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#yandere genshin fanfic
genshin-side-piece · 9 days
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Hazy Shade of Winter (Part 1)
Warnings: Yandere Content, Implied Kidnapping, Implied Captivity, Implied Stalking, Implied drug use, Mentions of alcohol, ]Non-Consensual Touching, my bad writing, anything else I missed, 18+, Minors DNI
A/N: Slightly (?) OOC Wriothesley. I think. I'm honestly not sure. But fair warning just to be safe.
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You awoke to a loud clang. The sharp noise reverberated through your drowsy skull, pulling you from the heavy slumber that had kept you under until this time. Cloudy thoughts were covered by a heavy layer of fog, making it difficult for you to focus. You couldn’t place the source of the sound. Metal had connected with metal, making it distinctly foreign to you. In all the years that you had lived in the Court of Fontaine, you had never heard anything make such a racket. It was doubtful such a disturbance would be tolerated by the general population, let alone your neighbors. The harsh, cutting quality was enough to wake the dead, yet there were no screams that followed it. Just an echo that quickly faded and the sound of air being pushed through pipes.
Air being pushed through pipes? 
The mental fog lifting enough for you to flinch at the bitterness that rested on your tongue. Heavy and salty and altogether awful. Your stomach involuntarily wretched at the taste. You tried to use what little saliva you could muster in the hope that you could wash it away, but that too was in vain. The taste just lingered without any hope of it going away. “Here” The injection of the rich male voice into your world briefly snapped you of your stupor. Out of everything, whether it be the metal or the pipes or the lumpy mattress that was not yours, the most out of place was that voice. You lived alone. When you had returned home last night, at least the small bit that you could remember, you had sworn you had been alone. The two at the bar, who had turned a relaxing cocktail for one into a pub crawl, were nowhere to be seen.  You had been wandering the streets of the court alone. Slipping and stumbling the entire way, but at last check, you had been on your own. So where had the man beside you come from?
You blinked up at him, ignoring the glass of water he was offering you. Your hazy mind was too preoccupied with trying to place him. You knew him, no, you’d seen him before. Recently. Had he come into your place of work? No. Perhaps it had been in a shop or on the street? Narrowing your eyes at him, you thought it might be, but it still didn’t explain why he was here. Looking past him, it didn’t explain why you were clearly not at home. The patchwork metal walls and dim lights were a far cry from the plaster embellishments and glass lamps of the court. Though, they seemed to match, if not enhance the scarred facade of the man beside you. “My apologies for the rough awakening.” He shifted, the chains of his attire moving with him. The clanking sound that filled the room as he set the glass of water to one side grated on you. It pierced through the air, causing the throbbing in your head to get worse. “That stuff in your system packs quite the punch.” What? You turned away from him trying to make sense of that statement. What stuff? You couldn’t make heads nor tails of what he meant by the word stuff. “I told them to take it easy on you, especially since they were already plying you with alcohol, but it seems they didn’t heed my warning. You’ve been out for close to an entire day.” Your entire body involuntarily lurched at that news. What? An entire day? How could that be? You’d gone home hadn’t you? His vague references didn’t mean anything, because they hadn’t happened. That was the only logical explanation you could muster. “I was actually getting slightly worried. The head nurse was under the impression something else might be amiss. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to know you’re okay. Though, I suppose she’ll still recommend some restorative treatments.” He made a face, one that echoed both dread and disgust. “I’ll do my best to spare you, but you may have to humor her some. Just for the sake of your relationship with her. I’d hate for you to get on her bad side at the start. It doesn’t make for a comfortable living arrangement if we don’t get along.” You blinked. The casualness of that statement seemed out of sorts given your present situation. How could he speak of relationships or living arrangements when you had no clue as to where you were and who he was? This wasn’t your home. You didn’t live here. Unless- 
Your eyes darted around the room again. A foreign place. A bed, a place to refresh yourself, a strange arrangement with an even stranger man. The effects of the stuff you had been given cleared just long enough to allow you to realize the gravity of your situation. 
The reaction that followed your epiphany was almost an involuntary one. Your entire body disregarded your drug induced hangover long enough to make the sorry attempt at fleeing. You tried to leave the bed, but the man who later introduced himself as Wriothesley was quick to stop you. His thick heavy arms had come around you before you had even fully sat up, effectively keeping you right where he wanted you. There was a struggle. Despite your queasiness and your pounding headache, you fought him. You twisted and turned in his grasp, desperate to get out of it, desperate to get away. He only tightened his hold on you, cooing reassuring words at you like one would to calm a frightened animal. The notion that everything would be alright. That you just needed time to adjust to your new surroundings. That he would take care of you from now on caused you to retch. How could he say such a thing, when you’d had no choice in the matter? Your life up until this point had been average, bordering on boring, but otherwise fine. Who was he to say that it needed changing?
At some point, after what felt like hours, he let you go. Wriothesley put some much needed space between you, allowing you to absorb the facts he chose to tell you about your situation without the burden of him being wrapped around you. His weight, coupled with the explanation that he had oh so nicely prepared for you would have been a cumbersome thing.  It was as you had fear. You had been abducted, but by whom was far worse than you ever could have imagined. It would have been enough if he had been some lord or even a high ranking member of one of the crime families. You would have a level of recourse then. If you managed to get free, you could charge him. You could have him sent away. In the end, there would be justice. With Wriothesley, that wasn’t possible. Though he carried the title of Duke, he was for all intents and purposes King of your new home. Immune from both the laws of the court and the justice you found yourself beginning to crave. It was a cruel twist on what was proving to be a brutish situation. You could only sit there in silence after he finished, smoldering as your fate washed over you. 
“You’re taking this quite well.” You blinked, trying to quell the rage that had been building since you had first woken up. The fact that he sounded legitimately surprised did nothing to help your mood or the growing urge to claw his face to shreds. How did he expect you to take it? Did he think you would make a scene? Had he gotten out of bed thinking he would hear screaming and wailing coming from the general vicinity of your door?  You rolled your eyes in response to his praise, choosing to turn them away from him. The wall next to you seemed infinitely more interesting than the man who was blocking your only exit. “Come on.” He shifted ever so slightly, the chains on his outfit moving with him, rattling as they settled back into place. “I had to.” He had to. You let out a silent huff at the lame excuse. He was the Duke of Meropide. The only thing he had to do was maintain order in the fortress. Last you checked, having someone spike your drink with a heavy sedative and stripping you of everything you owned was not a part of his duties. Yet here you were, in a strange bed, locked in a strange room, with only a cotton shift to your name. You could only guess that the slim comfort of the bed and modesty of the shift ought to be viewed as a gift, considering he could have left you nothing at all. That fact did little to assuage the fire that was currently shooting through your veins. The sheer audacity of the entire situation was enough to make you want to claw his eyes out. The actual act though would involve you having to acknowledge his existence. An action you weren’t keen on following through with.
He moved again, this time the hard rubber soles of his boots scraped against the metal floor. They stopped after a few seconds, only to be followed by a creak of metal that came from the general direction of the footboard. From the corner of your eye, you could see Wriothesley leaning against it. He obviously wanted a closer look at his hard won prize or maybe he just wanted to test the proverbial waters. You weren’t entirely sure and you weren’t in the mood to find out. Instead you held your focus on the wall, beginning to mentally count the bolts as a means of drowning him out. 1..2.. The bed groaned as he shifted his weight again. 13..14..There was another rattle of chains followed by a soft thunk against the floor. That had to be his jacket. God he wasn’t getting undressed was he? Surely Wriothesley wasn’t callous enough to abduct you and force himself on you within the same day, was he? The memory of him holding you down came back. A cold shiver shot down your spine at the very idea of it, of him using his weight to do more than just restrain you. 27..28.. The bed groaned for a third time, followed by more footsteps. These drawing ever louder, ever closer. Your heart began to slam against your ribcage as he stalked you, closing the short distance between you. The cold that had made it’s way down your spine began to ebb through you with every step he took. The louder they got, the sharper the chill that raced over your skin. You swallowed hard, trying to calm the shivers that were flowing across you like waves. You could hear him now, goosebumps raising all over your skin when the jingling of his handcuffs was so near to your ear. 41.. The footsteps stopped. Above you, he hummed, the rough flesh of his hand slowly wrapping itself around your chin. On instinct, you broke contact with the wall, trying to get away from him, but his nails scraping against your chin stopped you. You whimpered as his jagged nails bit into your flesh forcing your attention firmly back to him. It took almost no strength on his part to force your head in the direction he wanted, yet he still used slightly more than was necessary, just to get his point across. His fortress, his captive, his everything. You held no power here. Not now, not ever.
“For future use and reference.” You swallowed again as you were forced to stare up into those piercing eyes of his. “I don’t care for being ignored. Especially when I’m addressing someone.” Wriothesley tilted his head, a soft smile permeating his lips as he brushed his thumb over your chin. “But I’ll make an exception here.” His tone, which had been annoyingly cocky up until this point, faded into something slightly gentler. Something you could almost mistake for understanding, possibly even empathy for your current situation. A deceptive tactic on his part. Something to play into the fear that was still racing through your entire body and ease you into forgetting that your entire reason for being here was standing before you. Had you just only woken up or maybe if you had still been under the influence of the sedative, it might have worked. You might have bought it. But your benevolent captor had waited a hair too long. He had given you enough time to get your wits about you and because of that, you could catch him in the lie before it was too late. “You have every right to be angry, especially today. I can’t take that away from you.” His hot breath fanned across your face, causing you to momentarily flinch. The sensation was in direct contrast to his eyes, which matched the chill that was coming up through his fingers. The cold that radiated from his skin hurt to the point that it burned. You squirmed in his grasp, trying to get away from those unrelenting fingers of his, but it was no use. He had a firm, to the point of punishing grip on you. One he had no intention of loosening any time soon.  “I’ll be generous and give you today.” He paused, thinking it through. “Actually, I’ll give you until after my morning meeting. I can’t accuse you of breaking my rules if you aren’t aware of them and unfortunately, I can’t explain them or my expectations to you right now. So consider this a pass, free of charge.” You wanted to spit on his definition of generosity. He would get the rest of your days to ruin what little life he allowed you to have, yet you were expected to process everything that had happened and would happen to you in an hour? The inequity of it was ridiculous. “Oh don’t look at me like that.” He offered you a cocky smile, the confident tone returning. “If you’re good, I’ll bring you something nice to eat later.” You had to wonder what he meant by good. Aside from the bed, the only other items in the room were a sink, a toilet, and what looked to be a crude form of a shower. Short of soaking your bedding or possibly the mattress, you weren’t entirely sure what kind of trouble you could cause. He had purposefully limited your options to doing more harm to yourself than him. If he was as clever as he had shown himself to be, Wriothesley wouldn’t give you much chance to hurt him directly. 
With time things might change. He seemed like he had the ability to soften. Much of the sarcastic act you were seeing was exactly that, an act. If you played your cards right, might he give you an opening to hurt him, but it wasn’t like it would be worth it. The investment for the opportunity would take months and that’s if he ever opened himself up for the shot. If he did, and you were able to take it, the wound wouldn’t be a deep one. It would be superficial at best. A minor inconvenience for him. The hell he could bring after it was enough to end those thoughts before they went any further. The punishment that would follow for the impertinence of trying would be far worse than anything you could even attempt to do. For now, it was easier to acquiesce to some of his demands, at least until you could see how much rein his rules and expectations would give you. “I wish I could stay.” He let out a whimsical sigh. “How nice it would be for us to get better acquainted over the course of the morning, but-” He sighed heavily. “Duty calls.” He pressed your face a little harder, adjusting his grip so he could bunch your cheeks. The discomfort, along with the gentle rocking of his hand pulled what you knew would be many squeals out of you. He only laughed, bending down slightly so he could coo at you. “You’re so ungodly precious.” Wriothesley sighed again, lovingly regarding you for a moment. The notes of affection and pride that were evident on his face made you want to slap them right off of it. “Aw look at that glare. Still angry huh?” A very undignified puff of air through your nose was your only response. One that was matched by a shit-eating grin from him. “You’re cute when you’re angry. Though, you’ll have time to sort through it while I’m gone.” He paused for a beat. “Why don’t you start us off on the right foot and give me one of your charming smiles before I go. I know you’re angry, but it’ll help me get through the monotony of the next few hours.” He let out another chuckle, one of his fingers loosening slightly so he could run it across the base of your cheek. “Now that you’re with me, I may need it all the time.” 
You could do nothing but stare at him as you felt your blood pressure spike even higher. Was he serious? Did he really expect you to smile at him after all he had put you through? It was hard to believe. Clever he may be, but in touch with reality, he certainly was not. Thanks to his actions, you doubted if you would ever smile again. “Come on sweetheart.” He tightened his grip on your chin again, giving it a little shake. You flinched, but that was all. The last thing you wanted was to give him the satisfaction of pulling another sound out of you.  “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” Something dangerous flashed in his eyes, his once confident tone dropping an octave as you refused to follow another one of his orders. For a brief moment, you saw the man who had actually had you kidnapped. His amiability was little more than a tool. It was conditional on whether he got what he wanted. If it failed, that tool would be swapped in for something altogether different. That would happen with every infraction. When one tool failed him, he would simply try another. He would keep doing so until he found what worked best. Whether that was pain or pleasantries, you could tell it didn’t really matter to him. Just so long as he got his way.  “It’s just a smile.” His tone had captured the chill that you had become numb too. You nearly shivered from it, but you were able to stop yourself in time. His request was a simple one. An easy one. It required a minimal effort on your part, but it would ultimately be a gain for him. Right now, all he wanted was a smile. A small, yet significant sign that you were willing to obey him. That his deception tactics and attempts to get you to trust him had worked. If you followed through on it, then that gave him license to ask for more. The more you gave him, the less you could refuse later on. Your willing obedience would bring an expectation of behavior with it. One he would never let you forget. 
Smile, speak, sit, stand. They were all commands that you imagined he would eventually expect you to learn and perform at his whim and pleasure. He had already made it abundantly clear that you had very little choice in the matter. Yet you refused the command all the same. If he could test the waters, so could you. Your eyes just fixed on his, glaring up at him in utter defiance of his order, daring him to try and frighten you further. “Hm.” He tapped a finger against your jaw, causing you to blink. “Seems like I’ve got some work to do with you. A shame really.” He tilted his head in the other direction, heavily exhaling through his nose. “But maybe some time alone will change that.” Wriothesley broke eye contact first, looking around the room for a moment before those eyes of his found yours again. “I did say you could be upset at me, so by all means, be upset.” He gave your face one final squeeze before his hand fell away and you were finally able to put some much needed distance between you and him. An action that didn’t go unnoticed by him. His displeasure as you shuffled away from him was evident. “When I return though -” He planted a hand on his hip. “I expect that to be the end of it.” He paused looking away for a second. “Or at the very least.” He looked at you again. “We have a polite conversation about the future.” You wanted to ask what future? Did he expect you to politely discuss the future he had stolen from you? The one where you were happy and oblivious to the monster that lurked just below the waves. The same one who had seen fit to breach the safety of the shore, just so he could pull you under. 
Or perhaps he meant the other future. The one where you were forever sealed beneath the unforgiving sea. Bound to a man you found neither desirable nor worthy. Forced to smile and obey and be little more than a pet until death saw fit to take either him or you. A horrific, abysmal future that not even the gods themselves would save you from. How could you expect them too, when he had taken you beyond where any of them could ever hope to hear? That was the hard reality of life within the walls of the Fortress of Meropide. A place to abandon the lost, the forgotten, and the unwanted. It was the dumping ground of the world above. A den so rife with vice and sin that not even the gods themselves could ever hope to sort it out. According to many it had improved since the new administrator had taken over. He had ended the corruption and the chaos that had plagued what many had termed the tin hell. Yet miraculously, even with Wriothesley’s efforts it was still a place where the gods found it all too easy to turn a deaf ear to the screams and the cries of the repetent as they echoed up from beneath the waves. Here there were no gods. No heros. No saints. Here there was only hell. Only the sinners. Only Wriothesley to save you from it all. In the span of a night, under the witness of heavens above, he had become your god. 
All you could do was stare back and question how benevolent your new god would actually be.
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mayullla · 7 months
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Title: There is no love here.
Character(s): Neuvillette (Genshin Impact)
Summary: It was an arranged marriage between you and Neuvillette and you promised him the day before the wedding that you would not cause trouble for him nor be disloyal however you would also never love him. Warnings/tags: Yandere themes, fem!reader, arrange marriage, one-sided love, unrequited love, lil angsty, 2.6k words Part 2 here! But he didn't want to let go.
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He was your husband for a very long time, long before a child's grandfather was born into the world. Yet you and he never had that loving relationship that humans have between a husband and wife. He was too busy and lacked the emotional care you needed when you were given to him as a bride by your parents who thought this was for the best.
You age slowly compared to humans, you have the luxury to take your time as you watch humans try their best to live the most with what they have. It was a kind of beauty in your eyes, the determination in those of shorter life spans than yours. And it was a fear that your parents harvested in their hearts.
For they wanted you happy and satisfied as time slowly passed by. They didn't want you to face the pain of losing someone you loved so much all because you fell in love with someone who didn't have a long life span, that while you looked young and loveable your lover would become old and tired. 
That was something that Neuvillette knew when your father worked right alongside him. Your father told him about you, and about his worries. All he wished was for you to be with someone who could care for you for as long as you lived.
It was Neuvillette who offered this arrangement something that delighted your parents. That you and he would marry and in return he would make sure that you would never have your needs and wants unfulfilled, instead as long as it was not impossible nor illegal in the eyes of the law you would have everything you want in your hands.
You were shocked when you heard you have been engaged to someone who you barely even know. You struggled but in the end, you relented when so much was stacked against you.
You asked Neuvillette the day before the wedding why he chose to marry you. Hopefully with a reason it could make it easier for you to love him but when you saw his face bare without emotions you knew it was not love.
You could not help but flinch when you heard his reason, the reasons why he chose to marry you all for the sake of your parents' worries. Loyal and trusted subordinates of his, he wanted to give them something, to rest their anxious minds when they had supported him many times in the past. You understood that it was never between you and him, you understood that there could be no love in this relationship.
Calmly you told him that you would marry him, that you would not cause trouble at the wedding in front of many nor would you trouble him after marriage. You told him that after the wedding you would never cheat on him nor would you even be disloyal. However, you also told him that you would never look at him as a lover. You would respect him for who he was but you would never love him. 
Neuvillette was silent as he watched you leave through the doors after respectfully saying your goodbye and leaving his office.
The wedding had gone without a hitch, and the people clapped in congratulations. The man that they respected, Chief Justice Neuvillette, had finally gotten married. It was on the front covers of newspapers and articles for weeks. It was rowdy in the Court of Fontaine, many women cried their tears out that it wasn't them who walked down the wedding aisle while others talked about how beautiful the couple was together, or how the news said that the hydro archon had given them her blessings.
Yet while the city was bustling about the news of the newlywed couple, the house where the lived couple was silent as stone. Neuvillette had granted your request that you and he would have separate living quarters. Your own bed and your own room, your privacy away from the man you wed a mere few days ago. The honeymoon was decidedly skipped, as Neuvillette was a busy man too busy at court to even have time for something like that. It was preferable that way, you thought to yourself rarely did you have to meet him apart from breakfast and dinner. 
Furina commented about it as she looked at Neuvillette but closed her mouth when he explained the reason that he could not rest when justice needed to be served. He didn't explain anything more than that for that was between you and him.
And it was like that for years, Neuvillette had given you everything you supposedly want. From luxuries and delicious food to dresses and pieces of jewelry and tickets to events and more. You always thanked him for his thoughts yet when you looked at his gift it was obvious in his eyes that this was not what you wanted nor did you ever think that this was something that he himself picked.
It was simply something he got, thinking that it was expected for a husband to shower his wife with presents whenever he got the chance.
Still, you wore the dresses and accessories and attended the VIP shows and exclusive events with the pass and tickets he gave you. You smiled when reporters and curious people approached you. When they asked about you and your relationship with Neuvillette you would coat the truth with syrup and sugar. It was still the truth that he got you the hat that you wore or the front-row seat ticket to that popular theater show but they need not need to know what it was like within the house, aside from the presents that he gave you, aside that you would rather prefer it that way when they comment of his lack romance as you go alone to such events without him by your side.
It was rare after all that more often than not whatever plans he made would be canceled due to his busy schedule.
You prefer to keep it this way, that you would be satisfied enough with this much already having thrown all fantasies and daydreams of this loving relationship ever since that day before the wedding. Neuvillette though... for him it was different.
He lacked an understanding of human emotions so these feelings within his chest as he looked at you slowly unknowingly creeped up to him seeping within his body as his veins absorbed these feelings. It wasn't a sudden realization nor a surprise bomb bursting in his chest. Neuvillette would say it was akin to something like an empty lake barren and dry suddenly had a small stream slowly start to fill it up again yet was never noticed.
You kept your promise that you made a long time ago, that you would never cheat on him, and that you would not cause trouble. You were respectful, as you sat beside him at the dining table eating quietly. If he had awkwardly tried to open up a conversation with you, you would take the reins for him and start a small conversation between the two of you. He was always left with regret after those conversations when it was quickly cut short due to an empty plate or when one side had plans or trials they had to attend to.
Sometimes you would visit his office, staying there for a while as you made him tea, also plating the sweets that you have bought before coming here, and then sitting quietly on a sofa in the office reading a book with your own plate of desserts and tea. He had become rather comfortable by your presence near him in those days, finding it sometimes much easier to concentrate when you were there. He was mildly disappointed when you would leave when a garde would come rushing in with something of an emergency or when an important matter needed to be discussed between him and someone else. He would watch you leave, your back facing him not once did he ever see you look back.
It hurt him more than he himself knew.
When did it start to feel like waves crashing in his stomach, a whirlpool that was pulling his organs and lungs? As he arrived home late only to see you waiting for him in the living room, sometimes reading or other hobbies that you had in your personal time. Looking up you heard the front door open and heavy steps, you greeted him casually with a yawn. The first time you did this surprised Neuvillette, as he asked you why you didn't go to sleep when it was so late at night. It was a half heart answer, stating that you were his wife asking if he ate. If he did eat then you would head to your room after asking him about his day and if he didn't, you would head to the kitchen making sure there was food on the table before leaving again.
Leaving him in the middle of the hallway or kitchen late at night alone. He wasn't sure if he would be better off if you didn't do this then maybe the feeling would feel as hollow, as lonely in his heart.
Sometimes he caught himself staring at the picture frame of you and him that was placed on his office table. It was something that many humans did and something he decided to follow. The smile on your face as you looked at the Kamera while holding his arm. You looked happy here most would say, yet Neuvillette could see how empty your eyes were.
The same eyes that he saw every day even after years flew nothing has changed at all, not once. They were empty, hollow, lacking that spark that he saw many couples have, that shine that many older married couples have toward each other. That love and affection that showed brightly in their eyes was empty in yours. Instead, you looked happier, more at peace, and relaxed when he wasn't there. The shine in your eyes brightened as you read an interesting book or found something that interested you. 
He saw the yearning in your eyes as you watched others express their affections to one another, their plans and hopes that were made together in front of the fountain. Only for your eyes to dull again when he called out your name. 
When did it start to drive him insane...
When did he start to have this frustrated feeling in his chest? Never once did you look at him with distaste or hatred. You always put an effort to follow him, his plans, and his beliefs. Conversation wise you were also patient with him, teaching him sometimes when he doesn't understand something. Not once did you or him ever fight the many years you were together, unlike the many trials he watched between angry lovers.
There was no love, no affection. Like you promised you told him that you would respect him you would also never love him. In front of others, you would link hands and arms with him, as was expected from most couples in the eyes of the public, especially when they were as mainstream as the two of you. But it was never more than that.
Neuvillette was curious as to what it was like when he saw the "lovey-dovey" couples, and what it would be like if you loved him like that. Some would wrap their arms around their love, some stealing kisses when they thought no one was looking. He would watch the husband's protective hold over his wife's waist, or how they would softly smile at each other when their eyes met.
But that wasn't meant for him.
You knew of his tears, the rain that fell from the sky. You were a being with a long life while younger than him you knew who he was. Those days when the dark clouds stayed in the sky a little longer than usual you become more caring as you stayed by his side speaking finally when he spoke. Sometimes you wouldn't ask him what was the matter instead changing the topic to something more light-hearted, to keep his mind off it sometimes you would ask him which were most of the time few.
But in the end, after a while… you would always leave him. Problem solved, for the most part it was true yet Neuvillette wished you would stay a little longer.
He watched you, as you spoke and he could not help but wonder if it was only him who started to love you. Neuvillette thought that maybe after all this time maybe, just maybe there would be something, he had heard of how some people could develop feelings towards someone they once disliked after seeing them often.
Yet when he looked at your eyes there was kindness, but rather than love, there was pity, a sense of responsibility.
He must have been a fool to think that.
He must be insane to become like this, as the rain continued to fall from the sky he stared at his home where he saw you by the window. The curtains were closed but he could see the silhouette of your figure looking down at a book as you drank your tea. From here, you looked peaceful, from here he could see that you were satisfied with what you had.
However, he was not.
His heart was shaken, as silent words whispered in his ears in his mind. That you would never love him, that the only reason why you were here was because you were forced to. You didn't choose to be with him but instead chose to accept the fact that you were forced to marry him. Neuvillette felt as if the floor could crumble any moment, that any moment whatever you and he had would crumble into nothing. That one day you could fall in love with another man, and look at him with not only respect but love and adoration that he never had.
It made his heart bitter and hurt as anxiety consumed him. He didn't want you to leave. He didn't want you to leave his side. He ignored your surprised look when he held your hand tightly when you looked away from him in your walk. For a moment you looked away from the front and looked at the couples and people that he unconsciously tightened his grip on your arm. For a moment you thought you saw his face hurt, as anxiety swirled in his eyes.
He loved you so much. He loved you so much that he was scared.
As you sleep so peacefully in your bed, deep in your slumber you didn't hear the sound of steps that walked towards your bed. Sharp blue eyes that you once called beautiful, much to his surprise in the past, looked at your sleeping frame as his fingers pushed the strands of hair that covered your face.
Neuvillete watched you sleep, in your world that didn't have him in it. He wished that he could follow you, he desperately wished that he was within your beautiful eyes. That you would love him just as much as he loved you. He didn't want you to leave him, even if you wanted he didn't think he would be able to let you go. It would be impossible to let you go unless you wanted the world to rain till the whole of Fontaine to become nothing more than a lifeless sea.
Neuvillette could not let you go, even when guilt would be the one who kills him he would never let you go.
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vivalabunbun · 5 months
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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
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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. 
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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. 
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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. 
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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. 
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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. 
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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. 
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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.
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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. 
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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. 
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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. 
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bedoballoons · 7 months
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Yandere Tighnari, Venti, lyney, Freminet and Aether finding out Reader isn't really into short guys They're into someone bigger and taller {{Itto For Aether, Alhaitham for Tighnari, Nevillete for both Lyney and Freminet and Zhongli for Venti}}
I READ THIS AND WAS LIKE YESSSSSS!!! (As a short person I find this hilarious and your idea is literally genius!) I hope you enjoy and thank you so much for your request!
─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─
{༻~Just not that into short bois~༺}
CW: Yandere themes!, characters are obsessive to the point of wanting to harm others so they can't take you, unrequited love, intense jealousy, mild angst! Lyney makes Neuvillette disappear! Also this is much longer than I meant it to be...what can I say, I like yanderes!
(Includes: Lyney, Tighnari, Venti, Freminet, and Aether!)
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
𑁍༄Lyney:
Lyney had been told no many times in his life,in fact he couldn't even count how many people said he could never be a famous magician...and yet he'd proved every single one of them wrong. He simply couldn't stand not working towards something everyone else claimed was impossible, because in his eyes anything was possible, so when you confided in him about your feelings towards Neuvillette and stated that you found him more charming because of his height, even going so far as to mention you didn't really like short men as much...he just couldn't give up so easily.
He was madly in love with you, to the point it had become more than obsession, he'd seek you out anytime he'd left his home and any show he'd make sure to wink at you the moment his eyes met yours, he was so head over heels for you that he was physically unable to think about anyone or anything else. This also meant he wouldn't let anyone take you...especially just because they were taller...absolutely not.
So for his next show he planned something extra special, a magic trick truly wonderful in everyway...and as the crowd cheered, watching in awe when the box that had contained the chief of justice disappeared before their very eyes...none of them were aware he wouldn't show back up again...at least not for along while. Not until Lyney had found a way to make you love him, not until you...the most precious beautiful thing in all the world...was his.
𑁍༄Tighnari:
Tighnari stood next to you, his ears drooping with regret as he watched you flirt away with Alhaitham, his tall muscular figure drawing you to him like a moth to a flame...making you completely forget about the one who'd brought you together in the first place. It was like some cruel trick of fate...especially considering Tighnari had planned to confess his feelings for you that same day...and now it seemed like it would do no good..
He tapped your shoulder, not waiting for your response as he intertwined his hand with yours, pulling you away from Alhaitham as quickly as possible...and silently hoping you'd leave the whole situation at that. You on the other hand were not so happy with him, wanting desperately to continue your conversation with the handsome scribe..., "Tighnari what was that about? I was really getting along with-" He put a gloved finger to your lips, making you go quiet, his heart racing as he looked deep into your eyes.
"I love you...so much. I can't even really wrap my head around my feelings because they are so intense...it's like I need you just to keep going...like you're the thing I simply cannot live without. Even the air I breathe isn't as important as you are...." His confession was a bit much to say the least and adding to it was the kiss he placed on your forehead, causing you to jerk away from him.
"I'm sorry...but I don't feel that way for you..." Your words spilled out before you could stop them, your heart racing with fear at the change in his mannerisms...he didn't even respond...he just stood there...like he was plotting something and you...were about to find out just how crazy his love for you actually was.
𑁍༄Venti:
"I actually do have feelings for someone."
The second those words left your lips Ventis heart began to race, his mind clouded over with thoughts of you confessing to him and telling him you loved him...it was all he wanted. No, it was all he needed! He tried his best to calm himself down, taking a sip of wine before responding like someone who was completely clueless of the others feelings would, "Oh ho ho and who would that lucky person be hmm?"
A blush coated your cheeks followed by a sweet flustered smile that could make even Lord Barbatos swoon and boy was he...until you answered, "I like Mr. Zhongli~" You giggled nervously, not noticing how pale Venti went the second he heard the name...how the part of the wine bottle he'd been holding had shattered, much like his heart...you didn't even notice the hurt tone of his voice when he asked, "What does that old blockhead have that I don't?"
The question definitely took you by surprise, but you assumed he wasn't being serious and decided to answer truthfully, "Well he's a bit more refined...and I like his voice, but most of all he's so tall! I'm sorry Venti but I just can't imagine myself with someone...so tiny." The anemo archon was speechless...hatred seeping into his very being and jealousy getting the better of him. He stood up without another word and left, leaving you wondering what had happened...
𑁍༄Freminet:
Freminet was completely silent, his face bright red and burning with a rage he'd never felt before, his hands barely able to keep steady as jealousy ate away at his once calm heart heart. All he wanted was you...your love, that sweet smile that he craved to see everyday, but here you were, sitting Infront of him with this doe eyed look on your face as you fawned all over none other than the chief of justice. Mentioning more than once how tall and handsome he was, how incredible it would to have a man like him around.
"Enough."
You paused mid sentence, caught off guard by the amount of malice in his once kind sweet voice, watching as he stood up from his seat, your mouth slightly agape. You'd never seen him like this before...so angry and confident, it was scary...yet also a little exciting. After a moment of silence you'd worked up the courage to say something...but you didn't even manage to get a single word out as he grabbed the front of your shirt and pulled you harshly towards him, making you let out nothing more than a sharp gasp.
Your face went red, pure shock displaying itself on your features as he leaned in closer, his light purple eyes seemingly staring into your soul as his whispers grazed your ear, sending a shiver down your spine, "Hush now my love...you don't need him...I promise~"
𑁍༄Aether:
Aether was always there to help someone, so reliable in fact, that everyone called on him whenever there was a issue and including you, after all he'd saved you from many close calls...even saving your life a few times in the process and for that you were incredibly grateful, but alas you were still not in love with him. He on the other hand couldn't get enough of you, he just wanted to be near you all the time...be your hero and love you like nobody else ever could.
He...however wasn't the only person who could save someone and when the friendly neighborhood oni stepped in to save you, Aether was anything but pleased... especially when he saw the difference in how you acted. Yes your gratitude was the same...but you'd gotten all flustered at the onis impressive figure, touching the large man's chest while your face heated with such a strong blush and everyone around you cheered him on.
Aether was more than a little upset, suddenly understanding that he clearly wasn't your type and that he probably would never be, he just couldn't stand it! How could you, the person he'd do absolutely anything for...be so enraptured by someone else...just because they were bigger than him. No, he wouldn't let it stand, he'd fight for you, even if it meant doing things he could regret later on...it didn't matter, not anymore. You were all he cared about...all that mattered.
Just. You.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚Have a nice day*⁠.⁠✧
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mondaymelon · 4 months
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₊˚ෆ 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐃, 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐕𝐄! | sagau lyney, neuvillette, wriothesley x gn!reader
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ˋ°•*⁀➷ cw: theme of obsessiveness, yandere (big surprise!!) lyney + wrio's part mentions past abuse, all the stuff that comes as a side to this au !! ngl neuvillette's part is pretty tame he's literally. just a guy (otter)
⤷ [ you, the heavenly being who created celestia itself, has descended upon teyvat in an earthly form. a god, or at least, theirs. ]
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— sagau!lyney has always lived to be beheld by the eye.
Displays of extravagance, bouquets of flowers and pairs of white doves fluttering from his finger tips. Yes, that was where he belonged, standing on his place at the center of the stage, bright lights fixed on his form as he swept in his arm in a wide bow towards his beloved audience. Listening to their adoring cheers and drinking it all in - their support, the fame, their fanatic attention.
Attention was always something he had yearned for. Cold days exist in his memory, where he wandered the street aimlessly, pale skin littered with growing purple bruises, his only refuge the light tug of Lynette's soot-stained hands clinging onto what rags he wore. In those times, he remembers, a faint voice from above, angelic and holy, soft and compassionate.
A voice that was, in fact, yours. You had stared with wide eyes at your device as the cutscene began, instantly overcome with emotion. "Lyney, Lynette... was this how you had been living? Goddamn, I know every character in this game has a tragic backstory, but look at them!! They're... they're precious!! Wahhh, I want to take you in... Lyney, you better come home..." They were merely throwaway comments that you had blurted out in the shelter of your room, absolutely fixated on their pretty character designs and the dwindling number of primogems your inventory held. Not only had you lost the 50/50 to Qiqi herself, you were now nearing hard pity, and the charming magician was still nowhere in sight. You shut your eyes "Ah... Lyney, how come you-"
Light flickered before your closed eyelids, and you felt the wind tug at your body. Your stomach lurched, oh shit, were you falling..?
"-won't..."
Someone caught you with ease, swift and capable arms holding you, one supporting your back and the other hefting both your legs. Twinkling purple eyes met yours. "Ah, are you alright?" You quickly shook your head, too shaken to speak words at the moment. Surveying your surroundings only brought another wave of confusion - strange buildings, glittering blue lakes and trees, an unfamiliar landscape... Your gaze shifted, and you caught the sight of uncanny ash blond hair, and the hat that sat atop it. Lyney?
He hummed in acknowledgement. "So, you've just fallen from the sky." There was no way in mistaking his voice. "Is there an explanation behind that, or...?"
"I...I- I don't know why I'm here...!" You stuttered, and he visibly flinched at your voice, eyes widening. Shit, had you done something wrong? You trembled in his arms, attempting to stand by yourself, but he wouldn't let you move from his grasp.
"I see." His voice was quiet, now, and came in a single breath. His pupils shook as he closed his eyes in a smile. "Then, shall I bring you somewhere where you'll be safe?"
His heart was racing, pounding against his chest, and he could hardly breath, instead taking in short, desperate little gasps that did little to keep him standing. You.
It was a voice he swore he'd never let escape his recollection, and now there was a face, and touch to pair it with. He smile widened, and his eyes shined with pure ecstasy. It was you, in the flesh, his archon, his god, the highest being. Your body was holy, and he longed to praise it, his dark heart being cleansed just by bathing in your presence. Yet you seemed so fragile in his arms, how cute... it wouldn't be fair to keep you to himself, but being selfish is what allowed him to get this far. Like a songbird in a cage, he'd trap you, admire you, worship you.
Your brows furrowed in confusion, and you could feel his smile's sweet grow more sickening every beat of silence that passed. "No, What? I-"
His hand struck the back of your neck. Your voice died as your eyes fluttered shut. And in that moment Lyney pressed a kiss to both of your closed lids, a tender touch that one might describe as "loving", but what truly lie beneath it was far more twisted. His heart beat only for you, and red flushed across his cheeks.
"There's no need to worry, my eminence. I'll put on a show, just for your delight." ₊˚ෆ
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— sagau!neuvillette has always yearned for warmth.
A warmth is not present in the courts of Fontaine. There, it is cold, sharp, the biting frigidness numbing the hearts of people - those who stand before him in trial, and those who watch with glee in the crowd, awaiting his final verdict with bated breaths.
Neuvillette was most renowned for his judgement. But it was his own that was a critical flaw. For what truly was judgement? Had he been justified in casting a murderer, in some eyes, but a hero in others, into the Fortress of Meropide? A mere child, who just sought for warmth, just as he had? He fears his heart has also grown cold and indifferent to the world, and he despises himself for it.
Was it not your warm hand that stroked him lovingly so back then, a quiet, soothing touch that swept away the tears and the salt that clung to his cheeks? Was it not your voice who called out to him on those ever so lonely nights, humming an otherworldly tune as your ghostly visage wiped the sorrow that flowed his downcast eyes? Yes, truly. It was your warmth that caused his eyes to glow anew, your warmth that allowed his cheeks and the tips of his pointed ears to flush with contentment.
"Oh, wise ludex! This man is a murder! He stole not only my mother's assets, but my mother's life!" The crowd gasped at the dramatic declaration, their gazes shifting back and forth, from the perpetrator to the "witness." "I will dearly miss her... this man, no, this monster, took my mother away by hitting her over the head with none other than a bludgeon!"
Neuvillette's eyes widened. "Mr... Lucas."
"Y-Yes, ludex?"
"It was never disclosed to the public of what weapon the killer used."
The crowd erupted into a series of sharp inhales, surprised noises muffled by a hand over the mouth, round eyes as large as dinner plates, and frantic head turning. Journalists scribbled frantically in their notebooks, sweat pouring from their faces as they stumbled upon their newest cash cow.
"The verdict. Mr. Lucas is found to be guilty."
And they cheered. For what? Neuvillette narrowed his eyes just a fraction, his displeasure rising. They knew nothing. They were just mindless puppets, willing themselves to follow the sway of the crowd, praising and applauding something that naught needed its praise.
A sensation came over him, like the soft caress and flutter of an angel's wings or a soft, sweet sigh escaping from pouting, half-opened lips. The man snapped his head up, hearing the glass behind him shatter and plummet downwards like crystal raindrops, but what verily sent his heart apounding was the sight of a figure, dressed in heavenly silks, bathed in golden light, and descending into the courtroom. He drank it all in with a bated breath, hearing that for once, the crowd was silence.
You landed in his arms. Beautiful. He almost didn't dare move with you in his arms, in fear of his legs giving way underneath him. Your head lulled into his chest, eyes shut, and your pure, unbridled warmth finally met him, finally doused him in its prescence.
"Your... your eminence..." His voice was a mere echo, quiet, containing little sound at all. "I..."
"To you who has granted me such the blessing of warmth, I shall repay with all of my heart." ₊˚ෆ
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— sagau!wriothesley has always wanted... someone to hold him.
It's a selfish thing to long for, and a silent one. Who would pay any heed to a duke's ramblings? Love's a thought that he's never quite fully digested, almost as if he can't truly believe it exists. Of course, he's seen Fontaine's couples, strolling up and down the street, hand-in-hand, yet questions himself in what makes them able to love each other. Perhaps it wasn't his problem with them, but more so a problem with himself.
Ah, that was it.
His heart already belonged to someone, someone he had heard once and never witnessed again. Like the softest breath of the wind, or a joyful child's laughter, it brushed through his soul and soothed it, held it in its arms, and fussed over his messy hair and bruised skin. At times, Wriothesley wondered if it was all a dream, for only something that angelic, mesmerizing could not stem from reality. However, as young as he was in those years, he cannot deny the fact that in his dark days - it was your mysterious voice that carried him into the life, your presence that gave him the wings to continue living.
Yes, since that day, his every breath, every flutter of his eyes and every pump of blood that rushed anew into his veins from his heart was solely for the purpose of meeting you once more.
Another typical day at the Fortress of Meropide - paperwork strewn all over his once-organized desk, a cooled cup of tea sitting next to where his hand lie, the other furiously writing away on the said paper. He ran a hand through his hair, grumbling into his palm as he briefly shut his eyes... only to shoot them back upon in a start as he heard the sound of something crashing against the walls, and the sound of paper, flying everywhere akin to a bird.
There was someone, lying, or rather, sprawled across his desk. Dizzy-eyed and muttering something intelligible, a growing red spot on their forehead gradually becoming increasingly more visible. "How did you get in here?" He's immediately put up his defenses, readying his gloves as he steps over - with quiet remorse - the papers that now blanket the ground.
"...Wh...Where am I?"
That. That voice.
Has he stopped breathing? He can feel all the blood rush to his head, and he can hardly think a single coherent thought, only focusing on the rush in his ears, the shaking of his hands, and the sight of you before him, dressed simply in sleepware and glancing around frantically. Gorgeous. Ethereal. The mere sight of you before him had spurred his heart into an erratic, fanatic pace, beating within his body like he'd die if it slowed down.
"Is... Is something wrong?" He was taken aback at the hand waving over his eyes, before settling back into position, realizing that you had been trying to speak with him for the past half-minute in his zoned-out state. Could you see it? The sin that was clearly displayed in his every breath, in his every inch of being?
"No, nothing's wrong." You seemed to have calmed down somewhat, and while your eyes were still filled with confusion, you tilted your head at his words. How come he was smiling...?
"Ah, then about that question-"
"Home. You're home. And this is where you'll be staying, forever." ₊˚ෆ
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(a/n) ugh i swear to god i hate every single thing ive ever written for wriothesley he seems so yucky and out of character WJODJKFLJDSMF>
REBLOGS APPRECIATED!! please consider following me as i amm soosososoo close to a follower goal ive been wanting to reach and itd be crazy if i could reach it before christmas!!!
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-> teehee what if yall left a message on my christmas tree 😶😶😶
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flokali · 5 months
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Thinking about Neuvillette enabling Furina’s obsession with you, justifying it as a simple crush; yet another of her whims, she’ll get bored of you soon enough, he tells himself, but it’s been a little over a year and your presence seems to only cement itself in her life – and his, by association.
He lets her drag you around, unconsciously or not making you into something akin to a lap-dog, never meant to take a part in the countless meetings and private conversations you’re unceremoniously dragged into; always present yet never needed. You fit in quite well with the two of them, he has to admit, with all the blue hues and Fontaine-style clothes she forces you into, though to be fair you’ve always been quite attractive in his eyes.
He tells himself it’s for her sake, after all, hasn’t the woman suffered enough? Years of anguish can’t be erased but maybe your company can help her process of healing, that is quite the logical reasoning, right? But the truth is he’s always been a little too happy to babysit you whenever Furina leaves you in his office on the rare occasions she’s forced to part with you, he is one of the few people she trusts to take care of her beloved. He can’t lie and say he doesn’t see what it is about you that has so helplessly charmed his companion, everyday he spends with you he feels himself understanding her more and more.
He’s heard companions help soothe loneliness and he doubts Furina would put too much of a fuss if he asked to share, not after everything they’ve been through together.
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dark-night-hero · 5 months
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Imagine a Yandere Kamisato Ayato who would do anything to make you his.
Imagine a meticulous Yandere Ayato who would slowly but surely isolate you from the rest of the world, would make sure you have no one to run into but him and only him. He did not even know when it start, was it the first time he have met you? Or was it during the times in his lowest and you were there to comfort him? He don't know, but if there was something he knew other than to make his clan prosperous again, that is to make you his and only his.
Imagine it started with rumors. It started with nonsense rumors into harmful rumors that surely affect you. The way people looks at you, the way you knew they were talking about you. You did not even do anything wrong and yet they kept talking about you. "What's wrong hmmm? Can you tell me what's wrong (First name)?" "... My lord..." He will make sure he would be the only person you could open up to. He thought as he felt a shiver down his spine as you pull him into an embrace, sniffing and holding on into him as you cried. Just like who you were there at his lowest, he would make sure he was there too, even if he was the cause of that downfall that you would never knew.
Imagine Yandere Ayato who would do anything to have you as his spouse despite the disapproval of his retainers. Be it means blackmailing or wiping them clean with all sorts of reasons of corruption. Yandere Ayato whom when he finally have you in the palm of his hands, would make sure to never let step outside the estate. Saying the world is to dangerous for you to venture. That as long as you stay by his side, you'll be safe and sound, away from the danger and humors going and might come into you. The truth is you've always been so kind, not only to him but also to others, and afraid that that kindness would be taken away from him. He would keep you by his only and only by his side.
Imagine knowing very well of what he was doing. Knowing he was the root of all the rumors that causes your reputation downfall in the lands of Inazuma. "Darling, what do you think of a simple marriage? Just the two of us uhm ugh, and maybe a few guests, my sister- thoma-" "Anything is fine, Ayato." You smile sweetly at him before taking his hand that was place on top of yours and pulling it close on your mouth before giving he back of his hand a kiss. "I'll be here by your side and only by your side, so do whatever you pleased."
Imagine a shiver down his spine, a crazy flustered look on his face, the way his eyes twitch in a bliss of happiness. "Ohhhh how I love you very much, darling." He laughs as he pull you into his arms. "I know Ayato, and I love you too, very, very much." You chuckle and embrace him back, a smirk making it's way on your lips.
Imagine, the thing about a crazy, love sick, manipulative, Yandere Ayato is that you don't mind. Because you were just as crazy and love sick when it comes to him. And knowing your love, loves you as much and as crazy as you were with him. It was trully a great pleasure. "I'm yours, but that means you're mine, okay?"
[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2023°
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draconic-desire · 1 month
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A Dance With the Dragon I — The Tides Beckon
Yandere Neuvillette x Reader
[Part I — You are here] [Part II] [Part III]
The last thing you expected was to have caught the eye of Fontaine’s Chief Justice. You have no choice but to be swept into the dragon’s dance.
Warnings: Yandere tendencies, possessive behavior, forced imprisonment, unrequited relationship
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It all started with your realization that Fontaine has some rather intriguing laws.
For as long as you could recall, you had aspired to become a marine biologist. Though you hailed from Mondstadt, you forged your curiosity in the tide pools and lakes around the edges of the region. You scoured over any novel you could find on marine ecology and animal behavior, spending endless hours lost in the Knights of Favonius library. On your thirteenth birthday, your parents bought you a Kamera, which launched your career in wildlife photography and research. You even went on to publish a book cataloguing pictures of your nation’s aquatic life. It came to no one’s surprise, then, when you were gifted with a hydro vision.
Although you loved your life in Mondstadt, the vast waters that surrounded the Land of Hydro beckoned you like the pull of a tide. So, on your twenty-fifth birthday, you parted with your family and homeland, traversing across Teyvat and experiencing its many wonders. You relished in the culture and cuisine in Liyue and marveled at the natural architecture of Sumeru’s forests. Yet nothing would ever be as breathtaking as your first glimpse at Fontaine, at the granite peaks rising above the crystalline waters teeming with life of all forms.
You had secured employment with a group researching the sudden uptick in seal strandings across the nation, taking you across Fontaine’s many beaches. Your main base was located near Romaritime Harbor, which prompted you to spend your lunch breaks exploring the Court of Fontaine.
You made quick friends with the Melusines, some of whom were still a bit nervous being around humans; however, you found their stories of the ocean fascinating and often invited them to join you for lunches or strolls through the city.
One in particular, Carole, had become your close friend after you encountered her being pelted with rocks by a mob of Fontainians. You didn’t hesitate to use your vision to immobilize the rocks and create a barrier around Carole, quickly ushering her to safety. You couldn’t comprehend the prejudices directed towards her and the other Melusines, but after that incident, you made sure to keep an eye out for all of your little friends.
One day, on one of your walks, you ran into said Melusine. She seemed despondent that only a handful of citizens were interested in her hand painted posters, so you decided to treat her to lunch and pastries to cheer her up. That’s when you first caught wind of the Hydro Dragon.
“Well, if you’re worried about the seals, you might call upon the Hydro Sovereign himself!” Carole chirped.
You tipped your head curiously, lowering the cup in your hands onto the cafe table. “Don’t you mean herself? Although I’ve never met the Hydro Archon, I’ve heard others refer to her as ‘Lady’ Furina.”
Carole shook her hands back and forth in front of her. “Oh, no, I mean the Hydro Dragon! He is responsible for keeping watch over Fontaine, which includes all of its resources and residents. I’ve heard that with every sea creature that passes, the heavens open and the dragon sheds his tears in mourning.” She took a bite of her croissant. “I have a feeling he’d be willing to help.”
You tapped your chin in thought. “You don’t say. Well, we are in a bit of a drought, which could be contributing to the beachings… Perhaps I’ll ask this Hydro Sovereign for his favor.”
On the days you were dispatched to Fontaine’s eastern beaches, you opted to sit by the Fountain of Lucine to wish for the Hydro Dragon’s help. It had become a tradition for you to do so ever since your conversation with Carole, for you swore that every time you prayed to his name, rain would grace the shores the next day.
During those research trips, your coworkers would invite you to attend trials at the Opera Epiclese, though you politely declined each time. You had no particular interest in the Opera and were much more inclined to spending your time outside and uninvolved with the court’s theatrics. Besides, you considered yourself to be a model citizen, so the proceedings of the court were beyond your worries.
Or so you thought.
~*~
The incident that led to your arrest was the violation of the order “no domestic pets shall be named after Furina”. Apparently the otter that paddled around the Harbor each morning was undignified of the title of “Focalotter”. You had thought the name quite clever and humorous—that is, until a horde of Gardes surrounded you during your shift one afternoon.
You were detained and led into the Opera immediately, which was where you currently found yourself. You frowned at the relatively large crowd—which, much to your dismay, included most of your coworkers—dispersed throughout the hall. Had they all come just to spectate your trial? Standing alone on the isolated balcony, you felt like an insect under a magnifying glass, an insignificant pest to be probed at for entertainment.
“And how do you plead?”
The deep, commanding voice above you wrenched you from your thoughts. Turning your eyes up, your (e/c) orbs were met with a penetrating gaze.
Pinning you with his lavender and silver eyes from atop his chair at the center of the court was none other than the Chief Justice of Fontaine, the Iudex himself, the face of the law in the Court. Monsieur Neuvillette.
This wasn’t your first interaction with the man.
Shortly your move to Fontaine, you had stumbled across his path. At first, it was just sightings from afar; he would be leaving the Opera, or purchasing a drink (Wait, is he paying for water?) from your favorite cafe. Your favorite flowers also began to appear at your doorstep, each time with a brief, cryptic note, usually something along the lines of To my little pearl —Sincerely, your guardian dragon. You didn’t think anything of it; if anything, it confirmed that your prayers to the Hydro Sovereign had been heard.
Then, however, Neuvillette began to periodically show up around your research stations, claiming to be investigating a court case. Even though the Iudex’s public appearances were supposedly rare, none of your coworkers, yourself included, thought to question his authority, answering his inquiries regarding the base’s activities to the best of your abilities.
You noticed that he tended to speak to you the most, even asking personal inquiries like your favorite drinks, foods, books, and hobbies, and about your marine photography especially. It must be part of the investigation, you rationalized. He was nothing but gentlemanly and always kept conversations curt and to the point, offering you a gentle smile as he departed.
If only you knew the true extent of his desires.
~*~
Naturally, he first caught wind of you from the Melusines. As his closest advisor, Carole regularly joined him for afternoon tea, and though he was not one for idle talk, the manner in which his friend spoke of you sparked his intrigue.
“And when those meanies were throwing rocks at me, (Y/n) was the only one who intervened! If it weren’t for her, I don’t know what would have happened…” Carole rubbed her head, as if remembering the sharp pain.
Neuvillette placed a hand over his heart. “I am eternally grateful for her presence. I cannot stand the thought of any harm befalling you.” The hydro dragon looked out the window of his study to the ocean, deep in thought. “Perhaps you could introduce me. It appears I have much to thank her for.”
“Oh, that’s right!” Carole raised a finger. “She mentioned lots of seal beachings recently, so I suggested that requesting rain from a certain dragon could assist her work!”
Neuvillette nodded, a slight smile pulling at his lips. “Ah, so that is why I’ve been hearing Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon echoing throughout my mind the past few weeks. You have quite the imagination, my friend.”
Carole shrugged playfully. “Hasn’t it been raining more often lately? Seems like her prayers worked!”
That they had, as Neuvillette could attest to.
The first time he heard your soft voice calling to him, he had sent rain the following morning—not for you, but for the seals. His position barred him from forming close relationships with humans, so the notion of attending to your inquiry face-to-face was eliminated immediately.
But when you returned again and again to implore for rain, he couldn’t deny his interest. The day after Carole informed him that his little supplicant and Carole’s hero were one in the same, he knew he had to meet you. He had actually left the Opera to see you for himself; whether he would actually converse with you was still uncertain, but your voice tickled an itch that he needed to scratched.
Neuvillette was an experienced and composed man, but setting his sights on you for the first time stole his breath. This, he thought, must be what it feels like to drown.
Your smile shone brighter than a Beryl conch, and your scent floated around him, sweeter than any marcotte. The light shimmering from the hydro vision on your hip reflected back in your eyes, giving them the appearance of twin pools of blue. You were sitting on a bench by the Fountain, a Kamera in hand as you gestured excitedly towards the screen. To your right was a Melusine he knew well, Kiara, who was clearly enraptured with the technology.
Though he knew of your kindness towards the Melusines—jumping in to save Carole alone was grounds for a medal of peace—seeing it before him sent the waters around his heart roiling. The Iudex was moved by the fact that, despite being a foreigner to Fontaine’s customs, you treated them with the utmost respect, going out of your way to befriend and include them in your daily life. Many citizens of Fontaine still harbored prejudice against the Melusines, but you… You even used she/her pronouns when referring to them, implementing the very law that he set forth.
“I use this for my research on seal behavior and conservation,” you explained to Kiara. “Having pictures of each individual helps us identify them in the future. We even give them silly names sometimes. See this one here? We call him Mr. Sealie, and this otter I like to call…”
When the pink Melusine started giggling over the nickname of your otter, a plan formed in his mind.
Whether attributable to his sense of justice or his draconic instincts, he knew one thing for certain. Like a shining pearl, you must be cherished and protected—and who better to serve than the Hydro Sovereign?
~*~
Those eyes will be my downfall.
Purple and silver locked with (e/c). Despite being newly appointed to the court, Neuvillette was the embodiment of both poise and intimidation. The very air around him seemed to shimmer with power and unyielding authority. His breathtaking eyes swirled with emotions—was that desire or disinterest?—you could not even begin to decipher in your current position.
Archons, help me.
You cleared your throat, hoping you didn’t appear too nervous in front of the judge. “Although I admit to using a version of the Hydro Archon’s name when referring to that otter, I was unaware of such a law against doing so. I’m not originally from Fontaine, so some of its, uh…lesser discussed laws are new to me.”
Neuvillette gazed around the courtroom as the crowd devoured the trial before them. It was baffling how naive humans could be sometimes; of course there was no rule against applying a silly nickname to a pet.
That is, until this morning when he had signed it into law.
Seeing you frightened and alone in the defendant’s box, however, was torture. It took all of his willpower to not to engulf you in his strong arms like waves around sand. But he had to maintain the facade of immovable judicator for a bit longer in order to mold you to his tide. Retaining his mask of composure, Neuvillette continued, “You do realize that previous defendants have been jailed for far less, correct?”
Frustration and fear flared within you. “But I—”
“Desecration of Lady Furina’s name is of the highest offense. Your behavior will not be excused, neither by myself nor the Oratrice.” Neuvillette raised the paper with your verdict, barely glancing over the words before he spoke. “The verdict stands: you, (Y/n) (L/n), are guilty.”
You clenched your fists heatedly. There was no arguing with the Iudex. Clearly, the polite and considerate version of Neuvillette that you had encountered earlier was an anomaly, for the figure looming above you was the complete opposite. Cold, calculating. Distant. A whirlpool cresting a bottomless sea.
Had this been his plan all along? Had you been the subject of his investigation? But why?
“However, because you are not from Fontaine, I will offer you a choice.”
You blinked up at the Justice, a knot of unease forming in your stomach. A choice? What choice did you truly have here? You pursed your lips warily but nodded for him to continue.
Neuvillete raised a gloved finger. “The first: you will serve a life sentence in the Fortress of Meropide.”
A wave of despair seared your insides like a brand. That was your fate? To be trapped beneath the region where you had always longed to live, never to feel the salty wind on your face or hear the calls of seals and gulls again? Surely, the second option was less cruel?
“Or, alternatively: you will dedicate your life to the court. You will abide by its laws without question and with unwavering commitment. You will relinquish your freedom; you will not be permitted to leave Fontaine and will be bound to this place for eternity.”
A choked sob escaped your lips. No matter what you chose, your life’s work and passion would be extinguished. You would be forced to either become an actress in the court’s performance or resign your soul to a watery grave.
Both option chained you to the Region of Hydro forever.
But one option at least granted you a semblance of freedom—a notion that you soon learned was as transitory as a bubble in water.
The crack of a cane against wood resounded through the Opera, quickly silencing the crowd’s mutterings over your sentence. “What is your decision?”
You could have heard a pin drop as the audience waited in rapt anticipation for your answer.
“I…I choose the latter,” you declared, tilting your chin up. You maintained direct eye contact with the Iudex all the while, holding onto your last bit of pride.
You could have sworn you saw Neuvillette release a breath of relief. “Very well. I hereby adjourn the court. Gardes, please escort the defendant to my office for further instruction.”
Two Gardes led you out of the Opera and onto an Aquabus to the city. They informed you that you would now be living in the Palais Mermonia and your duties would begin immediately. When you asked about retrieving your belongings and notifying your family, the Gardes exchanged glances.
“That won’t be necessary,” one said cryptically. “Monsieur Neuvillette will page your relatives and have your possessions seized.”
You frowned, wishing to object, but the Palais doors loomed before you like the entrance to a monster’s lair. You gulped but swallowed your fears, straightening your back pridefully as you were ushered inside and into the Chief Justice’s office. The bolting of the lock from the outside set alarm bells off immediately.
Neuvillette stood from his seat as you walked in. He coughed awkwardly, red dusting across his pale complexion. “Ah, Lady (Y/n). I do apologize for such a fast-paced series of events. You must be exhausted.” He motioned towards the sofa adjacent to his workspace. “Please, sit.”
You blinked at him in surprise. What happened to the unwavering judge from the court? Why was he suddenly treating you kindly? And why in the Archons’ names was he blushing of all things? Unsure how else to react, you obeyed and settled into your seat, with Neuvillette taking his own on the sofa across from you.
Neuvillette poured you a glass of what appeared to be plain water into an exquisitely ornamented cup. You took it wordlessly, noticing his eyes flare with a silver glow when your fingers brushed his own. Gripping his own cup, he raised the chalice towards you. “To a long and dedicated future together.”
You sketched a brow curiously but raised your glass in tandem to…whatever that was supposed to mean. “To not being in prison, I guess.”
“Indeed.” A breathy chuckle followed. “Now, I’m sure you’re wondering as to what this whole business regarding your sentence is.” Neuvillette took a long sip from his chalice. He frowned slightly when you simply placed yours on the coffee table separating the two of you. “Although you may have thought you’d be completing droll office work, your duties will be a tad unorthodox.”
At this, your brows furrowed. Wasn’t that what all those employees you had passed in the Palais foyer had been doing—pushing papers? You had cringed at the dark bags under many of their eyes, at how many were asleep at their desks, imagining how similar you’ll look once your sentence was completed. But based on Neuvillette’s words, it sounded like you would be doing something very different.
Oh, Archons. I’m fucked.
You braced yourself to speak, but Neuvillette beat you to it.
“You are to be my wife.”
You blinked once, twice, waiting for the punchline of the joke.
Neuvillette merely stared at you with his hands folded across his lap, waiting for your response.
After a pregnant pause, you couldn’t help the stunned scoff that escaped your lips. “You can’t be serious.”
“Quite, I’m afraid.”
You shook your head. “With all due respect, Monsieur—”
“Please, call me Neuvillette.”
Ignoring him, you continued, “I did not agree to be your wife.”
The Chief Justice leaned back against the posh blue cushions of the sofa. “Although that may be the case, you are in no position to refuse. In fact, your sentence mandates that you follow my orders.”
You stood abruptly, sending your goblet toppling over and spilling its contents across the table. “Marriage was not a part of that sentence.” Which was ridiculous to begin with, you added to yourself. I mean, a life sentence for a pet name? It’s almost like he wanted me arrested.
Neuvillette sighed and flicked his wrist, causing the chalice to right itself and the water to refill. “Marriage is the highest form of dedication, no? Is that not what you pledged to?”
“I dedicated my life to the court,” you clarified.
“My dear, I am the court.”
You emitted a low hiss, turning to the door. “I’m leaving.”
Before you could take more than a step, Neuvillette moved towards you faster than a crack of lightning across the sea. His large frame straddled yours, pinning you against the sofa. He grabbed your dominant wrist, a foreign bubbling under your skin erecting the hairs on your arms. Your mind reached out for your hydro powers to defend yourself, only to be crushed with the realization that your vision had been confiscated at the court.
Despite your struggles, you could only watch in terror as a glowing silver-blue mark in the shape of a dragon burned across the length of your arm. The leviathan’s scaly body twisted in ringlets up your forearm and bicep, ending in a slender head with twin horns that crested your shoulder.
As soon as Neuvillette loosed his grip, you shoved him away, panting heavily. The mark had already disappeared, but you could still feel the ghost of it under your skin.“What have you done?” you whispered breathlessly.
In total contrast to your own contorted expression, Neuvillette appeared completely calm. He smoothed out his robes and adjusted his jabot. “I have lived for centuries, and I have many centuries more. I’ve merely gifted some of them to you.”
Your body began to shake, from fear, sadness, or rage you did not know. “I don’t want them.”
“You do remember that you promised to serve the court for eternity, don’t you? How do you expect to persist by my side otherwise?”
Eyes locked on the exit, you tried for a different tactic. “Take me to the Fortress of Meropide.”
Neuvillette’s expression darkened, his patience clearly thinning. “I will not.”
Your eyes shifted back to his. Although Neuvillette intimidated you beyond belief, you’d be damned if you didn’t go down without fighting for your life’s hard work. “I want to change my sentence.”
He glanced down at your arm. “It’s a bit too late for that, my dear.” Taking your hand in his, he pulled you to his chest. His form towered over you, capable of resting his chin on the top of your head. “Please, understand. I mean to keep you from harm, even if it means being your jailor.”
“You’re insane,” you hissed, futility attempting to pull away. “Let go of me!”
Neuvillette’s grip was relentless. You stilled when you felt claws ghost up your back in a silent warning. “That is one thing I will never do.”
The fight in you slowly ebbed away—for now. Your resistance was clearly moot, like a gnat trying to down a dragon. You’d have to play the long game to learn how to get under his skin—and how to rid your own of this new mark. “I will find a way out of this,” was all you could promise, refusing to meet his eyes.
A deep sigh sounded above you. Neuvillette took a step back, looking at you with such longing you thought you’d combust on the spot. With one last stroke of your cheek, he strode towards the office’s exit and unlocked the door with a flick of his wrist. Looking over his shoulder, he fixed you with a forlorn gaze. “By the time you realize your place here, there will be nothing for you to escape to. Only I will remain.” He once more turned his back to you and stepped out of the room.
You suddenly paled, realizing the implication of his words. If his declaration was true and you were to live as long as him, then your family, your career, the world as you know it would be completely gone. Your only company, your only solace, the only one who would remember your name, would be him. “Wait, no, you can’t—!”
He closed the doors.
~*~
Neuvillette was many things, but a liar was not one of them.
True to his word, you remained locked almost exclusively in the Palais Mermonia. On the rare occasions he let you outside, the Iudex served as your only company, diligently making sure you were hidden. Your vision was permanently taken, supposedly to prevent danger to yourself. It didn’t go unnoticed when he would wear it on his hip at important or potentially volatile trials. When you finally asked—or growled at him, really—why he kept it on his person, he had merely frowned and replied, “I originally thought the idea of a fake vision preposterous, I admit. I have no need for one. Yet having it feels as if you are constantly by my side.”
The draconic tattoo he had branded onto your arm not only extended your lifespan but also gave you a minuscule drop of his abilities—though only when you were in his presence (and most definitely not against him—you had tried). That allowed the two of you to transport to and breath in the depths of Fontaine whenever you begged to go out. In his mind, it was perfect—not only was the sea his realm, but no one and nothing could touch you. You were his alone to hold, to see, to have.
Those trips were torture for you. Free, but trapped; floating, but tied down to the man who was supposed to be the symbol of justice.
You, on the other hand, had tried a variety of (fruitless) tactics to convince the judge to free you. Any attempt at conversation or advance in his part was met with either vitriol or indifference on your part. You had once tried to charm him into letting his guard down, hoping you could sneak away while he was preoccupied at the court. This plan epically backfired on you when he mistook your subtle touches as permission to devour you with kisses and love bites, covering you in bruises from his sharp teeth for the next week. You wouldn’t so much as let him tap your shoulder for the next month after—the spark of silver in his eyes while he kissed you foretold of a deep, overwhelming desire that far surpassed simple kisses. You feared what might occur if the composed Chief Justice were given the opportunity to release his more primal urges.
And so, each day was passed much in the same:
1) Wake up on the floor or couch of his suite in the Palais—like hell you’d be sharing a bed with him. Oh, how he had tried in the beginning to usher you into bed, into his arms. It was childish, yes, but at least your refusal have you some semblance of autonomy.
2) Ponder on how you would greet Neuvillette that day.
3) Choose between fury or pretending he didn’t exist, typically the latter.
4) Look for a way to escape after he left for the Opera. Fail.
5) Spend most of the day scouring court cases in his office for clues to overturn your cause. Fail again.
6) Look out the window pitifully at the water beyond the Court of Fontaine (were the levels rising?). You often thought of your family back in Mondstadt; what were they told of your imprisonment, if anything? How long had you been stuck with the Chief Justice? The days blurred like ink in water.
7) Immediately exit the office towards his attached suite the moment he returned—any other room was preferable to his suffocating presence.
Today, though, he had chosen to interrupt your musings out the window before you could make your exit.
“You know, I find the beauty of the bright sunlight is best appreciated from the indoors through a window.”
Turning your head from the glass pane, your attention was brought to the figure standing in the doorway. He was wearing nothing but a simple pair of dark blue slacks and a white tunic, his robes hooked over his arm. At the start of your captivity you had mused how strange it was to see him without his normal ornamentation; now his comparatively plain appearance was a daily sight for you.
You crossed your arms and leaned against the window, relishing the heat from the coastal sun against your back. It was nothing like the dark pits he practically dragged you to now that you could breathe underwater. “Personally, I prefer to enjoy it with the company of a cool breeze by the shoreline.”
The Chief Justice loosed a deep sigh as he approached you. He extended his palm, caressing your cheek gently. “If you desire it so, I will rearrange some meetings and escort you—”
Below the waves, where he clung to you like a Lumitoile to a rock? “No need. Present company would ruin the experience. I prefer to be above water.”
Neuvillette had the audacity to wince at your retort. “So you instead choose to wallow in your self-inflicted solitude?”
You wanted to laugh at the hurt edge to his voice. Self-inflicted your ass—every moment of your life now centered on him, depended on his permission. Solitude was a disguise for any reprieve you could get from his constant attempts to court you.
The ironic part was that, if he had approached you normally, you could have seen yourself falling for him. He brought and cooked your favorite foods and beverages, showered you with gifts and books on photography, and tried his utmost to make you comfortable.
But you knew it was as nothing but glitter in a gilded cage. Neuvillette had drowned your whole world. So no, you wouldn’t act like any of this is normal.
Resisting the urge to bite his bare hand, you glared at your captor. “You could simply, oh, I don’t know, let me go.”
Neuvillette’s jaw tightened. His patience might run deeper than the Trench of Elton, but it was not everlasting. “We’ve discussed this.”
At that, you shrugged his hand off. “Can I at least speak with my family? My friends?”
A pained look flickered across Neuvillette’s face. “That isn’t possible.”
Your lip curled in response to his expression. “Don’t act like you actually care.”
Pursing his lips, he settled onto the window seat next to you. Though you were twitching with the urge to escape, he placed a large hand on your thigh, a gentle warning. “(Y/n), there’s something we must discuss.”
You narrowed your eyes, though your heart rate spiked. By now, he recognized your silence as a sign to continue.
“Do you wish to walk around the Court of Fontaine with me?”
Blinking, your throat dried. You swore you heard him wrong. “I’m sorry?”
Neuvillette squeezed your leg in what he thought was a comforting manner. His eyes—fuck, you had to admit they were wickedly beautiful, silver and sharp as a sword—never left your own. “You have been justified in your anger with me. I have restricted you for far too long. I would like to extend an olive branch, if you will—an agreement that we will both retain civility. I will grant you freedoms, but you must adhere to your sentence. Any deviation will not be tolerated.”
Your head was spinning, so you didn’t even consider the implications of his words. He was letting you out. “Can we go now?”
Neuvillette smiled softly. “Of course.” Standing, he offered you a hand. You tentatively took it, more awestruck than anything as he unlocked the doors to the outside. You’d finally get to see your family, your colleagues, the sun—!
Fontaine was unrecognizable.
The last time you seen the square of the Statue of the Seven, the roads were cobblestone. Now, strange machines roamed the paved streets, clearly serving as sentinels. None of the shops or restaurants were familiar—your favorite coffee shop, where you had so many chats with Carole, was now boasting signs for upscale fashion. A Melusine hopped by, wearing a Garde’s uniform, something that you remembered as being rare due to the increased chances of them being targeted. Your heart rate spiked in worry when the Melusine approached a group of children and their parents, only for a stunned expression to hit you when the creature was hugged by a little girl, her parents cooing in delight.
“Where…what?” you stammered. Fontaine had seemingly changed overnight—at least in your experience of time. Dread pooled in your stomach.
You attempted to pull your arm away from him, but his grip on you was steadfast. That same pained look from before marred his handsome features. “I did not lie when I said you have nothing to return to.” The Chief Justice sounded melancholic—he wished it hadn’t come to this, but he had to eliminate any prompts for you to leave.
“No, no.” Your heart dropped. “What… What year is it?”
The silence that followed was all you needed to know.
“How many years has it been, Neuvillette?” you repeated, your voice cracking with a desperate tone.
For once, Neuvillette avoided eye contact with you. He simply gestured towards a bulletin board, where the latest issue of The Steambird (at least one thing was consistent) was posted. You tore it from its pin, choking back a sob as you read the date.
Hands shaking, the issue fell to the ground. It landed in a puddle, its edges slowing soaking and blurring the ink. A steady rain had started to fall, quickly turning into a torrential downpour.
It had been over four hundred years since Neuvillette had taken you.
If it weren’t for Neuvillete’s hand on your hip, you would have crumpled to your knees. “H-how?”
Neuvillete looked to the skies solemnly. “Time passes differently for us long-lived species.” You cringed at his use of us, and how he actually sounded remorseful. “But this is our opportunity for a fresh start.”
Silent tears streamed down your face. For what could you do? Everyone and everything you knew was gone. Lost to the sea of time forever. You had nothing.
He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, placing a delicate kiss on the top of your head. “Cry not, my little pearl. No matter how many centuries pass, you will always have me.”
~*~
Neuvillette was many things.
And now, just as he dreamed since the moment he set his eyes on you, he was your everything.
And yet, you refused to drown.
As the years flowed like water through a stream, you began to learn the beat of Neuvillette’s dance. His emotions, his moods, his thoughts, all reflected themselves within the waltz of his life, and soon maneuvering around the steps became second nature to you. The balance of power laid within the count, and you were determined to be the one leading,
The dragon wanted to dance? So be it.
You’d give him the most challenging dance of his life.
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daylite-writes · 3 months
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Welcoming Legacy (It welcomes you) - SAGAU ft. Foul Legacy Tartaglia
Ever since you woke up in Teyvat, you’ve been… confused. The memories of your previous life fading, leaving you to wander. One thing was for certain though, the people here despised you for the face you wore. That was, until waking in the Snezhnayan wilderness after another death, a certain abyssal harbingers saves you from the cold.
cw: imposter au SAGAU shenanigans, temporary death, hyperthermia, passing out, not very yandere (but from his perspective it definitely would be), hurt/comfort, Capitano cameo! Written to be x reader ish, but it’s vague and ur kinda cold so can be read as Romantic or Platonic! Will be tagging as both lemme know if it shouldn’t be.
1.5k words
~~~
It’s almost funny, you think, how he’s the one who reconsized you first.
No. Not recognised. This was the first time you’d met any of them. The vision holders, the ‘characters’ that you once fawned over and held very dear. They wouldn’t know your name, your face—except for the fact they did. And they hated you for it. “Impersonator”, “Heretic”, “Damned”, “Witch.”
They all looked at you as if you’d committed a grave crime. A slight that could not be forgiven. But how could you have? You were given this name, and born with this face.
And yet you were hunted. And yet you were killed. Arrow through the heart, spear through the back, claymore to the ribs. The pain was unbearable, but death wasn’t the end. Each time you closed your eyes, hoping for an end to the nightmare, you awoke somewhere new.
You recognized the landscape from hours spent playing the game, and quickly learned to avoid settlements, villages, and most importantly, vision holders. The pain of death was too much, leaving your body trembling with sobs and quietly pleading to whatever force put you on Teyvat to just let you go home.
After the fourth death—at the hands of an electro charged spear, courtesy of a certain mahamantra—you woke up, shaking uncontrollably. Only this time, not from phantom pains or the emotional toll of death. This time, is was due to a heavy, bone deep, unnatural cold.
Snezhnaya.
Of course it had to be Snezhnaya.
You whimpered, cursing your luck. This would be a slow, painful death if you couldn’t find shelter and fast.
Stumbling to your feet—bare, the clothes that stayed with you after death did not include them—you looked around pitifully. A snowy forest. Beautiful, but useless, and hard to see far in. You’d never been to Snezhnaya in game either, so there was no way you’d be able to find shelter. Pitifully, you dragged yourself under a tree, curling into yourself under the pine’s branches, hoping it wouldn’t be too painful. Achingly, you let your eyes close, waiting for the next place.
Only, before the cold took you, a rumbling call broke through the tranquil silence of the forest.
Blearily, you opened your eyes. Some kind of beast? It wasn’t like you were familiar with the creatures of Snezhnaya. But it didn’t sound like a normal enemy monster. It was sad, keening… longing.
It called out again. You… would rather die quickly to a beast than slowly to hypothermia, you supposed.
“Here,” you called out weakly. You clicked your tongue a few times, as if luring in a cat. “Come on.”
You laughed slightly. Had delusion from hypothermia set in so quickly? You were making kissy noises at the monster in the forest. Luring in your death with soft sweet noises.
The forest was still for a moment. And then it wasn’t.
Snow crunched underfoot of what was undoubtedly a large creature. You were pretty sure you heard the waning bend of pine trees as it shoved pass.
Was this a mistake? Probably. You were too cold to care. Maybe its claws would be warm as it tore you apart. Ha. Wouldn’t that be nice?
At some point your eyes had slipped closed again, but it was close now. You could hear it. So close—you waited for the sink of claws into your flesh—
It came to a stop in front of you, inches away, maybe, if the warm breath on your skin was any indication.
In a raspy, warbling tone, it spoke English. “Creator?”
What?
You opened your eyes again, and gasped as you saw… Tartaglia? No, not him, exactly. But, his Foul Legacy. The rough plates of armor adorning his limbs, the red mask with a singular clouded pearl eye in the center, the sheer size of him.
“Ajax?” You mumbled.
“Creator!” It said again, rough, desperate, as if it had a throat not made for speaking.
“Hi.” You said simply, before your eyes slipped closed.
~
Warmth.
There was warmth.
A lot of warmth.
Fire.
You sighed, not daring to open your eyes for fear it might disappear. That you might still be laying in the snow, your blood crystallizing in your veins.
A smooth, clawed hand cupped your cheek, then your jaw, tilting your head back. Was this when the pain would come? You stirred a bit, but little nothing happened. The thing holding you sighed, gently pressing the sides of your cheek to open your jaw. What? What was happening? You hardly had time to panic before something warm was poured into your mouth, and his inhuman hand latched around your mouth to keep it shut.
You whimpered, eyes still closed—gods you really didn’t want to open them. You really couldn’t mentally confront what was happening. For now, it needed to stay invisible, it needed to not be real—as the liquid sat in your mouth. You refused to swallow, but it tasted like broth? Was it broth? You decided you didn’t care, not so long as you were being forced to drink—
That was, until its other hand came up and began to massage your throat. You sputtered, the rough finger pads gently rubbing against your throat forcing you to swallow after a moment.
It’s… nice. Warm but not hot, and definitely just some sort of broth now that you think about it. The next time the edge of a bowl is set against your lips, you drink of your own volition.
Whatever was caring for you seemed happy, as its rumbling chest, reminiscent of a cat's purr, seemed to indicate. Honestly, you were too, going slack against it, hiding your face in what you think is it’s neck, lined with a mane of fur, as it rubbed circles into your scars. The old aches of death soothing under its fingerpads.
Sleep came easy.
~
The next time you woke up, you weren’t so afraid to open your eyes.
Strangely calm, you didn’t even jump at the sight in front of you.
Probably seven feet tall, with thick, armored plates running up his body, a mix of purples, blues, blacks and reds coloring his body. His mask was a dull red, and an abyssal blue, almost jewel like eye was set in the center.
Foul legacy. Tartaglia’s abyssal form. This was Childe, no—
“Ajax?”
He practically melted, wrapping around you at the raspy croak of his own name.
You sighed, snuggling into the small fur mane around his neck.
“What are… what are you doing here?” Wasn’t he out of the country? You weren’t sure what point in the story you arrived during, but none of them had him in his homeland for long. “Isn’t being in that form for too long dangerous?”
He smiled. Well, ‘smile’ was a bad term. He curled back his lips and opened his plated maw, one you didn’t know he had. It was hidden among the red armor of his mask, which you were now convinced were just, ya know, his face when in foul legacy. His maw, black and almost a void inside, lined with row after row of sharp, shark-like teeth. He yawned, wide, before snapping his mouth shut with a little clack.
You couldn’t help the small giggle that bubbled up from your throat.
He seemed to like that, purring as he set his chin atop your head.
Your giggle faded away, and your face fell. You gave a soft sigh, body aching slightly. With a quiet voice, you could help but ask what’d been gnawing at you since you woke.
“Why… Why are you helping me?”
“Because the ones who hurt you are fools.”
That was not Ajax.
You turned your head, towards the entrance of the cave Ajax had holed the two of you up in.
When you saw who it was, you shied into the arms of Foul Legacy, who was happy enough to wrap his arms around you.
Capitano’s intimidating figure blocked the entrance of the cave, mask glinting in the fire light.
“I apologize for the late arrival, I was combing the west side of the valley for you. Tartaglia seemed to find you first.”
“I…” What?
Capitano stepped deeper into the cave, his steps were confident, but the closer he got, he lowered his head. It almost looked like a sign of respect.
A mere few strides away, he reached a hand out—to greet you? Touch you? You were sure, as before he could do anything, Ajax dragged you closer and responded to Capitano with a guttural growl.
“Quiet, eleventh.” Capitano commanded. Despite his unhappiness, Ajax obliged, letting Capitano closer.
A cold metal gauntlet approached your face slowly, before cupping your face. Gently, it tilted your jaw up, forcing you to meet the void of his mask.
You didn’t know that when the firelight hit your irises, they glittered with constellations, or that the veins barely visible against the white of your eyes were gold.
What you did see through, was the way his heavy shoulders dropped, and you heard a reverent sigh of relief. He dipped his head lower, and you swore crystal blue eyes blinked slowly down at you.
“Welcome to the waking world, dear Creator. Celestia has kept you asleep and unseeing for far too long.”
~~~
Omg this had so much more but the plot got out of hand so I just took the first bits and left the rest out. TECHNICALLY there’s lord and explanations but I know I’d never finish a cohesive plot so here we are! My first attempt as SAGAU!
Gonna update my ask specifics soon as well as answer one!
ALSO IVE BEEN TRYING TO FIND THIS SOULMATE AU SCARA FIC WHERE HE FINDS READER LIKE TIED OUT AS A SACRIFICE AND FINDS OUT SHES HIS SOULMATE AND HE LIKE BRINGS HER ALONG WITH HIM AND SHE IS LIKE SICK FROM THE COLD AND HES ALL WORRIED AND LIKE “FORGET THEM THEY BTRAYED TOU” AND I CANT FIND IT AGAINNN AAAA anyways if you’ve read it and know pls tell me
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hana-no-seiiki · 7 months
Text
// yandere/angsty undertones but nothing explicit.
- wriothesley x uninterested! reader.
“I like you.”
“I like you too.”
You said as you made kissy faces, smashing the expensive dolls your friend Wriothesley bought for you.
The young boy frowned at the display. Not because it made him unhappy. If anything your use of his gift gave him much joy. But he was a bit off put by your understanding of romance. “Courtship does not work like that.”
You looked at him once. Your chubby cheeks puffy up before you humphed and continued playing. Knowing you, it was probably because you couldn’t think of a retort.
Wriothesley smiles.
As an engineer, you were quite confident with your inventions. From the cutest of meka toys to the titan like guards that surrounded you, you knew them in and out.
That is until you were faced with a faulty, hostile one. Almost dying at the surprise. If it weren’t for Wriothesley watching over you like he always does, you no doubt would have died. Luckily the two of you managed to get by with just a few injuries. Heavy injuries. But with your lives intact nonetheless.
You think it’s because of such a dangerous event happening that Wriothesley realized he could lose you at any moment. His fear of never telling you how he felt overcame his fear of losing what you two had and so he said,
“I like you.”
Just like the way your now discarded dolls would confess to each other.
“Yeah,” You gasped out, still exhausted from the fight earlier and in no mood to entertain traitor like him. “I like me too.”
Wriothesley frowns.
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rockingbytheseaside · 16 days
Text
✦ A Boy Named Heretic 
tw: mentions of stalking and theft. Dottore in his Akademiya days, reader hinted to be from Khaenri'ah. SFW
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Imagine little boy Zandik, discreetly hiding behind the columns of the Akademiy, trying to take a peek at you from afar. You’d stand among your peers, the Akademiya’s uniform embracing your constitution to further highlight your comforting poise. You are taller than the young boy, a perfect image of a senior student with just a few semesters away from graduating and becoming an official researcher. Alas, the teen felt self-conscious to approach you directly, since he was only a junior trainee Dastur. 
Imagine little boy Zandik eavesdropping on your discussion with your friends. You’d complain to your friends how one of your notebooks on Linguistic Semantics and Pragmatics was lost. You were a diligent student, and your written notes were a reflection of your hard work, so it was natural for you to feel bummed out about losing your notebook out of the blue. Zandik would persist in eavesdropping, noticing your friends providing consultative pats on your back: “Maybe you left it some other place?” or “Maybe you forgot it in the previous class?” - they’d say. Little did you know that a young trainee Dastur was hugging your notebook close to himself, not admitting to anyone that he was the one who stole it.
Imagine little boy Zandik sneaking off into the lush gardens of the Akademiya or some other miscellaneous corner of Sumeru. He’d hold your notebook protectively as if it was his newest treasure from the one he adores. He’d spend hours reading your notes, analyzing your handwriting, and smiling at the small doodles left on certain pages. Zandik’s fingers would gently trace the outline of your pages, memorizing the unique theories and thoughts you conveyed in your notebooks. His dorm room was filled with various notes or papers you randomly discarded or forgot about. Now it proudly hung, being displayed on his wall. 
Imagine little boy Zandik never telling anyone that he was the one who pocketed your negligible belongings. Yet in a couple of weeks or months, you’d mysteriously find your long-forgotten notebooks once more. There it is, in your backpack, as if you never lost it. You’d scratch your head in confusion, unaware of carnelian red eyes staring at you from across the library. Even yet, oblivious of the boy whose cold stare would turn into a longing gaze. Any books you borrowed from the library a week ago were now on his desk.
Imagine little boy Zandik being conveniently nearby when you stormed into the student affairs office, complaining to one of the supervisors how your Akademiya uniform was stolen. You’d relentlessly argue about how you definitely did not leave it somewhere randomly, only to forget it after returning from a research expedition. Thus, after a useless talk in the office, you’d sigh and slump down in the empty hallway wearing casual clothes due to your missing uniform. 
“...Excuse me, miss?” - a small voice interrupted your thoughts when a junior student approached you. He stood there for a while, hands behind his back and big round eyes gawking. 
“...Um, yeah?” - you replied with uncertainty, trying to conjure a polite smile. “How may I help you?” 
“You’re not in your Akademiya uniform. I heard a commotion from the office from which you came from…” - he spoke, although hesitantly as if looking you straight in the eyes was an act of disrespect that could shatter him. “Did you lose yours?” 
“Ah, well, about that…” - you groaned, running a hand through your hair. “I’m sorry, was I too loud that other students heard from the hallway? My bad… Yes, I have indeed lost mine. Although I am more than certain it was stolen directly from my bag.” 
The young trainee Dastur stood in front of you, his eyes still wide and observant of your every move. He mustered a reply and said: “Don’t worry. No one heard… Only I did.” 
You stared at him awkwardly. Where did this boy come from? 
“Is this yours, miss?” - he suddenly revealed neatly folded clothes from behind his back. And wouldn’t you know, it was indeed your uniform. You hopped up in an instant. 
“Whoa-! It’s my uniform! But how, and where did you find it?” 
Imagine little boy Zandik invoking all his courage to stand still before you while biting his lips nervously as he handed you your belongings. Your immediate shift to awe and excitement upon your found uniform was a lot. You were indeed taller than him, your mere presence made him feel like a child, stammering and shifting coyly. However, he finally muttered his name to you and explained how he found some folded uniforms mysteriously left behind. 
Imagine little boy Zandik feeling relieved when you believed him, even when you noticed that the uniform was oddly warm despite being missing. And yet you still looked at him with sincere gratitude and a warm appreciation. The boy’s lips would tug into a guileful smile when you left. He’d remember your smell from the uniform. 
Imagine little boy Zandik managing to catch you every morning in the Akademiya’s hallway. He’d always approach you, so silent yet observant, but only when you weren't surrounded by your classmates and other seniors. You thought it was a coincidence that his breaks matched yours and that he’d inadvertently stay in the same remote hallways you always preferred. He was visibly reclusive when talking, but his curiosity was palpable like his gawking red eyes. He often asked you about your interests, research, classes, and frankly anything. The young trainee Dastur never got bored of hearing you ramble and rant about ancient technology or languages; instead, the boy huddled close to you, with his legs swinging gently. 
You didn’t have to know that his break schedule did not match yours. But your inconspicuous meetings became a daily routine nonetheless. 
Imagine little boy Zandik clutching onto your uniform and asking in horror: “What do you mean you’re leaving the Akademiya?!”. You informed him that although you graduated and got your thesis approved, you refused all invitations to work as a researcher or a trainee professor at the Akademiya. It wasn’t an easy decision, and you wished to withhold that information from him, but the boy was eerily observant. He saw your signed papers and coaxed an explanation from you. 
“...I’m sorry, Zandik. I have to.” - your voice filled with as you stared down at him clutching onto you. regret 
 “You can’t just leave!” - his grip on you was not firm, but it was pleading. “You are an exceptional alumni! You could become a professor in just a few years. If you wait just a little, I’ll finish my senior classes and become a junior like you, too! And- and, in just a couple of years, I’d be a student in your courses! I’ll be your best student in class, I promise!” 
The boy begged and pressed himself onto you as if you’d vanish forever. It hurt to see him like that, it hurt to say you’d leave him. You squatted down to meet his gaze.
“Zandik, it’s all right. You’re already a top A student in your class. It’s just the circumstances that are calling to me, and I’ll have to leave Sumeru. I won't be staying to work here. I’ll… have to return to my home country.” 
“You won't even stay in Sumeru…? But your theories on ancient technologies, the ruin guards, the anthropology of the Cataclysm… a-and me - you can’t just leave it all behi-'' Znadik's lips were shut with your palm, trying to keep him at bay and not cause a scene. It took a while to shush him, and you’ve never seen him in such enraged distress.
“As much as I loved my studies and research, I… do not wish to stay in the Akademiya. This institution would not be so welcoming if I were to pursue my theories. This is not the academic career I desire.” 
Imagine little boy Zandik not understanding at the time. Why would the Akademiya not be happy with your topics of interest? What’s so wrong with learning about Khaenri'ahan technology? You’re Khaenri'ahan. What’s wrong with your thesis on the origins of cataclysms throughout Teyvat? He read them, he worships them, and you determined to leave it all behind? 
Imagine little boy Zandik concealing his choked anger as he whispered “... You would leave me behind?”. He never confessed he was the one who stole your notebooks numerous times, or how he reads your papers at night with a flashlight, or how he stole your uniform to relish your scent and imagine it was you he was holding tightly. 
He could’ve held you. He could’ve done many things if you stayed. Now his last anchor in this cursed institution was gone. 
Imagine little boy Zandik glaring daggers at a classmate named Sohreh, who blurted out once: “So what if some random alumni left the Akademiya? It’s not like their research was the most unique one… students come and go, right?” 
Imagine little boy Zandik is no more. Because after 400 years, in his place stood a dangerous man, deemed a heretic and the 2nd of the Fatui Harbingers. He would achieve great scientific length, no matter how immoral and heretical they were, all thanks to the inspiration of your works when you were young. His works in creating segments were not for naught, because his influence was used for both the Fatui’s and personal gains too. Personal, as in scavenging the corners of Teyvat and Abyss to locate you. 
Imagine Dottore finding you, after almost 400 years, instead of the little boy you once knew. Because that little boy from the Akademiya never stopped imagining you being back.
➻ A small illustration of Zandik that I did for this fic is here too :)
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icedmochalattee · 5 months
Note
How about yandere Shenhe with a reader who is always sleepy, in the middle of a concersation they just drop and falls asleep.
Maybe with non-consensual Somnophilia😖
I can relate a lot to this ask anon, for I too am always sleepy and a Shenhe lover 😌
Content Warnings: Non-con, yandere themes, somnophilia, unhealthy relationships, implied sleep disorder, afab!reader.
Major content warning: this post contains non consensual sex so please do not read if this is potentially triggering
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Shenhe
She finds is incredibly adorable how sleepy you always are.
She loves watching you fall asleep mid conversation or while she’s telling you stories of when she lived with Cloud Retainer.
She does worry though about you falling asleep somewhere dangerous, what if you fell asleep while out in the middle of nowhere? What if you fell asleep on the Harbor and somehow fell into the water and drown?
Regardless of whether or not you can control it she does feel proud of herself knowing that even if your mind doesn’t agree, your body trusts her enough to be so vulnerable in her presence.
Whenever you fall asleep she’ll make sure to cover you up with blankets or if you’re in public she’ll cuddle you to keep you warm.
One of the most protective girls you will ever meet, she will not let another soul lay a finger on you regardless of if you’re awake or asleep.
Definitely has stalker tendencies, even before she had kidnapped you she would come to your house at night and just watch you sleep. She wanted to be ready to keep you safe if anyone tried anything.
She also just loves being able to look at you as much as she wants when you’re asleep, if you’re unconscious you can’t tell her she’s staring too much or that her looks aren’t appropriate.
NSFW after this
Which is why she absolutely loves to fuck you while you’re asleep, you’re so much easier to handle in this state. She can do anything she wants to you, touch you anywhere she likes without fear of contest.
She was cautious at first, she tested your limits to see just how heavy of a sleeper you are or what would wake you up.
She was very pleased to find out that when you were passed out like that there was almost nothing that could wake you up, not even her hands down your pants caused you to rouse…
One again you had fallen asleep and she was bored without someone to talk to, deciding to play with your body to entertain herself.
She runs her chilly hands all over your body, lingering on your chest. She massages the flesh of your tits, pulling taught nipples between her well manicured fingers and tugging them.
Her lips latch onto your neck, kissing and nibbling gentle enough not to leave marks. Her touch is ice cold and despite your sleeping state you shiver.
She sucks one, very light, mark just behind your ear. Surely there it wouldn’t hurt…you’d never find one so far out of sight.
She then makes her way kissing down your body, landing right over you chest as her hand falls to the waistband of your trousers.
Long, slender fingers rub up and down your sex as she watches you, loving the way your body reacts to her even in your sleep.
She’ll take one last look at you, making sure you’re still asleep, before allowing herself to plunge her fingers deep inside of you. The contrast of your warm walls squeezing around her chilly hands practically makes her eyes roll back.
She thrusts her fingers in and out of you at such a slow pace, she wants to feel every inch of your body, pull every reaction from you she possibly can.
When the palm of her hand brushes against your clit your body jolts forward on its own accord. Did that feel that good? She wonders to herself before bringing her thumb to rub circles on that same area.
She’s loving the way your body welcomes her and the way you sound, whining softly in that raspy, sleepy voice she loves so much.
With a few more swipes of her thumb she can feel your walls spasm and clamp down on her, telling her how close she has you.
Being the ever generous lover she is she doesn’t stop, staying deep inside you even after you’ve already come down from your high…
When she feels you start to stir she immediately withdrawals her hand, fixing you back to exactly how you were when you had fallen asleep.
She wants to keep this as her little secret <33
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mayullla · 7 months
Text
Title: But he didn't want to let go.
Character(s): Neuvillette (Genshin Impact)
Summary: Part 2 to There is no love here.: Neuvillette did want to let you, he didn't want to lose what he already had but also tried to make it grow into something more. He didn't realize that he had already destroyed it. Warnings/tags: Yandere themes, fem!reader, arrange marriage, one-sided love, unrequited love, unrequited pining, jealousy, possessive behavior, angsty, creepy Neuvillette watching you sleep, 6.1k words
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Late in the night he could not help but stare, your closed eyes sleeping so peacefully in your own bed away from his own. Was this normal... for a husband and wife to sleep away from each other? In different rooms as if they were strangers. Silent questions darkly swirl in his mind, he felt almost broken as he watched your sleeping form. His strength seeped away too quickly as he could not help but crave your touch.
He stayed there, for how long he doesn't remember. Unable to leave your side yet never touching as if scared that this world that he lived in would crack and shatter. He could not move at all, not even when you start to stir your eyes slowly fluttering open.
"Hmmm... you are awake" Pushing yourself from the bed slowly with one arm to support your body. He didn't answer silently, looking at you as you yawned and rubbed your eyes. Looking to the side, the window you could see the dark dreary sky as rain fell from the darkened clouds. 
He watched as you looked at him, eyes still sleepy and tired yet there was also understanding. Did you understand that he was crying for you? He doubted it, yet he could not help but hold his breath. 
That same hand that rubbed you rubbed your eyes was tiredly raised towards him, the palm down as if you were reaching for him.
Neuvillette looked at your hands reaching out towards the air, awkward and unsure of what to do at this moment. Was he supposed to take your hand and hold you up when he was caught sneaking into your room? When he didn't make a move, he watched your eyes still sleepy and hazy, soon giving up as you pushed yourself out of the bed by yourself to the floor. Your slippers were forgotten as you rubbed your eyes again to get more of your sleep out.
He thought that you would ask him again why he was here, if not you would ask him if he was okay and to talk... Yet instead of talking you took his hand and pulled him away from your bedside, leading him out of the room.
Your hand holding his, Neuvillette started at your hand so foreign on his. It was odd and uncomfortable. Why? He didn't understand why he thought so when he had escorted you many times even in the past and even now. What was he thinking back then? When you were by his side. You would wrap your arm around his own or how he would take your hand to support you when you walked out of a vehicle or steep stairs. 
Then he realized that this was the first time that the two of you held each other's hands bare without any leather gloves or dress gloves covering each other's hands.
Your hands, well taken care of were soft and delicate, unlike his calloused and rough hands always working and writing. The feeling of your hand in his was unique, unlike anything else that he ever held, it was something that made his heart beat. 
Your hold on his hand was light, still tired from your sleep. If he wanted it with just a little strength he could break out from your grasp yet instead he made sure that you would keep holding his hand. His body tensed thinking that you would drop his hand because of the lack of strength. He didn't want that. He didn't want that at all. 
Time was either too fast or too slow, Neuvillette wasn't sure as you and him went out of your bedroom and into the kitchen yet he could only wish for it to be a little longer. He could not help but almost voice his want when your hand dropped his. As if the coldness of Fontaine's night made his hand become ice without your hand. 
He watched you silently, too awkward to speak for once he wanted to say something yet could not as if his tongue was tied into multiple ribbons too complicated to unknot. You seem not to care for this silence as if you were already so used to this. Why were you so used to this? Why didn't you look surprised at all that he was here? 
The clicking of pots and pans, and the sound of pouring water in the dimly lit kitchen was all he could hear as you started to boil water to prepare tea and also plate some desserts. 
He watched you place the teapot on the table, also getting teacups and a plate for something to eat. Taking a seat on the opposite side of the table you took a sip of your tea staying quiet. Neuvillette examined you as you drank your tea, tiredness still evident in your eyes but the sleepiness was all gone.
He continued to stare at you, and you let him. He doesn't know how long you and him have been in the kitchen, yet the tea that was steaming hot had now cooled in his hand as you looked at him. Your eyes were calm and inviting, inviting him to tell his thoughts, to still the anxiety tinted in his eyes.
But for the first time, he didn't want to. You didn't know these confusing and obsessive thoughts, dark and muddy, unlike the clear waters of Fontaine. He dreaded the idea that you would ever find out…It disgusted him so much that he was like this yet he was still unable to control these emotions. 
"I am okay now... I... I apologize for disturbing your sleep." Neuvillette apologized only for you to shake your head, the soft smile on your lips was enough to tell him that you would do it again. That it was okay to look for you.
It was okay you told him, a soft voice that promised to be by his side whenever he felt lonely or needed help. He could not help but wonder just for a moment if he impulsively asked would you listen? If he asked you to stay by his side every single moment never to leave him would you do it?
It was later that you told him that he would look for you late at night when stress had been catching up to him. This was not the first time you had woken up with him right beside your bed.
Neuvillette could not help but sometimes watch you from his seat when trials were held, high up the court it was easy to see you in the corner of a front seat that he had arranged for you. Sometimes you would visit the Opera Epiclese to watch a trial of your interest. While not often you would ask him to reserve a seat for you if there was a spare. Even back then he made sure you would have a seat however now he would offer you a seat there hoping that you would accept it.
Neuvillette could not help but hope for those moments to happen more often sometimes as when he finally had the free time you would often come with either a packed or bought lunch, dinner, or just snacks for the two of you. That on those stressful moments, he could relax just for a moment with you by his side.
Sometimes you would tell him of something that happened while you were coming here, or maybe you told him the show that you watched with the tickets he had gotten you just a week ago. Mindless chatter it would be hard to go into something deep or important without the privacy of home or his office. Not when people were always looking at you and him.
But he could not help but listen wholeheartedly, keeping all your words in mind, feeling almost like he was in a trance as he watched you talk. The light danced in your eyes in amusement at the story you were telling. The smile that graced your lips as you recall the memory. There was nothing more beautiful than that for him.
"What do you want?" Neuvillette asked, words finally pushed out of his lips like removing the boulder that was stuck in his throat that had been there for a very long time. You looked surprised at his sudden question, tilting your head as you covered your mouth with your hand. 
"Pardon?"
"Is there something you would like to have?" Neuvillette asked again patiently waiting for an answer, yet his hold on his pen was tight as he wondered what you were going to say. The answer didn't come immediately, instead, you were deep in thought.
Both of you were in his office while he worked on a few documents. You were at the other side of the room reading a book when he suddenly asked that question.
It was not often he would ask this question, most of the things you touched in shops and stores all fell into your hands the next day when you first got married a long time ago to the point that you had to nag him to stop this. Neuvillette wanted to keep the promise to your parents that he would give you everything that the meka following you had recorded all the things you looked and touched. It was overdone, and rather than happy and satisfied you told Neuvillette that this wasn't what they meant.
He still bought gifts but not as many as before after that, both sides compromising to certain degrees that you would accept them while he would not suddenly send over 30 boxes of articles of clothing in one day. If you absolutely needed something you got it by yourself, though rarely would you need something so expensive. So in a sense you were satisfied with what you have, you have nothing you necessarily want.
Yet expressing that you could not understand his reaction, silent for a moment as he nodded at your words. 
"Alright..."
You didn't understand why he was acting like this and when you heard a knock on the door you left glancing back once in wonder and concern but in the end, forgetting about that moment. Neuvillette watched you from the corner of his eyes, whatever expectations he had crushed when he thought that there was a chance that you would ask for something else. This delusion that he tried to weakly make that you want what he wanted just as desperately.
Yes... that chance was one in a million something that was never going to be.
Just for a moment, Neuvillette had become bitter about the whole situation. 
Still hot to the touch you waited for it to cool down and instead took a cookie from the tray as you looked up at the people passing by at the outdoor cafe seats. This was usually one of your personal times alone, something that you often told him about when you saw something interesting that happened that day. You enjoyed such hobbies, still finding interest in humans and their minds alike even after marriage.
Unlike before, he was here this time.
It wasn't the first time in a hundred years that you and he went out. He took the time every so often to be with you still, even if it wasn't the lovey-dovey couples date that the novels love to express they were still enjoyable enough. It took care of most rumors or whatever people love to think of. You were always like that, even in an arranged marriage you cared about his reputation not wanting any rumors to tarnish it.
It wasn't something he expected to be honest at first, when you told him so long ago that you would never love him. He didn't think you could go this far. But you did because he was your husband... even if you didn't love him.
Sometimes you and he would go for a walk around Fontaine, the Melusine ones that have a trill for adventure or maybe stumbled into an area would often tell you and him about the some pretty areas that you didn't get the chance to see before. You and Neuvillette would listen to them when they talked to you, both of you with soft smiles sometimes making mental notes for presents. Those lead to small shopping dates between the two of you and for others to see.
Some shopkeepers were familiar with your visits, and asking if you were searching for something in imparticular with your husband had created an image of him being more than a judge. Someone who was soft in heart. (Though that image would quickly be forgotten when they were forced to stand trial under his watchful eyes. That image just never sticks for long...)
Other times he would tell you of shows and events happening around the Opera Epiclese when there was a lack of trials asking if you were interested in joining stating that he would reserve a seat for the both of you which more often than not you accepted.
This was enough for you.
There was never more to it, aside from a few times you ate out at restaurants which would not result in much as the two of you would return home for the night or he would abruptly get called due to some serious matter. 
How odd it was for you Neuvillette noticed that he started joining your many walks alone around the Court of Fontaine. Usually, he would tell you that he needed paperwork to be done yet not as much anymore. Instead, now he was demanding those moments with you. 
Most times you would tell him where you would go now he would ask, his voice a little sharp when he saw you dressing up but didn't tell him where you would go. There was a tint of accusation in his voice which he was able to hide, yet his eyes hardened as he asked why you were taking the time to dress.  He could not hide his anxiety though, a pained tone of voice barely hidden away.
something he didn't ask often he would now constantly would ask you if you would be visiting him. Seeing that he asked you did say that you visited a few times, but you still remembered that one time you declined stating that your schedule was unfortunately rather full that day. His eyes dyed with hurt and anxiety.
It was more often that rain fell high from the sky, more often that you would look at him worried. It felt that both you and him were walking on eggs, yet he could not help himself not when you would look at him more often than before. That he had occupied your mind. That you were by his side. That you were looking at him. 
That he was in your world. 
"Is there something in my face?" Neuvillette asked, looking at you with that solemn look on his face. You knew what he looked like when he smiled, a soft look as his eyes lightened up was just the opposite of what you were looking at right now. What were you looking at now?
"No. I apologize." You shook your head leaning on your chair a little more. Looking elsewhere but at him, for a moment he could not help but inwardly frown the bottom of his chest frustration and unease curled only to be gone the moment you looked at him again looking as if you were reminded of something. "How was work?" You asked, taking a sip of your tea right after.
".... Nothing much has happened apart from the trials that I told you." Neuvillette frowned thinking, there was nothing that was interesting to talk about his work. Nothing was more interesting to him than you.
Even when you asked about Furina the Hydro archon you have gotten a rather blunt answer that she was doing well. He didn't care much for her either, yet he could not help but stop for a moment.
When you asked him about Wriothesley, the muscles in his face all stiffened while his eyes narrowed. "May I ask why you are asking about him?" He asked his hands holding the teacup, his back straightening. It was as if one wrong word would cause something horrible to happen.
You could not help but raise an eyebrow at his question but you didn't say anything, "I am just wondering, his work is something related to yours after all. I have met him a few times too and I do adore the small dear right beside him." Small cute red eyes looked at you curiously the first time you met. It was easy to get close to her as the two of you would talk about her stories and thoughts.
You didn't see the expression on Neuvillette's face but you did hear his answer. "Wriothesley is doing fine. His work isn't easy but he is always alert and keeps an eye on the prisoners... Would that be a fitting answer?" You casually nodded at his question, taking a sip from your drink. The waiter soon arrived with another teapot with hot tea.
Neuvillette could not find a way to calm himself, as he stared at his tea. His mind was going around in crazy circles almost drowning in his thoughts. The idea that another man was in your thoughts was a vile feeling as if some sort of sticky sludge clung to his chest never letting go.
It was nauseating.
But he kept them in his heart, never letting those feelings out no matter what. It wouldn't do any good to tell less you think that he was accusing you. Whatever your relationship was he felt like it was only standing on a thin line that one wrong step at that moment would break it.
It scared him, it scared him so much that suddenly you would look at him instead towards another man. When you looked at him he would see nothing there but only recognition and friendliness that he didn't want. That he was worth nothing more than the man. 
"Dear...? Dear." Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, concern in your eyes. He blinked for a moment realizing that he had zoned out and that you had been talking to one of Steambird's journalists, Charlotte. Both you and her had concern evident in your faces, looking at each other and then at him again.
"I am fine... Thank you for your concern."
He reassured you and her that he was fine, and while Charlotte chose to believe it thinking that work was just catching up to him it seemed that you didn't believe them. 
You were sharp, or maybe it was because you had been his wife for such a long time. Neuvillette wondered if you knew his thoughts and if he would like you to actually know what he was thinking… yet at the same time to him it was a terrible thought.
Yet it seemed that there was a small surprise today.
Charlotte's eyes sparkled as she looked at you and him, pushing her glasses as she readied her kamera. "It might be too much to ask but I was wondering if I could get a show of affection between you two, a kiss on the cheek or something." Her request startled the two of you, eyes widening a little at what she wanted.
"Unlike before we are now starting to see you and Neuvillette started to spend more time together. We often see you holding each other's arms but never more than that people are curious if you guys even show affection towards each other!!" Charlotte explained. She tried to say it as casually as possible yet Neuvillette saw the seriousness in her eyes. This would be a huge scoop if it would actually happen.
"Sorry dear, but this is a little too embarrassing for me." You apologized to Charlotte, a hesitant smile on your face as you turned down Charlotte's request. Neuvillette watched as you gently yet vaguely answered her, kindly giving a reason as to why you didn't want to do such a thing. Most would say to mind their own business that whatever they do should not be something that they should care about. 
But you and he were in the end likened to idols or celebrities to some degree and no matter what you do people would watch and judge for themselves, snapping back at them would only cause a negative image rather than be helpful. You seemed to know that very well after being married to the Chief Justice for a long time now.
However, Neuvillette could not help but wonder if that was what you really think. If you wouldn't mind doing that sort of display in front of others if you truly loved that person. One where you were loved and kissed even in the privacy of just the two of you instead of sleeping in separate bedrooms in a loveless arranged marriage.
He always found it awkward to be in the public eye often. Other than a few specific reasons or important schedules Neuvillette doesn't show himself much. But here he was right beside you, following you as you shopped and walked around the city as you often do. 
He watched your eyes always taking in the beauty of human life around you. It wasn't something that he particularly noticed before only thinking that you and him were similar in some ways but unlike him people were more willing to come closer to you, willing to talk to you more than him. The friendly eyes, as they greet you familiar towards your visit only for their eyes to widen when they see him. It made his heart bitter again, far too often that he realized again and again that he was not in your world.
Even between you and the Steambird journalist Charlotte. It seems that the two of you were also close judging from the closeness of both of you or how Charlotte while still a journalist was rather comfortable around you and you around her. He wondered who else you knew, who else you were close to. 
Was there someone in there you had eyes for?
Who could be potentially someone who could take you away from him? The muscles in his face stiff again at the thought that someone could potentially take you and you would accept their love… rather than his. That you would abandon him freed from the contract of a marriage without a single lick of love.
That night there was heavy rain till early morning.
"Excuse me miss, may I join you for tea?"
You turned your head away from the street and looked to your side to see a young man smiling at you holding a cup of his own drink. Ginger hair with a boyish smile. Yet his smile didn't reach his eyes, lifeless and dull. His clothes also told you that he was not from here, but instead from another nation.
Examining him for a moment you lifted up your teacup taking a sip. Your eyes narrowed at his figure. He was quick to pick up your reaction, "Ah miss please, I have just arrived from Snezhnaya and am looking for a place to rest. All the tables are full here in the cafe." His eyes lingered for a moment on your ring as if he acknowledged that he noticed the ring on your finger and didn't have any hidden intentions of that sort. When you both met eyes he gave you a closed-eye cheeky smile when you dropped your guard just a bit. 
You thought for a moment but in the end, you let him sit, having no reason to be greedy over an empty chair and space on the table. 
"Thank you." The young man smiled. 
He was quite the chatter while sharp enough never to talk about sensitive topics he had told you about many places around Teyvat that he had visited. You had also asked him a few questions of your own, curious to many of his stories. It was easy to talk to him, time passed quickly as he told you of the many people that he met. "I in particular like the traveler. You must have heard about them seeing that they are making a name for themself wherever they go." 
"Aside from your love for fights, you seem to have an interest in people." What was his name that he told you to call him... Childe? Childe had a curious look on his face with a tint of mischievousness at your words. "Oh, that is a first. What made you think so?"
You hummed touching the teapot, the liquid had become cold. You would need to call the server soon. "Humans are fascinating." You admitted vaguely.
"For someone curious like you it is hard to believe that you have only stayed in Fontaine most of your life." Childe stared at you, it was obvious that he knew who you were and he knew that you knew him. A harbinger and the wife of the chief justice, what an odd pair to be drinking tea together. 
But even then, it seemed that even if the two of you knew who each other was, there was still a hint of friendliness while a little fake was still easy to get used to. Yes... Right now you were just strangers talking to each other. "Haha, you are a very interesting person." he chuckled, leaning on the chair with a sly smile on his face but you could see the genuine amusement in his eyes.
"I know, how about I show you around next time. I will show you the best places that I found in each nation that I have been to." Childe raised his hand with a grin on his face. "I think we get along splendidly from this small chat. We would be amazing travel partners if you ever decide to travel. Plus you get to see more people, which is not limited to hmmmm... here."
There were a lot of implications in his words, more sensitive people would have taken offense to his words yet you stayed still. Thinking for a moment...
It wasn't like you never thought of it, while not with a harbinger but maybe traveling alone, seeing and meeting people. Fontaine people have a unique view of life compared to other nations that you have noticed when you chatted with those outside of Fontaine. But in the end, you declined his offer after chatting a little more, both of you parted ways. Childe had mentioned that he would not mind chatting with you a little more next time and would join your table if he finds you here again.
Saying your goodbyes you started to head home when you saw your husband at a corner of a shop. Zoned out and deep in thought, yet quick to notice you. "You... you are here. Did work finish early?" You asked him, walking to his side surprised that he was here.
There was a moment of silence as he looked at you.
For a moment again you thought you saw something in his eyes, a kind of madness swirling deep within that you never once saw in your life married to him. His hold over your arm was tight, almost clinging yet not enough to point out. 
It was like a crack, a sound that could not be heard, a thing that could not be seen. Neuvillette could not let you go as if the anxiety had finally taken over and destroyed whatever limits he had placed. That moment he realized that you could actually leave him than just his own mind imagining that situation broke him. Even you were startled but how forward he became, desperate to be by your side, desperate to keep you there. 
At home, he would follow you and outside when work didn't force him to come to the office as soon as possible, he took all your personal space. Even outside he was no better, his hand holding your wrist as he took you with him to his office. He didn't want you out of his sight, not one moment.
Dreading that even for a moment someone else could take it.
It was stressful... 
Stressful for both of you. You tried to calmly bring the topic out, try to understand why Neuvillette was acting like that but he would just not budge. He refused to talk, to explain why he was acting like this.
Both sides were stressed. On one side it was a silent desperation, shown by rough actions while the other side could not understand, trying but lost. Neuvillette knew he was causing a strain in this relationship. Yet he didn't know what to do, he didn't have anyone to talk to, no one to ask who could help. It drove him insane as he clung to you while demanding that you stay by his side.
It took a moment, just a moment for it to crack. For everything to shatter, the moment he saw your eyes, that moment he saw you starting to lose hope. Eyes that started to become frustrated, and so close to bursting.
He let go of your hand as if it burned him...
As you grabbed your wrist pain in your eyes he finally understood that he had made a mistake. This relationship that he desperately wanted to keep and grow had shattered into a million pieces. There was no way that he could fix this anymore.
He could not help but stare at your sleeping form, thinking about whatever that you and he had in the past. The two of you were never a normal couple, it wasn't a marriage out of love but there was something else there. A tenderness and gentleness between you even without that love.
He just could not remember them, he could not remember those moments when he had become so obsessed with this unrealistic relationship that he could not have. It hurt him. It hurt him so much that he had hurt you.
He watched you steer from your slumber, the dark circles under your eyes prominent over the worry of this relationship that he had caused a strain to. Even when you woke up he didn't move from his spot.
"Please..." 
In the dead of night, you stare at Neuvillette in surprise, a cautiousness that was once never there. He felt dirty, so dirty that no water could ever clean him from this feeling.
"Please... don't leave me..." He begged and begged again, "Please... Please love me." He wanted nothing more than to burn himself yet he could not… he was scared to ever leave your side. He was desperate. He was greedy. Slowly he got on his knees, his shaky hand reached for your hand and placed his forehead on it.
"I do not understand." You said he could hear the hesitation in your voice, the hurt that he had made. His head was still down, as he held onto your hand tightly but not enough to hurt you. It was desperate, there was fear as you watched his hands and arms shake. You could feel a warm wetness in your skin, not like the cold rain that fell from the sky.
"Please..." his gasping words were so broken and pained. You tried to pull away, your mind was still so confused and alert. Yet your hand didn't budge for he was scared that the moment he let go you would become nothing more than vapor. 
"Wha.... What happened to you." Your voice was low and cautious yet at the same time still worried for the man that was supposed to be your husband, the man who was supposed to love you. You looked down at him from your bed, him on the floor as he continued to hold your arm, his head still down.
From outside the window, the howling wind and heavy rain knocked the house roof and windows. It looked like those fairytales of knights sneaking into the princess's quarters just to pledge their loyalty to her.
But it was far from it.
"Please love me... Love me and don't leave me... I will give- do anything… anything you ask. I love you so much. Please do not abandon me." His deep voice tried to stay calm but there was just so much turmoil in it.
You were silent, silent and frozen to his words. He could not look at you. He didn't want to see your reaction. He didn't want to see disgust and hatred in your face. Any moment you would pull your hand away and anger in your voice as you told him to get out. He would not know what to do then. He didn't want to let go.
But instead of that, instead of pushing him away, you moved your free hand to hold his face. Gently pushing him to look at you, guided by your hand he could not help but have his breath leave him as he looked at your tired smile. So beautiful, and stunning under the dim lights from the outside street lamps.
"Neuvillette... I would never abandon you. Why would you ever think that." You loudly whispered, clear but Neuvillette could not believe his ears.
"This marriage was not decided by love but arranged..." Words were leaving his mouth before he could think, he wanted to stop himself, stop himself before you could truly leave him. But he could not stop. "When you truly fall in love your heart will be with them. I fear... I fear that you would leave me at that moment if you find that something irreplaceable."
You stayed quiet at his words, thinking, yet pause seemed to cause fear in his heart as he looked up towards you. He wanted to confirm if he really was correct. If your face hinted at anything of that sort of secret that you were hiding. What must he do to make you stay? What should he do to keep you with him? To keep whoever in your heart away from you. Send them away? Accuse them of false changes so that he could send them away never in your sight? 
Never in his life did he ever have such thoughts yet even after living for long he could not calm the fear that was bursting out. What does he have to do to keep you here? That harbinger who invited you to travel with him all of Teyvat, were you interested in him? What must he do to keep you from leaving? Should he shackle you here so that only he could see you and your eyes could only look at him? His eyes could not help but widen and his thoughts halted when you touched his face placing a kiss on the crown of his head.
The warmth still lingered even as you pulled away, which sent a shiver down his spine. Your hand was comforting on his cheek... Neuvillette truly couldn't let go of this warmth, he could not. It was as if he wished he could dig deep into your warmth and stay there, he wanted nothing more than your touch, he wanted nothing more than your love.
You called out his name, as you pushed his wet hair away from his face. "You are right that this marriage was made from an arrangement and not from love. But like you promised my parents you took care of me and gave me many things. You continue to care for me and I also saw many sides of you. The Melusines adores you and also loves you like a father. I saw that. You are busy and have done many things but still have in mind me your wife, always making time to talk and be with me." 
You continue to list more and more things that you have experienced by his side yet instead of finding comfort, tears fell from his eyes as he was again reminded that he unknowingly threw away everything.
"Stay... stay forever with me," Neuvillette asked again, pushing his face to your hand. When you nodded, a soft whisper of ‘yes’ did his hands finally let up the strength from the tight hold on your arm. gently you placed his head on your lap as he hugged your waist. His hold was tight but you didn't mind as you started to comb his hair with your fingers. 
This was not okay, he knew that this was not alright yet... for now, this was enough for him. Later on, this would spiral more and more down as he watched himself demand more and beg more but for now, this was okay, that he had your promise that you would never leave him.
This much was enough for now.
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Note: This took a while to write so I hope you enjoyed reading this! There will also be no part 3 to this for those curious~
Edit1: So there ended up being a part 3 to this which is here: link anyway hope you enjoy the story!
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vivalabunbun · 1 year
Text
Do I Meet Your Qualifications Now?
Summary: A promise made long ago resurfaces during a night of drinks with colleagues. 
Word Count: 8.2k (now this is the longest fic I’ve ever written)
Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Smut(r18), NSFW, MDNI, Modern AU, Childhood Friends AU, Office au? kinda, Mutual Pinning, Fluff, slight dubcon, slight angst, mentions of office sexual harassment, creepy boss, mentions of marriage, slight yandere!alhaitham, slight mentions of breeding maybe? Jealously, possessive!alhaitham, you enjoy drinks at a tavern with the sumeru boys.  
Authors note: This is my first smut in a long long time, I just thought about how alhaitham’s bottled up emotions will one day bubble over, inspired by a small ramble of mine lol. Enjoy. 
side note: here is a small continuation after this story
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You needed a drink, something strong enough to forget about your growing workload that your paycheck no longer justified. With each new stack of paperwork that reached your desk, the resignation form became increasingly more appealing. You were drained by the time you clocked out at 6 pm, after having to attend 4 meetings throughout the day, all of which could have been a simple email. 
“No no, this company has good 401K matching, paid time off, and dental included. 401K and dental, 401K and dental.” You chanted to yourself, trying to steel your resolve against throwing your two weeks' notice in the face of your manager who has been pushing more and more of his work onto you. 
All while having the gall to be flirty. As if that ugly gold band wasn’t visible on his finger. Your cheeks hurt after having to hold your business professional smile for the past eight hours. The moment you stepped foot beyond those sliding glass doors, massaging your sore face with one hand. 
‘It should be happy hour now, better get a spot at the bar now,’ you thought as you took off your stiff blazer. 
You swore one day you’ll catch a cold from constantly subjecting your body to the dramatic shift of your tundra of an office to the sauna that was Sumeru’s climate. Ugh, stupid professional dress code, and stupid you for deciding to wear your new heels today. The back of your ankles felt raw despite the thin layer of your stockings reducing some of the chafing.
As the saying goes, thank god it was Friday, even though you couldn’t take a half day like so many of your co-workers, you were just glad to finally be out of sight from your manager with wandering eyes. 
Pushing in the wooden doors to the tavern, you were quickly engulfed in the busy hustle and bustling of servers delivering rounds of glasses to rowdy tables and the hearty drunk laughter of flushed faces. 
‘Damn, it’s this crowded already.’ You felt your shoulders drop, ‘should I just pick up some wine on the way home then?’ Another sad weekend spent in your stuffy apartment, great. 
Just as you were about to turn on your heels, you spotted a familiar flash of blond hair. Was that Kaveh? You squinted your eyes to focus on that spot of blond through the wave of patrons. 
“HA! I’m telling you there is no way that shrewd man got his position without some sort of shady dealing. I bet he’s got some dirt on some higher-ups.” 
Yep, that was definitely Kaveh, you immediately recognized that dramatic shrill in his voice. You heard it many times during your college days together, increasingly so whenever he had an architecture final due. He was at a large table, there seemed to be plenty of room for one more person. Swiftly, you made your way through the crowd to tap the blond man on the shoulder, disrupting him mid-rant. 
“Kaveh? Oh my god, it is you. It’s been so long. How’ve you been?” You feigned surprise. 
“Oh? Oh!” His eyes lit up with recognition. “My college savior! How’ve you been? Come, sit down and drink with us!” 
Score, you’ve successfully secured a seat at the tavern. Thus, you avoided wallowing in self-pity alone on your beaten couch. You meet eyes with two unfamiliar faces, the trio seemed to have been setting up a game of cards before you joined, or before Kaveh began to rant about whatever he rants about. 
After a quick round of introductions and placing your order for a glass of sweet wine, you were quickly acclimated to their conversation. Tighnari was a part of the research and development team, while Cyno was the head of company security ensuring no classified information gets leaked to competitors. Kaveh, you already knew was the star of the architecture design department. 
It felt nice being able to relieve stress about redundant company policies and gossip, or at the very least it was entertaining to hear Kaveh whine nonstop about them. 
“Ah, I still just don’t understand how that man got the position of head secretary. I swear he has it out for me, he refused to process my request for approval because ‘it was outside of his working hours’ and because of that my project got delayed a whole week! There is no way he climbed the ranks with that work ethic!” 
You did not even have to ask who the subject of Kaveh’s dismay was, it was quite obvious to the 3 of you at the table. 
“Just because I can manage a healthy work-life balance, does not mean my work ethic is mediocre. My work hours are clearly posted outside of my office, it seems that literacy has decreased.” A husky voice rang out from just behind your chair. 
You felt a slight shiver run up your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps along its journey. He was here, the main antagonist in Kaveh’s rants has finally shown his face. 
“Oh, ‘Haitham? It’s rare to see you come out of your shell of books.” You looked over your shoulder at the towering man as he loosened his tie. Scooting a bit closer to Cyno, making more room for him to sit at the last seat. 
“It is a surprise to see you here as well, did Kaveh drag you out to play a game of cards… or perhaps did he want you to foot his tab.” Alhaitham gave the blond man a slight side-eye before returning his attention back to you. 
��Hey! I can hear you!”
“It was intentional, couldn’t you tell?” 
“You-”
You let out a light giggle from behind your wine glass, noticing the sliver-haired man’s eyes turning back towards you. 
“Did you want to sample a bit of the wine? It’s sweet.” You offered your glass to him, hoping he didn’t notice the slight shiver when his long fingers brushed against yours as he accepted it. You tried to keep your face as polite as possible, not allowing your eyes to wander down along his neck as he took a sip. 
“Not bad,” he placed your glass back down in front of you. “Boss, this is good wine. I would have the same, please.” He turned his large body slightly as he called out to the tavern owner. 
Allowing you to see just how well that button-down shirt fitted his form, the top button seemed to be holding on with all its strength. 
“I thought we were all grown enough to not be entertained by mindless gossip,” Alhaitham remarked towards the table. 
“Not at all, we were just curious about the raising star of the company,” Tighnari commented. 
“There’s nothing special to talk about, I just arrive and do the task I have to before I clock out.” 
“It’s a bit odd for a man that lacks ambition to land such a high role within a year.” Cyno followed up, his eyes holding a hint of suspicion. 
“ It’s really nothing complicated. I’ve even rejected some promotions, the work of a secretary is simple, that’s why I wish to keep things this way.” 
“Ah, he’s humble-bragging now.” You hear the tan man beside you mutter as he crossed his arms. 
You also couldn’t help but feel the sting of jealousy as well. While you were proud of your childhood friend having success in his carrier, he advanced much faster than you even though you got a two-year head start. 
“Ugh, how did you stand this egomaniac for so long.” Kaveh harshly set his glass down, directing the question at you. 
Seeing this as an opportunity to tone your childhood friend down a few, you couldn’t help the slight grin that spread across your face. 
“Well, he’s always been this way,” you swirled your glass, “I guess I just got used to it.” 
“Makes sense, attitudes like his tend to develop at tender ages.” Tighnari vouched. 
“He was so cute when he was younger. This man used to pull on my sleeve and beg me to read Aristotle to him.” You stole a quick glance over your wine glass. 
“Oh? You two go that far back?” Cyno inquired. 
You hummed in confirmation as you took another sip, “I guess it’s partially my fault for not correcting him back then. But he used to have the chubbiest cheeks, I couldn’t help but be swayed. Who would’ve known that once that cuteness faded, all that’s left is a mulish man.” 
You heard Alhaitham tsk in annoyance at your jabs, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his seat. 
“Clinging onto the past will serve no benefit towards the future. Frankly, it’s a foolish thought.” 
You hid the sting in your heart with a teasing smile, hoping that it reached your eyes as well. He was right, the past was gone and over with, with little to no bearings on the future. The same stood with your relationship, childhood friends, and nothing more. 
Alhaitham had the looks, the stellar career, and was already a homeowner while being four years your junior. Even with your head start on life, it felt as if you were constantly behind him, trying to catch up. You knew one day he’ll leave you in the dust, so it is for the best that you let go of this one-sided crush. 
“Oh? Then I guess I’m released from that childhood pact then. How freeing.” You let out a slight laugh before taking a larger sip of your wine. You should probably order another glass, maybe two actually. 
The stoic man raised an eyebrow at your statement, “and what do you mean by that.”
“Aw, it looks like little ‘Haitham forgot,” you pouted. However, you could not let this opportunity to tease him slip away. 
Setting down your glass, you turned to face everyone gesturing a hand toward Alhaitham. “You see, when we were still children. He walked up to me with a flower and asked me to marry him when we grew up.” 
Instantly piquing the attention of everyone at the table. 
“Pfft, there’s no way that happened.” Kaveh let out a hearty laugh, waving his hand as if dismissing that notion. 
“Best believe it, he ignored me for a week when I told him no. Only ‘forgiving’ me after I gave him extra sweets and promised to think about it again in the future.” You supported your face with one hand. 
“So I guess you are to blame for his apatheticness? Traumatizing him so young? I’m starting to sympathize with you, Alhaitham” Tighnari scoffed. 
“Well, I apologize for my shallow taste when I was a child. I used to dream of being carried off into the sunset in a white dress by my groom.” You dramatically sighed. 
You mockingly patted Alhaitham’s arm, feeling the solid muscle hidden beneath the fabric tense up then relax at your sudden skinship. 
“Before he became an absolute tree, this guy used to be half my size and weight. Which is why I rejected him back then, I didn’t want to crush my groom to death at our wedding.” 
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Just what were your intentions when you brought up that childhood memory? Alhaitham was racking his mind, trying to pinpoint a motive, too distracted to be bothered by the snickering that permeated throughout the table. 
Your hand, which still lingered on his arm, brought pulses of heat along his skin, the hair at the nape of his neck pricking up from the sensation. 
“On the topic of marriage, have you gotten any luck so far? Found anyone special yet?” Kaveh tucked his hands under his chin, as he rested his elbows on the crowded table. 
“Ugh, Kaveh, stop you sound like my fucking mother.” You brought your hand up to your temple. Alhaitham’s skin immediately craved your touch again. 
“I’m taking that as a ‘no’ then.”
“Obviously, gosh, every time I go to visit my parents it turns into an interrogation of why I didn’t come back with a ring on my finger.” You took another swig of your wine. 
“Is that so?” Kaveh prodded, wanting the conversation to continue. 
“Honestly, at this rate, I won’t be marrying for love. I’ll be marrying to shut my parents up.” 
“Oh? And what would a husband candidate need? To be able to carry you off to the honeymoon?” 
“Har har har, Kaveh, very clever.” 
“Okay, now seriously.” 
“Well, obviously he needs to get along with my parents.” 
Just earlier this evening Alhaitham had responded to a message from your mother, telling him how thrilled they were to receive his housewarming gift basket. Your mother wishing that more young people were as considerate as he was towards his elders. 
“And I would prefer someone attentive.” 
Alhaitham did not even have to think when ordering coffee for you. A mocha with two shots of expresso, oat milk, and an extra drizzle of chocolate syrup. When it gets closer to the holidays, you liked to add one pump of peppermint syrup.
He also takes note of how your words tend to get more graphic once there's alcohol in your veins. 
“What about income, you want a man with 6 figures? 7?” 
“Ha, if my husband made 7 figures I’d run him a warm bath with rose petals, the house will be spotless, and have dinner set on the table at 7 o’clock sharp. A girl can dream, it would also mean I won’t have to see that ugly bastard’s face again.”
Roses were nice. However, lavender was much better for baths to relax the muscles. After 3 years Alhaitham was confident that he could renegotiate his salary. He knew that your organization skills violently oscillates between an absolute disaster to professional house cleaning service depending on how stressed you were. Your cooking though was always guaranteed to be delectable, 7 pm just so happened to be his preferred time for dinner. 
Pause, wait a moment-
“Huh? Is your manager still bothering you? Isn’t he already married? What a sleazebag.” 
“Tell me about it,” you were rubbing your temples more aggressively. “I’ve thought about staking my pen through his hand if he tried to place it on my shoulder again.” 
“Would you like me to file a report to HR?” Cyno looked over at you with concern and sincerity. 
“Thank you, but I’ve already tried. They said until there was hard evidence of such behavior they can’t move on with an investigation.”
“Ugh, it’s always HR protecting the top dogs once again. Seriously, I’m not even from the same department but even I can feel that slimy gaze of his whenever he looks at you. Makes me want to burn my skin off in the shower, how you withstand that is beyond me.” Kaveh, rested one over his chair, dramatically making a face to show his disgust. 
Your manager, yes, it’s been noted on several performance reports that his productivity has been on the decline. Perhaps, an additional report from Alhaitham about the suspicious disappearance of funds under your manager’s supervision would warrant a full-scale investigation. 
That fool had his wife listed as his emergency contact, the ashen-haired man wondered if he would detail her husband’s harassment of young women in his department to her. 
“Let’s move on to a different subject, shall we? I’d be damned if my Friday night is ruined by thoughts of that man.” You rubbed your thumb along the stem of your glass, a nervous habit of yours he noted. 
And with that, the drinking continued to pour, as Cyno and Kaveh began a round of cards. If you weren’t so distracted by Kaveh’s theatrical whines of how Cyno should take an easy on him, you would’ve seen the look that promised no good on Alhaitham’s face. Its true intentions are well hidden behind a stoic face. 
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“You would think he would have learned his limit by now.” Alhaitham couldn’t help but scoff at his housemate. 
The blond was absolutely hammered, slurring his words as if they were some encrypted message. Upon seeing the state that Kaveh was in, everyone unanimously agreed to call it a night. Cyno and Tighnari supported him as Alhaitham went to the edge of a sidewalk to hail a cab. 
“Are you not going to ride in the same taxi as Kaveh? You’re both going to the same destination no?” You inquired, looking up at him after he gave the directions to his house and cash for the trip. 
“And what, get puked on during the ride? Kaveh is a big boy now, I’m sure he’ll manage. Besides…” His teal eyes quickly trailed up your legs.
Your stockings accentuating the shape of your legs as they beckoned his attention towards that pencil skirt with a cheeky leg slit. Not revealing enough to be chastised as unprofessional, but oh so tempting. 
“It’s more important that I see you get home safely. Now, come.” He turned his back towards you, heading in the direction of your apartment. Not wanting to be caught staring at you. 
Throughout the walk the two of you were silent, but it was a calm silence that can only develop from a place of comfort and familiarity. The clicking of your heels and the taps of his dress shoes filled the air between you and him like a metronome. Alhaitham made sure to remind himself to match his pace with yours, lest his longer legs pull him far ahead of you. 
--
Finally arriving at the entrance of your apartment complex, you swiped your keycard to unlock the heavy security door. Perhaps it was because of the alcohol in your system but it took all of your body weight to pry the metal door ajar. You felt a small hand on your back, stopping your pitiful attempt. 
“You’re going to strain your back, here, allow me.” Alhaitham’s voice was so close to your ear that you sore the vibrations tickled it. 
Stepping aside, you allowed Alhaitham to grasp onto the side of the door as he swung the door open as if it weighed nothing. He took hold of the handle, meeting your eyes as he gestured you to enter. You felt a bit stupid for struggling so much with the door in front of him, so you quickly shuffled inside as he followed right behind you. Strolling through the lobby you finally arrived at the shiny doors of the elevator. 
“Well, I guess this is goodnight.” You looked up at Alhaitham as you pressed the call button. 
You heard the ding of the elevator arriving… only for the doors to not open.
 You pressed the button again, it dinged again, and again… then the light of the elevator flickered out. Great, just your luck, the elevator decided to break down now of all times. Further embarrassing you in front of Alhaitham. Even though his face remains stoic as ever, he probably thinks your place is shabby. 
“Ha ha, what a way to end a night. I guess I’ll be taking the stairs… You should call a cab to get back now.” You cringed a bit on the inside, why did you sound so awkward? 
The stairwell door creaked open with all the grace of nails dragging down a chalkboard, the noise almost causing a headache to form as you begin your ascension up the gray stairs. 
Only for your 6 flight journey to be halted at the second step as you stumbled. Once again, those new heels you were so excited to wear decided to rear their nasty face. Luckily, you were able to catch yourself on the solid hand railing. Sighing to yourself, you prepared to clutch onto it like a lifeline for the rest of your trek. 
Suddenly your body felt weightless as two solid arms hoisted you up, and you felt your figure way too close to a warm, built frame. 
“W-what are you doing??” Your hands were flailing as you did not know where to place them. 
“Quiet, it’s past midnight and your voice is bouncing off the walls. Do you want a noise complaint?”
“That wasn’t my question! Haitham put me down I can walk!!”
“Oh really? Did you seriously not notice how many times you’ve been tripping and stumbling on your way back? It’s safer for me to just carry you, unless you prefer tumbling down the stairs.” 
“N-no! I-” 
Alhaitham seems to be ignoring your plight as your slaps on his shoulder and arms elicited no reaction. His firm grip on your body did not let up as he effortlessly ascended the stairs, even shifting your weight a bit when he went to open the door to your floor. 
You were stone-cold sober at this point but your face was hot and flushed when Alhaitham finally placed you back down on your own feet at your apartment door. 
You couldn’t muster up the courage to thank him let alone even look at him, in case he sees the obvious red tint on your cheeks. Keys fumbling in your hands as you tried to line it with the keyhole, a small click and turn of the brass knob has your apartment ajar. 
What do you do now? Is this the final goodbye for tonight? Should you take a cold shower to purge these overwhelming emotions? 
“Um… would you like to come inside for a glass of water?” You spoke those words before you could think it through. Great, you just prolonged your suffering, great job. 
“Sure.” And much to your dismay Alhaitham agreed. 
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His teal eyes lazily observed the plush throw pillows on your sofa along with the soft blanket hastily thrown over the back of it. Alhaitham could hear you bustling in the kitchen as you prepared a glass of ice water for him. 
In stark contrast to his own walls, yours was crowded with many photos like a timeline of your life. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he observed a photo strip taped onto the side of your college graduation portrait.
It was a cheap strip of laminated plastic from some mall photo booth, but your smile was radiant as you had one hand squeezing his face trying to get the stone-faced boy to crack a smile. 
“Here, it’s on the house.” You clinked the frosty glass onto the coaster in front of him. 
He felt the sofa dip a bit more as you plopped your body on the other side, letting out a content sigh, probably finally being able to feel your feet again. He knew those heels caused you great discomfort, but he almost wished for another glimpse. 
“Thank you.” 
Once more a comfortable silence encased the air between the two of you. Somewhere along the line, your hand found its way to his gray locks, gently running your fingers along his scalp. 
“What shampoo do you use, ‘Haitham? Your hair is always so soft and voluminous. I’m kinda jealous.” He heard the amused quip in your voice. 
He both yearned and despised whenever you pet his head. As your fingers continued to rake through his ash hair he couldn’t help the rush of blood that flowed south. Yet, a pang of annoyance was felt in his chest. ‘You still thought of him as a kid’ was the message he decrypted from your actions. 
“Whichever brand is closest to me at the store. Or whichever bottles Kaveh left in the shower.” Alhaitham leaned a bit more into your touch.
“Tsk, of course.” He could hear the smile in your voice. 
There was no end benefit to be gained from his feelings towards you. In fact, his life would’ve been so much easier if only his brain didn’t release dopamine the moment he hears the slightest mention of you. 
As a person who prides himself on his objectivity and factuality, he could not explain why you were an outlier that skews his rationality. 
The peaceful moment was shattered by the sudden pierce of your ringtone, the name that flashed across the screen caused Alhaitham’s eyes to narrow. 
Manager Kimiya
The manager who has been the source of your frustrations, evident by your conversation back at the bar. Why was he calling you this late? Alhaitham observed the grimace on your face as you quickly retracted your hand from his hair, picking up the phone as you excused yourself back to the kitchen. 
Why were you answering his call? 
You were speaking in a rather hushed voice, even with Alhaitham straining his ears to try and hear just what was so important to warrant a phone call so late at night. 
“Yes, of course…. No… I see… okay… yes… I understand… yes, goodnight to you as well.” 
Before Alhaitham could stop himself, he found his form behind yours at the kitchen counter as you finally ended your call. Frown present at the corners of your lips. 
“Why did he contact you this late?” 
Your body flinched in surprise. Ah, so you did not even notice his presence behind you. As his teal eyes stared down at your smaller frame, he could feel the clawing of a green-eyed monster tugging against the restraints Alhaitham so carefully bounded it in. 
“No reason, just work stuff… mostly.” 
Mostly? Alhaitham pushed down at the monster, trying to bottle the disgusting foreboding envy. 
“Why did you answer?” 
“I just told you, Haitham. It’s for work.” 
Alhaitham’s teeth ground against each other as he clenched his jaw. The monster was thrashing around violently. 
“You didn’t have to answer.” 
Your eyes closed in annoyance as you opened your mouth, a snarky reply ready to be thrown his way. Only for it to be stuck on the tip of your tongue as Alhaitham’s arms grasped the counter at either side of you. Pinning you between the cold granite top and his towering frame. 
“Are you interested in him?” There was a dangerous edge to his low voice. 
“Did you have too much to drink?” You whipped around in disbelief, annoyance dripping from your tone. 
Your face was very close to his, nose almost touching, breaths brushing against each other’s lips. 
“Answer the question.” His voice deepened further, a dark glaze over his eyes. 
“I don’t.” You narrowed your eyes at him, inching your face closer as if to prove a point. 
Alhaitham’s restraint of the beast began to slip. He needed a moment to grasp back onto it, to regain control. No, he could not wait any more, not one second longer.
 It was as if all the past decade's worth of pinning that kept him up at night came rushing out. Bursting through the walls that Alhaitham spent years building to contain them. 
It all rushed out in a messy, heated, and disgusting wave that washed over him and drowned his rationality as he slammed his lips into yours. Capturing the soft flesh into an all-consuming kiss. It was ugly, yet it felt so beautiful. So all consumingly beautiful. 
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Your brain was trying its best to regain itself as you recovered from the whiplash, you were kissing Alhaitham. His larger frame pushes your body up against the kitchen counter, cold stone pressing up against your burning skin. His tongue brushed against your lips hungrily, asking out of courtesy for permission. Your lips parted, allowing him access as your fingers tangled into the hair at the nape of his neck. 
It was almost animalistic the way he devoured the air from your lungs, your head began to float as pleasure trailed up your spine. You harshly tugged at his ashen hair to break the near-airtight lock your lips were tangled in. 
Barely getting two much-needed breaths in as your eyes connected with lustful teal before lips clashed once more. You tasted the sweet wine that still lingered on his tongue, the sweet taste of crossing a dangerous line. 
Alhaitham released your lips then dived back into trail kisses from your glistening lips to down your face and neck. A pleased whimper escaped as you titled your head to the side, allowing him more access to your sensitive spots. 
You now had two arms thrown around his neck, back arching as his large hands began to rub your thigh over the thin fabric of your stockings. The heat from his palms and the friction creeping up to your core. You felt the suction of his mouth against your neck causing you to press your chest more into his as you whined. 
Two hands firmly gripped onto each of your legs then harshly parted them, allowing for Alhaitham’s solid torso to press up against your pulsing core. You couldn’t help the slight roll of your hips against his abs, your poor cunt begging for a crumb of attention.
The air was too hot, tension too thick, Your skirt now all bunched up as his fingers skillfully unbuttoned your shirt. You replicated his actions as you clumsily groped at his chest to locate the buttons of the dress shirt, your senses graced by the plushness of his pectorals. 
It was animalistic the way Alhaitham was claiming your skin with his kisses, every now and then marking the tender flesh of your breast and neck. ‘Fuck, how can simple kisses feel so good’ was the thought running through your hazy mind, pressing his head more against you. A hardness making itself known against your neglected wetness. Excitement spiking up inside you. 
“Wrap your legs around me.” He commanded. 
You obediently did so, locking your ankles together behind his back, intentionally rubbing your cunt against his trapped erection. Alhaitham straightened his posture as he scooted your bottom off the counter, large hands digging into the flesh of your ass then firmly squashing your core against hardness. 
The sudden movement causes you to let out a gasp. He shot you a look, warning that he did not have the patience to be teased. 
Effortlessly he carried you into the bedroom, kisses still desperately being exchanged the entire time. Tossing you onto your messy sheets, he took a moment to admire how absolutely wrecked you looked. Cheeks flushed red, lips glossy from mixed saliva, eyes teary yet burning with desire. If you looked like this from simple kisses, he couldn’t wait for what you’d look like during the main event.
With you now on your back, more vulnerable, it gave him the opportunity to finally strip the blouse off your body, exposing more of your skin. Feeling a tug at his shirt. 
“You too…” 
When you asked so shyly with those pouty lips, how could Alhaitham refuse? A silent game began, as for every piece of clothing one shed, the other would follow. Your bra, his belt, your skirt, and his slacks were now littered across your floor. Hands greedily groping at each other's flesh, a large hand cupping your breast as your hand dipped to rub his bulge through his boxers. 
“Excited?” Your confidence was boosted when you felt a small wet patch on the fabric. 
“You’re one to talk.” He scoffed. 
Hand releasing your breast to grope the contour of your pussy through your ruined panties. Harshly pressing against your eager clit, a moan tumbled out of your mouth. Alhaitham dropped his head right next to yours, baritone voice against your ear,
“See, you even soaked through your stockings. Just how wet are you?” 
Long fingers began to trace along the slit of your cunt, lazily rubbing a circle on your clit before tracing back down. Your legs wanted to clamp down on his cruel hand but with his body pinning you down it was impossible. The message was clear, you were at his mercy. 
“What do you want?” 
A simple question he asked you, but your pride would not let you answer. That bastard knows what you want, your cunt was practically sobbing for something to be buried deep in it. But he still continued his slow, torturous movement, eyes locked on your expression. You faced away from him, unable to handle the intense glaze on your flushed face. 
“Eyes on me.” His other hand squished your cheeks as he turned your face back. 
Teal and orange eyes piercing into yours, you wanted to protest, he was being so mean. His perfect face only had a slight flush, while you were certain yours was a mess. Alhaitham must have sensed this as he nudged his thumb into your mouth, letting it rest against your pink tongue. 
“Come now, use your words. What do you want?” 
Pride be damned, the burning sensation between your legs overtook your reasoning as his other hand was now harshly circling your sensitive bud. 
“Y-you.” You moaned around his thumb. 
A smug look was now plastered on his handsome face, you weren’t sure if you wanted to slap it or pull him into another kiss. 
“Good girl.” Looping his fingers into the waistband of your stockings, harshly tugging them down the length of your legs. 
He definitely ripped them, but your brain was too busy processing the words he just called. 
Shifting your body more onto the bed, he pried your legs open, giving him a direct view of your drenched panties. Snapping back into reality and suddenly now worried about your modesty you reached a hand down as if to shield your desire from his observant eyes. A quick slap to your hand echoed through the room. 
“It’s a bit late to be embarrassed now.” The same hand pushed the ruined fabric to the side before a long, thick finger was thrusted inside. 
Your head jerked back at the sudden intrusion, barely being able to bite back a moan. Your aching cunt now had a taste of what it craved so desperately, but now it only craved more. Something thicker, longer, heavier. It wanted more even as Alhaitham slipped another finger in with minimal resistance. Scissoring the digits inside of you, exploring deep inside as slick drooled out. 
You tried to suppress your moans by biting down on the thumb that still lingered in your mouth. He sucked a breath through his teeth at your actions. 
“Be nice.” He ordered, tearing his thumb out of your mouth at the same time as his fingers from your cunt. 
His two fingers coated in your juices were then shoved into your gaping mouth, giving you a taste of yourself. Wordlessly you maneuvered your tongue against his fingers, cleaning the slick from the thick digits. His cock twitched when he felt you welcome his fingers deeper into the gummy walls of your mouth.
Alhaitham wanted to play with you more, to tease your clit and pussy until it was swollen and soaking the sheets below. However, right now, he did not have the patience as the length in his boxers raged angrily. Perhaps, if his plan goes well he can save that desire for another time. 
He chuckled to himself, this is what you do to him, you turn him into a man so consumed by lust he would not even stretch you out with good foreplay. Your cunt felt wet enough, he could see how drops of slickness were trailing onto the sheets, you were ready for him. Finally releasing his member out of its confinement, he let out a small hiss that the feeling of his sensitive head rubbing along your slick folds. 
“Wait,” you got up on your elbow as another hand pressed against his toro, halting his movement. 
You swiftly reached over to your nightstand, digging through to find the box of condoms. You took a foil package out, turning back to Alhaitham you handed it to him. You did your best not to look at his member, but it was hard to when it was just that intimidating. On lonely nights, there were times you imagined what that tall, buff body hid beneath the layers. 
‘Would the condom even go over it?’ you wondered as Alhaitham stiffly ripped open the foil. Fortunately, the condom was able to encase his length, you patted yourself on the back for getting the variety pack. 
“Heh,” Alhaitham’s hands grasped the sides of your hips. “You were prepared.” 
It could’ve been your imagination, but his calm tone felt forced. Almost as if he was angry, but Alhaitham never got angry at you. 
“What’s the ma- AH!”
The concern died in your throat when the entirety of his length was thrusted into you. Your cunt clenching around him, not wanting to let go of the deep satisfaction of finally being full. Alhaitham let a quiet moan through his clenched teeth, pulling out halfway then snapping his hips back into yours.
Your hands desperately latched onto your sheets, twisting and pulling the fabric to try and ground yourself. The stretch had you stumbling over your words, never had you felt this full.  He felt so heavy inside of you, deliciously dragging against your quivering walls.  
Alhaitham followed the intrusion with a few slow thrusts, the squelch of your cunt welcoming his length sounded through the heavy air. The grip on your hips turned unyielding as his pace shifted, his hips settling on a punishing pace against your poor masochistic cunt. Moans leaving your lips without regard for your neighbors. 
“Were you expecting this tonight?” He ended his sentence with an especially deep thrust. 
You barely heard him over the wet slapping of skin, mind focused on how good it felt when his tip rammed into that one spot. Alhaitham noticed how your cunt contracted when he hit a particular place, quickly angling his hips to strike your weakness again, then again, and again. Each time he did you would let out a cry, tongue lulling out of your mouth. At this point, his fingers are for sure leaving purple marks. 
“Is that why you were at the bar?” He continued. 
The green-eyed monster clawed its way up inside him, if he had not gone to the bar earlier by chance, would you have shown this sinful face to someone else?
A voice at the back of his mind called for him to take you lovingly, to slow his pace, to caress your face with his hands and kisses. But the voice of the beast whispered in his ear to ruin you, use you to further his own pleasure, to pound the shape of his length into you. Yes, perhaps if he did that then no other man could ever satisfy you. 
“So, who did you plan to take home?” 
He thrusted his tip deeper, you swore it was hitting your cervix now. Breast bouncing along with his violent pace. A thumb dug into your swollen clit suddenly causing you to throw your head back as your mind came dangerously close to the edge of sanity. A delicious tension begins to form in your core.
“Answer. The. Question.” Each word was followed by a harsh thrust, as your bud was pinched between his two fingers. 
“Ah- ah!” Was the only reply you could muster. 
Alhaitham stilled his motion deep inside of you, heavy, thick member resting right up against your cervix. Fingers now cruelly rolling your abused clit in its grasp, making your toes curl and back arch. 
He could feel your walls convulsing around him, begging for more of his punishing thrusts, not wanting the tension to dissipate. But he didn’t want to give that to you, not until you give him what he wanted. 
“Who. Who are you thinking of? Are you imagining being pinned down like this by them?” 
Your lust-hazed eyes looked into his with confusion, brain barely able to string together a coherent thought to process his question. As if he asked you the most elaborate philosophical question. 
Even with your mind nearly liquefied by the heat of pleasure and vision blurred from tears, the self-loathing in his eyes was obvious. Releasing the sheets from your iron grip, you cupped his face as you pulled him into a soft kiss. The first of the night. 
“Y-you ah!” You moaned against his lips. 
His hand stilled for a moment, then quickly regained its pace rolling the bundle of nerves. His lips chased after yours, shallowing your moans as he pinned your body more into the mattress. 
“Say it, confirm it.” A trail connecting your lips as he pulled away. 
“Alh-ah! Alhaitham!” 
A switch was flipped as his hips sprang back into motion, the push and pull rocking the bed as your hands found refuge on his broad shoulders. The tension only grew in your core with every blow against your weak spot in tandem with the circles he was grinding into your bud. 
“Alhaitham! A-ah Alhai-yes, right there!” Shamelessly moaning out his name like you did on those desperate nights with your own fingers. 
Your toes were curling painfully from the pleasure currently engulfing your entire body, your cunt full and hair a mess. Arching your body more into his solid figure as his unforgiving pace continued to abuse your grateful walls.
The wet slooshing of your slick as your hole welcomed his member over and over again no longer embarrassed. You were growing close, the ball of tension in your core was so close to snapping, you wanted sweet release so badly. 
“P-please! Ah! Please!” You begged for him to let you fall into cloud nine. 
Quickly understanding your plead, Alhaitham continued his the motion of his hips, making sure to strike that spot with more force as his thumb rubbed your clit faster. He dipped his head down to kiss along the edge of your tear stained face. The sensation of his teeth sinking into your neck was the catalysis that finally pushed you off the edge. 
Your body pressed itself taught against his, walls clamping down like a vise around his member as the orgasm ripped through your body. Strangled moans against his ears as your vision turned white. 
He removed his thumb from your clit, now even redder and swollen, as he bit more into your neck, the sensation of your walls trying to milk him dry almost brought him over as well. However, he couldn’t let it end so fast, not when he had fantasized about this moment for years. 
He forced himself to drag himself out against the tight grip of your walls, then used his body weight to thrust back into you to continue with his rhythm. He felt his own release approaching as he stared at how your eyes were rolled to the back of your head. 
‘Would you notice if I were to rip the condom off?’ He wondered as you were still on cloud nine, but your body still responding to his moves. 
‘Would you even care? Would you want it too?’ The thought of painting your walls in white and watching as your cunt drank up his thick cum filled him with a dark desire. 
He wanted to fill you with his essence, to claim you as fully his from the inside out, to steep into every fiber of your being. His hands found purchase on your hips again as he pinned your frame below him, thrusting deeper than he had ever before into you as he spilled himself into the latex.
His body shook against yours as he panted from the exertion. 
The creaking of the bed stopped as Alhaitham pulled back to press sweet kisses to your temple, coaxing your consciousness back to reality. Using his fingers to wipe away the tears that still leaked from your eyes, as your pupils came back into view. Returning from their trip at the back of your head. There was a moment of stillness, as pants echoed through the air, breaths overlapping and caressing another. 
You felt him shift, pulling his length fully out from your gummy walls. Your cunt clentched at the sudden emptiness. You watched as he grabbed a few tissues from your night stand, then proceeded to roll the filled condom off, disposing it into the paper. 
You shut your eyes, chest still heaving at the exertion you had just put your body through. 
The sound of condoms shaking against their cardboard box made your eyes snap back open. As you watched the ashen haired man shamelessly pull another foil package out of the container. 
Oh… The night was still young. 
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--
The bright and pitched chirping of the birds outside stirred you from your slumber. Oh god, your hips were so sore, you questioned whether or not you would make it out of bed. 
Two arms firmly encompassed your waist, pressing your back against the warm source of the pain in your hip. 
As much as you hated to admit it, Alhaitham looked angelic when he was asleep. Usual stone face now relaxed and soft, the sunlight drawing blurred shapes along his skin and hair through your curtains. 
You wanted to brush the hair out of his peaceful face, fingers reaching out then freezing as the reality of last night hit you. 
You two had crossed the bold line that was drawn in the sand, now standing the cold ocean of the unknown. The questions of what your relationship had turned into violently crashed into you like unforgiving waves as you feel yourself beginning to drown in self-doubt. 
Was this a one-time thing? A closeness you will never experience with him ever again? Was this the final chapter of the story of you and Alhaitham? Did you ruin years of trust and friendship?
 The questions began to become overwhelming, you needed to get up, to just get somewhere to clear your mind. 
Slowly your tried to shimmy yourself out of his firm hold, carefully trying not to rouse him from his slumber. Only for your plan to come crashing down as his arms tightened around you, halting your motion. 
“Stay.” An uncharacteristic softness present in his tone. 
You stilled your body, heart pounding so hard against your chest you were certain Alhaitham could feel it too. Just like how you could feel the rhythmic beating of his against your back. 
His deep breaths brushed against your neck as he buried his face into the crook. Tension now hung in the air, but who was going to be the first to break it? Mustering up all the courage you could gather, 
“Alhaith-”
“I found you a nuisance when I was first introduced to you.” He began. 
You felt your heart sink at his confession, but he continued. 
“The way you dragged me out to play, fed me snacks, and especially when you pet my head. I found it all annoying… It was annoying because it would cause me heart palpitations, my breath would hitch, and my face would flush. I thought I had caught a sickness from you, a sickness that made me addicted to your presence.” 
Your heart was now jumping as if it wanted to burst from your chest, he buried his face deeper into your neck. 
“Then one day I read a book that detailed my exact symptoms. Do you know what the diagnosis was? Love - an intense, deep affection for another person. That day when I proposed with that small weed, I discovered that I was in love with you.” 
You froze, almost not believing your own ears. 
“Well of course back then I did not meet your qualifications. I hoped that the sickness would disappear. No actually, I used to pray to gods I don’t believe in that they would take you out of my head, where you always seemed to haunt . They must have cursed me because as time moved on, my illness just got worse. It began to border on mania, madness. So, please listen.” 
He turned your body in his arms so that you were staring right into his eyes, a hopeful and sincere glimmer present in the saturated teal.  
“I love you, I adore you, I wish to wake up every morning to you in my arms just like this. I want to walk through life hand in hand with you. Your parents hold me in high regard. I will get a mocha with two shots of expresso, oat milk, and extra chocolate syrup every morning for you, I can even learn to make it. If you are worried about finances, if this company doesn’t agree to my raise by the end of two years I will search for another position that will.” 
His fingers intertwined with yours as he brought your knuckles up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand. 
“And I am confident in my ability to carry you no matter what wedding dress you dawn. So do I meet your qualifications now?” 
His teal eyes looked into yours, yearning for your answer. Your eyes were wide and lips frozen. You were waiting to wake up in your messy sheets alone, fully clothed, and for the other side of the bed to be cold. This had to be a dream, this couldn’t be real. 
However, the hot tears that clouded your vision and dripped down your cheeks felt too real to be an illusion. The look of adoration in his eyes was too genuine to be conjured up by your pitiful imagination. 
“Could we… Could we take this slowly?” You whispered, squeezing his hands. 
“Of course. I’ve waited for over sixteen years, I can wait a little longer.” 
You buried your flushed face into his chest, he let your wet tears soak into his skin as he kissed the crown of your head. Embracing each other as if the other could disappear.
“I love you too.” 
--
Fin~
DON’T PLAGIARIZE, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORKS ON DIFFERENT PLATFORMS.
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bedoballoons · 6 months
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Oh wow fantastic I loved it!! now I kinda want a part two to the whole short post what did happen after finding out there darling likes tall guys how will they comfort there rival
I'm assuming you meant confront! I hope so at least cause that's what I wrote! If not I can totally write a second one! Thank you so much for your request!
─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─
{༻~Yanderes confront their rivals~༺}
This is a Part 2! Part 1:
CW: Fighting, using their obsession to get information, a knife is mentioned, Freminet trains you to like him, descriptions of blood, slight gore, confronting, yandere themes, some angst, and Lyney call reader mon amour!
(Includes: Lyney, Tighnari, Venti, Freminet, and Aether!)
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𑁍༄Lyney:
You knew Lyney was the reason Neuvillette had gone missing, it was obvious and yet no one could arrest him because there wasn't enough evidence, not to mention without the Chief of Justice...how could you have a trial? The whole of Fontaine was now in disarray, searching for Neuvillette everywhere and anywhere Lyney could have taken him, but not a single place had any results.
You didn't even know if he was still alive...but you just couldn't give up, thats what led you to this moment, honeyed words slipping past your lips and your arms around Lyney, batting your eyes at him..."Lyney, I'm all yours, Neuvillette is no longer a threat to that I promise. Let him go..." The magician sighed softly, so tempted, so enraptured by you that he almost gave it away from your beautiful eyes alone, "You know as well as I do mon amour, if I do as you ask...I'll be taken away to Meropide. Away from you..."
You bit your lip, wandering how deep into this act you'd have to go in order to convince him, "Not if they don't catch you, we can run away together... just you and me..." You kissed his cheek and he caved...unable to resist you any longer, "I can't say no to that..."
He reached out his hand, a card between his fingers...but it wasn't like any of his others, it was blue with a a outline of Neuvillette. "Neat isn't it?" Lyney asked when he'd caught you staring and with a snap of his fingers the card began to change, blue smoke circling around a spot on the ground until it sudden disappeared, leaving Neuvillette in its place...
"Neuvillette!"
He seemed perfectly healthy, shaken to say the least, but otherwise fine. It felt like you could breath again like everything would be okay...he could save you...right?
𑁍༄Tighnari:
You hadn't heard from Tighnari in over a week and you felt so guilty...after how hard it must have been to confess his feelings, you shot him down without even a moment to think if you really wanted to,... just because he wasn't exactly your type. Now he was probably in his home, regretting his decision to ever tell you how he felt in the first place...ever be nice to you at all for that matter.
You sighed, opening the door to your humble abode, only to see one of the most terrifying things even your nightmares could have prepared you for, "T-tighnari?" The fennec fox looked up at you with a crazed smile, a small hunting knife tightly gripped in his hand...the blade of it against against what looked to be a drugged Alhaitham, "You're finally home! We've been waiting for you...sorry to barge in uninvited but I had to show you that I was better than him. Let you see that I can overpower him, even though he's stronger and...taller."
You felt your chest tighten with fear, your hands shaking uncontrollably, "What... d-did you do to him Tighnari?" Meanwhile Tighnari was acting as if this was a casual hangout between the two of you, his tail swaying behind him and his ears twitching in delight, he even chuckled when Alhaitham attempted to mutter something, "Don't worry, he's just poisoned. I asked if he wanted something for a headache he was having and then I gave him something, it just wasn't what he had in mind..."
"Tighnari...let him go. T-this is crazy!" You felt tears welling up in your eyes, your body screaming at you to run for help and yet you felt frozen, unable to move a muscle. "I'm not crazy, I'm dedicated,...to you. I want nothing more than to be with you and if I have to make sure the scribe isn't able to interfere to have that, then I will." His eyes sparkled at the mention of being with you...
"...just let him go. Give him a antidote and I'll s-stay with you. Please Tighnari, don't hurt anyone more than you already have, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shot down your confession so quickly, but I'll m-make it up to you" You reached your hand out and he wasted no time accepting it, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug, all of it seeming so innocent..
"As long as you stay with me...no one else will ever get hurt."
𑁍༄Venti:
You'd never seen such a war before...archons battling against eachother, destroying the land with power far greater than you ever could have imagined, all of this...because you couldn't see yourself with someone short, what was Venti doing! By now there was a large crowd of people, some from Liyue, some from Mondstat and each of them cheering for their own Archon. There were even fights breaking out over who was better....
This had to stop. "Venti! Venti listen to me! I know you're angry and that's okay, but starting a war just because I said I wasn't into you isn't the way to feel better!" You shouted as loud as you could, but he wasn't able to hear you, the sound of large rocks crashing into the ground and highwinds ripping trees right out of the land impossible to talk over. Was it a lost cause...?
You shook your head, unable to give up at the thought of your friend getting hurt...even if he was stupid for starting it in the first place...you cared about him. You swallowed your fear and gathered up all of your courage, running into the danger zone, barely able to keep your footing while you continued to call to the anemo archon. "Venti! Vennntii!!"
Suddenly the part of land you'd been running on ripped away from the rest of the ground, flying upwards with you holding on for dear life, "Venti! Hellpp!!!" You felt your grasp slipping and then you were spinning, falling back down at such speed you'd die on impact, you shut your eyes tightly, praying for everything to be okay.
Then there was a gentle breeze surrounding you.. lifting you upwards, the entire battle out on pause when you came face to face with Venti, shocked to see him in his archon outfit, "Venti please, I'm sorry. Don't take this out on Zhongli, don't make such a big mess because of me. I'm... not worth it." You looked down at all the dilapidated area beneath you...all of this for you?
"You're worth more than every world or star in the entire universe...I'd fight to the end for you." The anemo archon touched your cheek softly.., making you feel something you never had before..
𑁍༄Freminet:
Freminet wouldn't leave your side, keeping you away from Neuvillette at any costs... pampering you with romaritime flowers and ocean shells, convincing you in ever way he could think of that he was better. He'd be there in the morning with warm breakfast and a nice hot beverage, he'd walk with you anywhere you needed to go so he could keep you safe and...people were noticing. Most thought you were dating. Even congratulating you two...but he always answered before you could, thanking them happily.
Truthfully...he was training you to only want to be around him and it was working...
𑁍༄Aether:
"ITTO!" You screamed, your skin paling at the sight of the Oni you had been crushing on so much, taken down to the ground with dark crimson blood dripping from his head onto grass beneath him, his face badly bruised and beaten up. You couldn't even tell if he was breathing, your heart racing as you looked to the culprit... his face speckled with deep red flecks of blood and sickening smile on his lips..
"W-why...Aether, you're supposed to be a hero why would you...he didn't...h-he didn't deserve this!" You rushed to Ittos side, holding his large hand in yours and staring at the damage someone you thought you could trust caused.
"I did it for you. Now he can't take you from me..., now there's only one hero for you and it's me." Aether grabbed your wrist harshly, pulling you close to him while you tried desperately to shove him away, "No! Let go of me! Help! Someone help!!" You screamed frantically, searching for any other signs of people...but nobody was around? How was that possible! It was the city?!
Aether smiled at you sadistically, "Being a famous hero and knowing important people means I can say there's a need to evacuate...and everyone will just leave. No one...can hear you now..."
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ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚*⁠.⁠✧
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mondaymelon · 3 months
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₊⊹ 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋 ❤︎ | yandere!xiao, childe, scaramouche x gn!reader
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art by @/syaden8 on twt!!
⟢ cw: a failed escape attempt from them... yandere, dark themes, petnames, mutilation (xiao, scara), violence, drugging (scara) etc. please proceed with caution! thank you.
⟢ "your order's denial is causing me trial !"
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"Ah."
XIAO's lips moved, and it was that single noise that escaped.
For your room lay barren, empty, cold, the harsh winter breeze drafting through the shattered window, the bars covering it having been forcibly bent aside. "It..." For a moment, his body swayed, his own legs unable to support his weight. Then, his balance stabilized, his once by a fraction wider eyes having narrowed. "It seems my songbird has escaped."
Unacceptable. The word repeated in his head, like a mantra, a prayer, resounding within his ears, despite the silence, despite the cold that bit at his skin as he trudged through the snow, his spear at his side. A tiny, devilish voice that tugged on his ears and whispered out tales of his sin.
"Found you."
"N-No- please-" His gaze sharpened in annoyance. Desperate, your voice hoarse and cracking by the syllable, hurling yourself forward one more step, just one more, your bloody, bare feet scraped and bruised. This wasn't right, how come you seemed so distressed?
No, you of course sounded better as his songbird, in a pristine little cage, singing for him, and only him, happy tunes of joy and pleasure.
"...And as a songbird can live with its wings clipped, surely you'll understand if I...?"
The shackles locked tight around your wrists, and your useless, wretched legs, bones shattered by a single blow.
It's an unfortunate predicament, but it's the only way. ❤︎
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"Oh, so the chase is on?"
CHILDE shouldn't be laughing, but oh, he was.
It's a twisted sound, with the corners of his mouth distorted upwards in a haphazard smile, his eyes blown as a dark flush of red descended upon his cheeks. "So you've decided to play this little game of cat and mouse. Very well, if that's what you want, darling!"
You aren't making this difficult enough. His keen gaze spots all the traces you've left behind, broken branches, ruffled leaves, a torn piece of the clothing he had gifted you... it's all imbued with your essence, honey sweet on his lips.
Why would you even want to leave him?
It's that thought that makes him pause upon finding you, your trembling form sprawled across the bloodied snow as he stands over you, his own shadow casting you in darkness.
That's right, why would you? He's been nothing but loving. He's catered to your every need, has he not? He's bought this house for you, all the clothes you wear, the food you eat, the bed you sleep in... what right did you have to defy his affections, now that he had made them ever so clear?
If anything, it was insulting.
Oh, but did he truly feel insulted? After all, an offended person wouldn't have taken you like that, wouldn't have knocked you unconscious and wouldn't have carried the delicate you in his arms back to home.
Maybe a better description would be "longing." Longing for your praise, longing for your thanks, longing for the smiles you'd send his way... how come your eyes have faded, since then? It's strange, he's never seen you look so... determined before, not since today.
Ah, but what did it matter?
This puny escape attempt of yours... his tongue tasted bitter.
It wouldn't happen again. He'd make sure of it, so please, don't mind the chains, would you? ❤︎
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"They... dare?"
SCARAMOUCHE's expression contorts to one of rage, his brows sharply angled downwards and his violet eyes wide, quivering.
Haha... what a fool he was. He should've been more attentive, how had he not noticed your strange movements? The way you gave him a forced smile everytime he returned home, the way you'd greet him at the door with the dinner you made, and he had finally thought you had accepted his confession all those weeks ago, he finally thought you had gotten used to and started liking your life here, finally thought-
And then he thought nothing at all as his body swayed and fell to the ground. The audacity, to go and dig through his things, to go, find, and use the very drug he had used to bring you home.
By the time he awoke, the house was but a cold expanse, barren of your warmth, and he clenched his fists so tightly, his nails kissed red crescents into his skin that weeped with every flex of his fingers.
"To pull such a parlor trick against me like this... ah, doll. Don't think you'll get away with this leniently."
When he found you, not "if", he'll make sure to reprimand you properly. If breaking your spirit wasn't enough, then he'd have to break your mind too. He's already decided that he'll reshape the pure thing with his own, dirtied hands, into something that will burn only for him.
Surely, a couple missing limbs, here and there, wouldn't obstruct that light, would it now? ❤︎
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(a/n) as i said on my sideblog, something about writing for toxic mentally distressed emotionally broken and heavily reliant yandere characters who turn to violence to show their love is. just so. oddly... comforting?? was going to make this longer and then some shitty shit shit went down so. yay. tears.
if you enjoyed please consider following me or leaving a note on this post!! they are very appreciated, and i am very close to hitting a follower goal that i want to reach before the new years ! thank you.
໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader
-> teehee what if yall left a message on my christmas tree 😶😶😶
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