couch, you greeted your boyfriend who just arrived home.
“Alhaitham. Welcome home.”
“Why are you sleeping on the couch?”
“I was reading, actually. I just closed my eyes for a second, and then dozed off, I guess.” You responded, chuckling weakly.
“I recall telling you not to wait for me.”
“I know, but -” I miss you. You cannot bring yourself to tell him. He was already burdened enough as is, and the last thing you would want to do is to add to his worries.
He sighed and offered his hand for you to take. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”
°
“Haitham, are you free tomorrow? It’s been a while since we visited the Grand Bazaar."
“I apologize Y/N, but I cannot come with you. I still have to review these research projects in need of funding.” He gestured to the thick bundle of papers that littered his desk.
You offered him a smile. “Alright. We can always do it next weekend.”
°
“I think I can make it in time for dinner tonight.” Is what he said.
You have no idea how long you sat in your dining room waiting for him. The food you prepared was now sitting cold at the table. Glancing at the clock, you felt a sad smile tug at your lips. Another missed dinner. You let out a heavy sigh as you started clearing away the plates you carefully arranged hours ago.
Alhaitham is a very busy man, and with everything that’s going on in the Akademiya, you knew better than to ask him to do things you used to do together.
At this point, the growing list of broken promises were too many to count.
Soon enough, all the pleasant dinners turned into late night meals eaten alone and the once warm bed became your only witness of the cold nights and the silent mornings you endured on your own.
°
After what felt like an eternity of staring at each other, he took a cautious step towards you.
“Y/N.”
Pretending you didn’t hear him, you bit the inside of your cheek and fished for your apartment keys inside your bag.
Once again, you hear Alhaitham call out your name.
You are certain that if you bite any harder, you would draw blood, but it was the only way to keep your barely composed façade from cracking.
A warm hand held your wrist as you were about to unlock the door. Startled, you pulled away as if burned. You rubbed the area, a nervous habit.
Even at a distance, you wouldn’t miss how the light left Alhaitham's eyes after seeing your reaction to his touch. The apology was at the tip of your tongue - you did not mean to pull away, you were just surprised, you wanted to tell him.
Your gaze traveled from his crestfallen face to his disheveled hair, sunken cheeks and the out-of-place cape. Looking at him now, you are certain that nobody would be able to tell that the man before you is the intimidating Acting Grand Sage of the Akademiya.
Despite yourself, you wanted to reach out and touch his face, card your fingers through his hair, wipe the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. You clenched your fist at your side to stop yourself.
A month ago, you left your shared apartment with a promise not to get pulled by his gravity again. You feel your resolve falter now that you’re in his orbit.
Green eyes met yours once more and you felt your cheeks heat up. You averted your gaze and headed for your apartment door.
“Wait, Y/N. Please. Can I talk to you? Ten minutes. No. Five. Five minutes is enough. Please, I just need to tell you something.”
You stopped in your tracks. The desperation that laced his voice reminded you of the moments when you had to fight for even a minute of his time.
°
“It was one date Y/N.” Alhaitham reasons out. “Do not make it a huge deal.”
You turned to him, a look of indignation on your face. “One date? It’s our anniversary Alhaitham. Is it really too much to ask for one dinner with you?” You exclaimed. “I looked like a fool. No, I felt like a fool waiting for you to show up. You did not even think about telling me that you couldn’t make it.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose before turning to you. “I apologize, but you are well aware that I have more pressing matters to attend to at the Akademiya.”
You did not think that your heart could break any further. You have known it for a while now; his duty always comes first.
°
Alhaitham knew that he did not have the right to be here and his presence was likely to hurt you. It was nothing new, he thought grimly. It seems that that was all he has ever done these past few months - cause you pain.
He unintentionally drove you away and now he was here, consumed by regrets yet filled with determination to do better. That is, if you give him a chance to do so.
It seems the odds are against him as he watches you rub the wrist he touched. It was one of your nervous habits. It could also be that you were trying to erase the lingering feeling of his skin making contact with yours, a voice whispered in his head.
You stood unmoving after he practically pleaded you to hear him out and it was enough to give him a sliver of hope.
He cleared his throat. “Have you been well?”
“You came here to ask me that?” You responded, the disbelief evident in your tone.
“No. I mean -” He closed his eyes tightly, willing his headache to go away. The lack of sleep was getting to him. This was not how he wanted this to go.
Gathering the will to speak again, he continued, “You weren’t answering my letters and I simply wish to know how you have been faring.”
No, these were half-truth, excuses. If he really wanted to earn another chance, he should start with being honest with you, with himself. So, he said, “I am sorry. I wanted to see you. I missed you, Y/N.”
The silence that followed his statement was deafening. He watched you study his face before he heard you ask, “Are you drunk?”
“I did have a couple of glasses at the tavern, yes. But I assure you, I am completely aware of what I am doing at this moment.” He answered honestly. “I am the worst, aren't I? I do not even have the courage to face you sober.” He bowed his head, a weak smile tugged at his lips. “Sorry, I’m just - I really am sorry.”
“Is that the reason why you’re here? To share your newfound drinking habits?” You responded coldly.
“No, I do have my reason.” He raised his head to look at you behind his blurry eyes and the sight took his breath away. “But … were you … were you always this beautiful?” He blurted out before he could stop himself. Though, it was not the alcohol speaking. It was the truth. The sun was setting behind you and it bathed you in its glow, casting a halo around your head.
He felt himself struggle for a silent breath as he took his time taking you in. “You are so beautiful, my love." The term of endearment hangs between the both of you.
You shook your head. “You’re drunk, Alhaitham.”
“I’m not.” He insisted. “I’m not. It’s just … I can’t believe I hurt someone this beautiful so deeply.” And in a quieter voice, as if talking to himself, he whispered, “I’m such a fool.”
He knows he cannot win you back like this; not with flowery words and praises of your beauty. Still, he wanted to tell you that and many other things he was not able to.
Panic welled up inside him as you shook your head and unlocked your door. Chasing after you, he had half the mind to hug you from behind to stop you from leaving. But he knew he shouldn't push his luck right now, if your reaction earlier is anything to go by.
"Y/N, please."
You turned to him. "Then, enough with the nonsense Alhaitham. Just say what you have to say and leave." Your tone was calm but he heard the slight tremble in your voice. Even now, he was hurting you without meaning to.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he said, "What I wanted to say is that I am sorry. I know I have countless things to apologize for and I … I cannot express how sorry I am. The word 'sorry' is not good enough." He looked down, ashamed of himself, a Haravatat scholar not having the right words to convey his intentions.
He wanted so badly to tell you how much he regrets taking you for granted and to let you know that since you left, all he could think about is you. Even when he somehow manages to stop doing so, everything he looks at seems to hold a piece of you and you invade his thoughts once more, as if you never left in the first place.
Your favorite mug sitting untouched in the kitchen cupboard reminds him of the coffees you used to make for him. The books gathering dust at his study bring back memories from when you would sit beside him, warm body pressed against his as you read your own books. The bed which was too big for one person makes him think about how lonely you must have been, spending those cold nights and silent mornings alone.
He lays awake at night in that same bed, haunted by the defeated look in your eyes the day you decided to end your relationship, or what's left of it. You were tired of fighting for a place in his life, you said.
The logical part of him argued that you were both better off this way. As long as he was the Acting Grand Sage, he knows that he cannot be the man you need, the man you deserve.
But here he was, hoping that you would still have him, because there's no one else for him but you.
"I - I am so sorry." He has no idea how many times he has uttered that word now. "For taking you for granted, for not fighting for you, for letting you go so easily. Y/N, I love you so much. I don't think it's possible for me to love anybody else." He confessed.
His hands itched to wipe the tears that streamed down your face. Gauging your reaction, he took a tentative step forward. "I know that I have no right to ask this from you, but Y/N … can you let me stay by your side again?"
°
Your heart was racing, everything around you was spinning. Contradicting thoughts were swimming inside your head - you wanted to say yes because you still love him, but at the same time, you wanted to push him away because you're afraid of getting hurt again.
You did not notice the tears freely cascading down your face until a hand wiped them away. Looking up at him, you said, “I don’t know Alhaitham. With the way things are between us …” You trailed off.
He reached for your trembling hand and brought it to his lips. “I never stopped loving you, even if my actions made you think otherwise. Let me prove it to you.”
Seconds pass without any response from you, Alhaitham speaks again, "You do not have to give me an answer now. Take all the time you need. I can wait." His grip on your hand tightened before letting go. “You should go inside now. It’s getting late.”
You nodded absentmindedly. He took a step back and you instantly missed the warmth that his body has to offer. You stepped inside your apartment, but for some reason, you cannot close the door while he is still there.
“Thank you for hearing me out. I meant every word I said, Y/N. I’ll wait for you, no matter how long it takes.”
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