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#alhaitham soulmate
spice-chan · 10 months
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Your Form parted from my Sober Mind
Alhaitham x fem!reader
Summary: Alhaitham was not an idealist, but he would fight tooth and nail for his ideals. A soulmate, in particular, conflicts with them.
word count: 10k
tags/warnings: soulmate au. this is dark. dead dove do not eat. rejection. mentions of murder. implications/implied of suicide. there's death in this fic (I'm trying not to spoil things here). Many different narrative styles, but it's all mainly from Alhaitham's POV. kind of mutual pining? mention of marriage. dreams are a reoccurring motif. implied sex, not too explicit but the act is described in enough detail
authors note: I came back from the dead...and made Frankenstein's monster.
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“Then from his closing eyes thy form shall part,
And the last pang shall tear thee from his heart,” 
Alexander Pope, Elegy to The Memory of An Unfortunate Lady.
While everyone succumbs to a paradigm, that soulmarked people are irrevocably tied to one person, they are neglecting to consider alternatives. This consensus is harming the growth of Academia, and stunting further discoveries. Conducting further research on the phenomenon of soulmates is near impossible, because participation is scarce, as soulmarked people are very complacent, willing to take a backseat in their own future. I, as a soulmarked person, refuse to believe that some supreme deity is more aware of my own preferences and needs than I. In time, I shall prove that, and rewrite the way people view soulmates as we know it. 
-Alhaitham
-----------------
Alhaitham sighed as he trudged through the house of Daena, eyes searching for the book that he had been trying to borrow for the past few weeks. Not that he needed it, his grande personal collection spoke otherwise, but he had already gone through everything, his books more creased and spines wrinkled as evidence of his excessive care. He wished to borrow something new. Now if only the book didn’t seem to surge in popularity. 
His eyes landed on the book, long legs striding to it with purpose, it was to be his for the two weeks duration, until a hand reached for it at the same time. 
A spark ignited between your outstretched hands, however he didn’t feel repelled, rather the sensation seemed to send a comforting warmth to his heart that signalled safety to him. 
This moment would become engraved in his memory, when his teal eyes landed on yours for the first time, he’d never cared to describe people’s physical appearances beyond what would be convenient to him, but yours seemed to be an endless pit of water that he could drown in. 
Alhaitham staggered back a step, eyes panicked as his eyes searched for your wrist, heart sinking in dread as he saw the matching mark, now pulsing as it found its match. You appeared shocked as you took in this new found development, but by contrast, your lips curved up into a shy smile that he refused to admit was kind of beautiful. 
“Oh my god” 
You stepped forward, eyes curving down to look to his wrist and your smile blossomed even more as you confirmed it. Your happiness was however abruptly cut as he shoved his hand inside his pocket, moving past you to grab the book you two were previously gunning for. 
“Well, I’ll be taking this.” he said, leaving you standing there. He wondered what you looked like standing there alone, in the house of Daena, seeing the owner of the mark matching yours dismissing you. It was quite unheard of, soulmates were usually quite eager, and the first meetings were always recounted as something magical. He wasn’t eager to join the herd though. This is how it was meant to be, two souls parting at the bypass, because he was not obligated to pivot his direction to match yours. 
A thought struck him, his dread transforming to excitement. Soulmate studies had always steered clear of a certain direction, the road always seeming to carry an invisible hazardous warning that discouraged even the most willful scholars. Perhaps one is all it takes to finally discard the sign, ditched like an unseasonal winter coat on a summery day. One person who could prove that he is not willing to give in to the will of the Gods. 
He looked at the mark on his wrist, no longer pulsing, his face impassive, stony, not betraying his inner dilemma. Possibilities flashed before his eyes, calculations, uncertainties. He shoved his wrist back in his pocket, the eyesore taunting him with its vibrant hue, marked on his skin like an inevitable reality.
----------------
That night, Alhaitham had a vivid dream, one he could recall with disturbing detail. 
You and Alhaitham sat underneath the shade, Sumeru roses surrounded the two of you as he hugged you closer to his chest, his rose close enough to your hair that he could breath in your comforting scent while birds chirped, the flowers rustled, and your pages turned while the sun ordained you with it’s warmth. He wasn’t sure for a moment whether the source of the light was you or the sun. He didn’t care. He sighed, one out of comfort rather than fatigue or exacerbation, and you felt it tickling your neck. 
You turned to look at him, smile blinding even as his lips remained in a thin line. You said something, but all his senses centred around his sight, and it was laser focused on your kissable lips. You pouted slightly, before leaning forward and granting him his silent wish. 
As your lips touched his, his fake reality collapsed and he opened his eyes to the fuzzy shape of his room, disoriented at the delusion he had been sucked into. What prompted this dream? A curious question, one he didn’t have a silent clue how to begin answering. He breathed out, swiping his hair back, eyes glancing at the burgeoning morning sky. He wasted hours out of his rest dreaming about you. He’d rather not have dreamt at all. 
He tried to make sense of what had occurred. Meeting you had most likely been the trigger for this dream, but he would need to conduct further analysis.  
Most of Sumeru didn’t dream. Except for soulmarked people, they sometimes dreamt as they were deemed to be closer to deities. This idea was something Alhaitham didn’t buy into, but that’s only one more reason to carry on with this study that he dedicated himself to. Why would he dream of such a warm scene with you when he rejected you with his entire being?
---------------
Alhaitham’s theory, one he nurtured with the pride of a scholar, was that soulmarked people didn’t need their soulmates.
 It’s quite belittling, in his opinion, for one to base their future and value on whether or not they had a mark, and to abandon their individuality based on a mark. Alhaitham had never felt like half of a whole, he had never felt like his cup was half empty, and he frankly didn’t feel lacking. Your presence was thus simply unnecessary. He didn’t desire it, nor need it. 
You were however quite insistent on inserting yourself into his life. 
“As I previously informed you, your presence is quite unneeded. In fact it’s bothersome, can you sit somewhere else?” Alhaitham could not believe that even his favourite spot in his favourite cafe is now being invaded by you. You’re like an invasive species. 
“No, this spot gets the most sunlight. I can’t let you hog it, but I would be willing to offer you a drink as an apology for the huge inconvenience.”
Alhaitham gave you a brief glance, eyes looking to your face for a second, scrutinising you. Your content expression made him swiftly face his book once more. He tried making sense of your move, were you not offended? Did you have no pride? 
When Alhaitham made his stance to you clear, you were too disoriented to rebuttal. What he declared to you was quite unheard of, so he isn’t too surprised. You flashed him a saddened look, not quite heart broken though, and not too discouraged it seemed. You had been pestering him since. 
He surmised now that this was your way of trying to get to know him, accepting a drink means that he forgives you for intruding on his space, and he doesn’t. 
“I don’t want to give you another excuse to stay.” 
“I was never planning to leave Alhaitham. I already have every excuse to stay. Sunshine and a good view.” you said shamelessly, eyes raking his figure.  Alhaitham didn’t look up from his book this time but he could bet that you were looking at your nails nonchalantly. He even found the way you said his name strange, the way you pronounced it was interesting, and he was almost tempted to ask you to say it again just so he could pinpoint the intonations a little more. 
“Such as?” 
Alhaitham didn’t hear you speak for a few seconds, but he paused his reading and looked you in the eye, deadpan and serious. 
“I understand where you’re coming from. You believe being with me would be like, giving in, or something. That you accept that you are somewhat deficient and you need something to fill the gap in you.” you paused then, letting your words sink in with him, he couldn’t hide the way his poker face broke for a second. He certainly wasn’t expecting something insightful right this moment, and perhaps a tiny part of him felt touched that you weren’t undermining his thoughts as people had. 
“But that’s not how I see it, I don’t see you as a person who needs me to complete him. The bond is simply the notion that we complement each other. We are a pair, Alhaitham. You cannot escape it, but being a pair doesn’t mean that we are broken halves of a whole. I wouldn’t be able to be with someone so lacking and neither would you.” 
He let your explanation sink in, disappointment settling in the pit of his stomach. 
“You are overlooking very important variables. It takes so many different factors to shape a person, how could anyone be certain with so many uncontrolled variables that the person will then grow to be their most complementary partner? Maybe my upbringing shaped me in a way that is simply not suitable to you. Maybe there is someone out there that suits you more. But you are letting a mark decide your future, how predictable.” came his reply, scathing, upfront. You seemed to contemplate his words for a few seconds, before slowly nodding. 
“I see, but I will still believe in us. Just as deity’s watch over us and grant us visions, perhaps they are also aware of what our future holds and I will believe in their benevolence in pairing people-” he saw you fidget, saw your eyes avoid his penetrating gaze for two seconds before you resumed, once again resolute “-and just as you are unwavering in your beliefs, I will be unwavering in trying to prove to you that you and me belong together.” 
If Alhaitham was a more emotionally impressionable man, he might’ve described his feelings in this moment as butterflies as you proudly proclaimed your intentions. He isn’t however, and he decided it’s rather an annoyance having you here. 
He went back to his book, deciding this conversation to be over.
--------------
Entry 4, date xx 
It’s unfortunate yet understandable that research guidelines forbid me from using my own personal experience in my research. It won’t deter me from writing these entries, detailing my experience, so that someone in the future picking up this kind of research may have at least one detailed example. It’s hard to find people who do not conform to the standard of being with their soulmates upon discovering them, even if it means divorce, relocation etc. This makes academic studies that challenge the status quo quite difficult. In time, I do believe that people will move to treating soulmarks with more lukewarm expectations. 
My ‘soulmate’, a fellow researcher at the Akademiya, takes a stance quite oppositional to mine. Time did not deter her from pursuing me, nor her endless attempts at gaining my favour. It’s been a hassle, only made me wish I’d been born markless even more. 
Some of her attempts included, but were not limited to
Buying me things. Such as a coffee (one of my more favoured drinks) when I’d fall asleep in the library, and resisting the temptation of consuming the beverage in my disoriented state was quite difficult, and wasteful. Consuming it does not therefore warrant any form of affection. Although it is peculiar that she always managed to find me at my most vulnerable.
Dispelling rumours about me. Quite useless, as I never cared what people said or thought of me, she was better off focusing on her pressing research. This asserts that soulmates are not more suited to each other than any average pair on the street, as assuming we have this telepathic connection would mean that people finding me unapproachable is rather helpful for me. Needless to say this method of hers was the least useful. 
Always talking to me. Though her tactics changed over the years. She no longer makes small talk, or attempts to change my mind. She now attempts to use my hobbies to make my brain associate her with my interests. She brings up books that I’d borrowed, sparks a discussion on them that would leave me no choice but to respond to her avid attempts at dialogue. She impressively did seem to digest the contents of the books quite well, and my enthusiasm when conversing about say, “How Language is a Tool of Policing”, does not equate to my favour. 
Buying me books.
This list seems to be getting needlessly long, and upon further thought it’s rather useless, so I will deign to stop.
-----------------
A group of scholars trekked along the Avidiya forest, mostly Amurta students, so it’s no wonder you are there. Alhaitham is one of the few odd ones out, but considering his penchant for knowledge and innate curiosity, it's no wonder he’s there. Reading about different biological life forms in the rainforest is useful enough, but seeing with his own two eyes is a must. A few samples to test certain herbal effects would also be quite beneficial. 
He looked around, taking in his surroundings. Green eyes took in the scenery, beautiful mosses and grandiose trees, aged and chipped and hanging a shadow over them, so massive that the humans beneath it looked to be of no special significance. 
His eyes inadvertently landed on you. You were bundled closely to another Amurta student, one with fennec fox features. His shoulders were touching yours as his eyes drank up the papers in your hands with curiosity, and you didn’t seem to mind as you smiled and pointed at certain parts, talking animatedly. 
Alhaitham curled up a grey eyebrow at the way the guy’s tail seemed one step away from wagging, what an inconvenient appendage to have. 
He showed his notes to you, pointing at different places in the forest and pointing back to his notes, talking excitedly. You nodded, adding an input here and there, this discussion of yours seems very interesting. Perhaps he should move closer to hear what you and the star of Amurta seem to be discussing with so much excitement.
Alhaitham, who was previously intentionally lagging behind the group, with several steps was within a hearing distance between you and Tighnari. However, he was irked to know that he could hear nothing because you two, although animated, were speaking in hushed tones as if disclosing a secret in broad daylight. 
With carefully measured steps, he weaved himself even closer, but not close enough to arouse suspicion. From this angle, he could see the way the so called star of Amurta’s long conspicuous ears pricked in your direction, unwilling to miss a single word out of your mouth. 
“You’re so lucky Tighnari, Amurta is very lucky to have someone with your constitution, but trying out different mushrooms seems quite fun” you said, starry eyed at the so called Tighnari, all over some mushrooms? Alhaitham knows a lot about rainforest mushrooms, as any scholar should. Maybe the standards for Amurta Darshan are just lower these days. 
“Well you’re in luck, I found a way to minimise the effects of the mushrooms by taking a small sample and boiling it, so if you’re quite interested you can come around to my place so we can test different mushrooms together.” Tighnari said, tone bordering on gloating as he seemed quite prideful in his discovery. 
To Alhaitham’s chagrin, you nodded with child-like excitement, have you taken leave of your senses? This endeavour seems so dangerous and yet you’ve agreed to it without a second thought to your safety, or perhaps there’s another reason for your excitement. 
Alhaitham can imagine it perfectly. You’d look at Tighnari with glassy eyes, flushed appearance, softly panting as you declare that the mushrooms seem especially potent-
No. 
Time spent daydreaming is time wasted, and this same logic applies to thoughts of you. What you get up to is none of his concern, and who you get up to it with as well. He’s not with you in sickness or health, so he cares not if you possess either. 
Alhaitham is despondent at the fact that one cannot tread the rainforest while reading a book. It’s naturally a recipe for disaster, as he might trip and fall and damage his book in an act of foolishness. It’s regrettable however, as your own foolishness has rendered him unable to fully take in his surroundings. 
The group is taken to the camp as the sun bids adieu and the moon illuminates the rainforest in a faint light, making the shadows appear much more ominous as they towered and arched over the students. 
Alhaitham pulled out his book, fully intending to consume his meal with the company of the pages in his hands, but you had other ideas, seeming to finally remember your mission of pestering him whenever you are in his presence. 
“So, how did you find today’s trip?” always starting out with meaningless small talk, perhaps you are hoping he will one day humour you. 
“It’s been great till now.” clipped and curt, as usual. 
“Did you find it informative? It’s been great seeing so many different rainforest life forms. Maybe I should work for a few months here after finishing my thesis, if only to get more acquainted with the life forms. But I won’t do that before I sort things out.” you kept your words vague, but Alhaitham could sense the meaning hidden beneath them. You won’t move until you make this soulmate dream of yours a reality. He’s been rejecting you, and here you are making life plans around him, trying carefully to make him fit in with your plans. Planning the course of your life around him.
Choosing to conceal the reality of his day, he replies with an affirmative hum. You got the memo, choosing to open your packed food and eat, most likely busy with your own thoughts, while Alhaitham entertains his own. 
------------
Entry 90, date xx. 
This might prove to be a complete coincidence, and I’m confused as to why it’s occurring myself, despite my investigations and various attempts at isolating and looking at different variables. 
In the years I have known who my soulmate is, I have been dreaming. Eerily, my dreams usually concern her in one way or the other, so it must be something related to our bond. In my last dream, I can vaguely remember a warm feeling in my belly, as ambiguous as that sounds. I laid my head on her lap, reading, while she soothingly caressed my hair. Disappointingly, I do not recall the contents of the book, only the warm caress of her fingers that lulled me into a feeling of comfort. 
The feelings of my dreams however, I am certain, do not carry on into my daylight hours. 
Maybe I must admit I am somewhat impressed by her tenacity and persistence, perhaps that feeling is causing my subconscious to confuse the nature of our relationship?
-----------------
Alhaitham is tired of whatever farce you are trying to play. 
You are like a migraine to him, your arrival always a nuisance, a pain, and wholly unwelcome. You do not respect his choices, opinions. Your existence frustrates him, and he cares not that you always take great care not to cause him trouble. Your actions, while deceptively helpful, greatly annoy the scribe. 
This year, his attempts at dissuading you have gotten rather harsh. This is because he can no longer afford you indifference. This can be traced back to when you left a cake on his desk. Congratulating him on his new role as scribe. The flavour was not overly sweet, it’s something he would usually enjoy consuming, but the feelings borne within his chest at the sentimental message written on the cake caused him to pause. The moths swarming his belly did not make sense, his response did not make sense. The cogs that always efficiently turned in his head seemed to clog at the thought of you. 
An uncharacteristic rage blinded him that day, he did not feel this way in his life before, and when he sat reflecting on his now emptier desk after harshly dumping the cake in the bin facing his office, he thought that the new found nuisance in his life is more troublesome than he previously predicted. 
One day, a golden opportunity seemed to land on his lap. A one in a million lucky chance. Though Alhaitham thinks a lucky chance is only one if you can reap the benefits it brings you. 
It was a pleasant night, the air, while warm, was comfortable as cooler wind blew inside the tavern and ruffled his hair slightly. He was drinking alone, a choice he made as the comfort of his own thoughts was something he needed. He’d be able to ruminate in peace, had the cause of his irritation not found him once again. 
“Oh my, hi Alhaitham. We keep running into each other, it’s almost like fate huh” you greeted, plopping yourself beside him, calling to the bartender to pass you a drink too, signalling the start of Alhaitham’s misfortune. So nonchalantly confident, your head always held up high around him, as if his attitude towards you is a mere playing hard to get. 
He opened his lips, a scathing reply at the tip of them, until another irritation called out his name jarringly. 
He turned his head, as several others did before minding their own business after briefly casting them curious looks. 
“Soo this is where you spend your time! You could have invited me, you know.” some women from the Akademiya sat to his left, batting her lashes at him in what he assumes is her way of being coy and attractive. 
He was halfway into finishing his drink. It’s a shame he’ll have to retire early as his night no longer holds the promise of peace. However, upon seeing you casting them a curious look, silent for once in your life, he got a much more brilliant idea. 
It takes a genius to turn a stroke of misfortune into a lucky chance. 
Although having never indulged in this sort of useless and amateurish behaviour, likening it to some sort of primitive mating call, Alhaitham is adaptable and a great actor when it comes to securing his own peace. 
“Sorry honey, I���ve been somewhat preoccupied. Surely I can make it up to you” he feigned a cordial look, eyes raking through her figure. She’s not really his type. Her lap didn’t seem comfortable to lay his head on, and even the shape of her fingernails seemed to turn him off. Coincidently, some of your physical features are rather favourable to him, especially the shade of your eyes. Her voice also sounds grating, and he wished she'd never say his name again. But he put up with it, and even went as far is to brush his hand on her upper thigh, his implications clear.
His reply took you and her by surprise, shocked faces at the tone no one heard from the blunt scribe before, but her shock quickly morphed to glee. 
“Of course! I’m not one to hold grudges” she scooted closer to him, and he quickly wondered if this was worth it, or a detour into wasting even more of his time, especially as her hands reached out and touched his shoulder, rendering him wordless with the awkwardness of having to tolerate her invasive touches.
He glanced at you, and your frozen made you look stuck in your spot, in disbelief, surely it’s not preposterous that he might pursue someone else? His lips willfully thinned though, when he saw how your previously frozen eyes melted into a volcano, rage swimmed within them, as your brows scrunched disapprovingly. He’d never seen you look like this, even when he threw all your attempts back in your face all those years. He’d never seen you look like you wished the ground would open and swallow him, and his gut twisted uncomfortably at the thought. 
Perhaps this was all it really took to have you leave him be. He wondered why he never took this approach before. 
He cast furtive glances at the other women speaking, unwilling to break this facade now, but he found that the air after you left seemed much more cold. 
“You can stop bothering me now. Whatever you think could happen between us isn’t going to, but it was amusing seeing you gullible you could be.” he spoke while nursing another drink, his eyes not even meeting hers, though she might find this to be in her benefit. Although his clipped words were missing their usual edge, it still had the desired effect. 
“You jerk, do you think you’re too good for me? I was willing to tolerate your dry personality because you had a pretty face, but your head is bigger than I thought. Bring yourself down to earth, at this rate you’re going to die alone and miserable as you always have been.” 
People’s words never bothered him, and even now they do not. He chooses to live his life the way he chooses, and people’s opinions will never change his pursuit of personal peace. However, he found it interesting that one rejection from him caused her to spout so much venom at him, when years of him doing that to you didn’t have this effect. Is it that you’re patient? Level headed? Kind? Well, more like hopelessly foolish.
---------------
Entry 1023, date xx
For the past month, I haven’t seen much of her. It seems that before, she went out of her way to run into me. Ever since the night at the tavern, her pursuit seemed to end completely. This is what I wanted for years, isn’t it? I have finally achieved the desired results. 
I am still as whole as the day I was born, I don’t feel lacking. I am fine.
-----------
Alhaitham finished up writing the latest entry, closing the journal and putting it inside his drawer. As he stretched, he caught sight of his face. 
His facial hair seems to be growing out, painting his face in a five o’clock shadow. He stroked the coarseness, wondering why he’d missed his usual schedule of trimming. 
He shook the creeping thoughts away, approaching his bed to finally get a much needed rest. He needs to clear the pesky thoughts away, so that he may finally enjoy the books he’s been meaning to read. You’d probably have something insightful to say about them, you usually seemed to. 
Curses, why must his own brain betray him? 
Sleep, when it finally came, was not peaceful. 
He was frantically opening every door in his house, searching for something. Opening doors, searching, repeating.
The violent cycle went on, his heart falling every time his mysterious search reaped nothing. 
He shook awake, panting so loudly that he wondered briefly whether he performed a strenuous exercise in his sleep, if the erratic thumping of his heart was any clue. It banged painfully against his ribs. His hair clung to his forehead, and his face felt suspiciously wet. He needs to calm down, so that he may analyse the cause of his restless sleep and eliminate it. But his brain stubbornly shut down, and Alhaitham's throat traitorously clogged up. 
Deep breath. A  response like this might not be any cause for alarm. Deep breath. Emotional hysterics will solve nothing. Deep breath.
Why do the walls feel like they are closing in on him?
-------------------
It’s been 4 months and 6 days since Alhaitham saw you. Or heard from you. 
This period is incredibly unusual, you never went so long without speaking to him. Is the thought of him pursuing another woman truly all it took to throw you off? Perhaps he gave your persistence undeserving credit. He wishes he could hear your thoughts, stumble into a journal of yours. If only to see whether his hypothesis proved right, that once you realised this you too came to your senses and realised you could lead a happy life without him. 
His inability to know filled him with bitterness, yet why is he feeling such when he prided himself on only speculating things of importance? His frustration made him gnaw on his lips. 
“I do think they look good together, she should take her chance with him” 
Dimwits gossiping in the library might be the last straw, why is it that people can’t save their idle chatter for a more appropriate place?
“Yeah, but doesn’t (y/n) have a soulmark? This could end disastrously.”
What?
“Yeah but, it’s quite rare for soulmates to find each other nowadays, she shouldn’t waste her chance because of something that might never be.” 
Who? And when did this happen?
“Yeah, I guess so.” 
Alhaitham’s brain, if possible, might melt. An overload of thoughts, information, noises, all overstimulating him. But if he thought hard enough, it’s quite clear that this is another tactic of yours. You’ve gotten quite clever. It cannot be a mere coincidence that this gossip found its way to his ears, you must be trying to ignite some irrational feeling within him, jealousy. 
Too bad he’ll never give you the satisfaction of seeing him this way. 
He closed his book, a mere decoration at this point, and walked out of the library, thinking a walk would help clear his head. 
“Yeah, he seems quite taken by her, I think he is seriously courting her.”
No matter what hallway he’s in, what direction he pivots to, the building of the Akademiya itself seems to be buzzing with talks of you and some guy. You’ve put a lot of effort into this farce of yours, did you take in the consequences? When this blows over, your dignity as a scholar would surely never recover. You’d be known as a gossipmonger. 
Days have passed however, and the talk showed no sign of stopping. You and a wealthy sponsor of the Akademiya, who hails from Fontaine. He’d fallen in love with you, is courting you, and everything trivial inbetween. When did you even have time to catch the eye of someone so apparently important? It’s implausible, and incredibly petty. 
Why are you nowhere to be found now? 
--------------
Statistically, Alhaitham knows that it’s impossible not to have run into you by now. Unless you have been going out of your way to avoid him. He even changed his usual seating spot in the library, thinking that maybe he’d find you away from his corner. He’s been roaming in the city the past month more than he had in a year. 
The worst thing is that he didn’t understand why he was going so far to find you. It defied logic itself, his persistence. It’s none of his business what you do, so he should give up while he’s at it. Come back to his senses, and live out his peace. 
You seemed to haunt him though, and as his tired teal eyes roamed the cafe on his way once more, fate seemed to drop him a little trinket. 
He squinted his eyes, seeing the familiarly patterned, maroon scarf that you always wore when it got a bit chilly. He rushed inside the cafe, eyes zeroed on it. Before looking outside once more in search of your figure. He’d probably just missed you. 
The rational choice would be to hand over the scarf to the workers, you’d probably come in search of it, but before rationale could halt him, he took the scarf and left, but not before catching a whiff of your familiar scent. 
This would give him a reasonable excuse to talk to you, you can’t refuse an act of goodwill from him right? He thought back, trying to find a single moment in which he’d done you a favour and not the reverse. 
His stomach sank as he realised that he’d in fact never done a single act of goodwill towards you, he’d spared you nothing but harsh words of rejection and belittlement. 
Perhaps this is why he’s been searching for you, to try and ease this feeling of guilt that hasn’t left him since you completely erased your existence out of his life. You’d made home in every corner of his life, trying to make it a little more bearable. You were a sacrifice to his philosophy, it couldn’t be any other way, because Alhaitham is equally stubborn, he’d never give in to the will of someone else who’s ordained how he must live his life. 
But for now, he’ll take this scarf home, knowing deep down that he doesn’t intend to return it. 
-------------
Alhaitham sat on the couch near his bed, watching perplexed as you made out with a clone of him. Your fingers tangled in his grey strands, beautiful, naked body straddling him, as if you were trying to become one with him, merge your being with his so that he may never try and discard you. Your lips moulded with his own, and he’d returned the favour with equal fervour. 
Only, his grey hair began darkening from the roots down, becoming a pitch black colour. You pulled away, and he watched horrified as his clone’s face melted like clay, only to be reconstructed as the face of a stranger. You however appeared indifferent, eyes soulless and lacking the tenacity you seemed to possess earlier. 
He stood up to try and take you away, but an invisible force pulled him back, leaving him only to thrash while a stranger held you, and you let him. 
You let the stranger cradle your body, indifference melting into a bittersweet smile as your lips found his. 
Alhaitham’s eyes stung, and he tried closing them to shield himself from the sight as you let a stranger make love to you, but he couldn’t. His eyes were made to be peeled wide upon as he watched and heard you, and his wrist burned, heart ached. But through it all, he’d only wished that you’d stop and look at him again. 
But you didn’t, your eyes didn’t leave the stranger's body, not until they rolled back in ecstasy while you used his body for your pleasure. The strangers hands caressed you, and strummed your pleasure to a tune that only produced the most melodious sounds out of you. 
Tears started falling down his cheeks. But he still couldn’t close his eyes. 
Alhaitham opened his eyes, feeling like a dam had broken on his pillow as the moistness in his eyes blurred his vision. 
He rubbed his tears away, but they wouldn’t stop, not for as long as he remembered his nightmare. You, so close, making love to someone else while he was forced to watch and hear. 
Why did he have to be tormented even in dreams? 
His heart hammered away so loudly that it felt like drums to his ears, his lungs refused to operate as an unbearable feeling of pain overwhelmed him. He pulled his knees to his chest as he willed his shivering to stop, the moon staring mercilessly at him as he rocked back and forth. 
He suddenly remembered a find of his, and with a blurry vision he fished out your scarf, holding it up to his nose to breathe in the scent he’d been denied. He rubbed away his tears, not wanting to stain your scarf with it, and like something beyond reason his tears had stopped. 
His sleep was dreamless after that. 
-------------
Entry 1800, date xx 
Dreams have been tormenting my nights, and reality torments my day. Why does it feel like I’m being continuously punished? Were my ideas so cardinally sinful that the deity’s above have taken to cause me misery? 
I have once again devolved to foolish thoughts. It’s my thoughts that torment me, not any higher power. 
If she’s anything to go by, then I guess my hypothesis has been proven correct. She no longer seeks me out, hasn’t done so in 8 months. When I catch a glimpse of her, it’s so brief it’s almost like a phantom. I do hear of her though, that she’s happy with another man. That they might move back to Fontaine together at this rate, that this might not be fling. She’d succeeded in something no one has succeeded at before her. She left her soulmate behind and pursued her own path. I was never needed.
The idea that she might move to Fontaine is rather far fetched though, as she is still a researcher, and this is but only one relationship. Moving to a completely new homeland to pursue such a fresh relationship is completely spontaneous and irresponsible. Especially considering she would need to abandon many of her projects. 
They will most likely break up, they might not, only time will tell. But for the time being, she seems to have moved on.
-----------
Alhaitham’s haggard figure trekked through the Sumeru, eyes a dull green that looked sombre as he glanced through the stalls. Malnutrition is the most likely cause of the way he’s had no energy lately, even his bones seemed to ache in protest. 
With a fresh bag of groceries in hand, Alhaitham walked back home, eyes downcast and somewhat soulless. He needs to cook today, needs to eat something and get on with his life. He needs to. 
With his downcast eyes and general disinterest, he almost missed the crowd of awed bystanders forming a ring around two people. With one furtive glance, he deemed it not worth his time, until he caught sight of the second star of the show. 
It’s you. Standing there. It’s finally you. Light seemed to come back to his eyes, if only for a brief second before horror overtook them. 
It’s you, standing there, with a man kneeling on the floor proposing to you. A crowd of people all around you two, smiling, anticipating, gasping. 
It’s you, nodding your head as another man puts a ring on your finger, his pitch dark hair and features nothing like Alhaitham, with one look Alhaitham can surmise that he’s everything Alhaitham could never be. His smiling face charms everyone in sight, he’s like a star that everyone wants to be near to bask in his aura. 
Alhaitham doesn’t have the vocabulary to describe such a raw feeling with medical terms, but if he can be sentimental, he might be able to say that his soul hurts.
------------
Dear (y/n), 
The Akademiya is currently lacking in capable personnel, and as the scribe I had been entrusted with alleviating this issue using records of capable individuals. You had many great works under your belt, and I understand that our personal matters might’ve driven you away to Fontaine, but I find it rather immature that you’d go so far and abandon your responsibilities to pursue a relationship. 
Please consider coming back, as the Akademiya is willing to offer you a new position that you might find to be to your liking, the job benefits are numerous such as a large residence in Sumeru and a very high salary with many days of paid leave. Please contact me for more information. 
Alhaitham 
-----------------
 Dear (y/n), 
I have received your letter of rejection. 
Perhaps the salary wasn’t to your liking? The Akademiya is willing to double it, all your research projects will be fully funded and approved and you may pick up where you left off without any hassle. Any additional requirements could be negotiated, it would surely not be ideal to disregard such a promising career and job title in the Darshan you have dedicated years to. 
I apologise for any harsh words I have previously said to you, sometimes, well, most times my pride gets the best of me and I end up hurting people with my words. I would like to say that I never meant to hurt you, but at the time I did and I do feel quite regretful. Our personal matters should never be a reason for you to reject such a great offer. I understand that you are in a committed relationship, but you shouldn’t be discouraged to pursue other paths so early on in your life. 
Alhaitham
--------------
Dear (y/n), 
I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I would apologise for every second I disregarded you if it means you might come back. I would give you anything. I’m sorry I didn’t before, and that it took me so long. 
I’m pathetic, foolish, unworthy, and every derogatory term on this earth. But I also love you. I’m sorry it took having nothing of you in my life but a scarf you’d forgotten to realise that I love you.
When I sit in the corner of the library, I always save a seat next to me, hoping by some miracle you’d show up again. That you’d sit there again, laughing, smiling at me like you’d sucked all the warmth out of the sun, and this time I’d smile at you back until my cheeks hurt because you have come to mean happiness to me. 
I’ve loved you for every single year I’d known you, and for every single season, there was no one ever but you. Please believe me, I’d never pursued any relationships, it was only ever you that occupied my heart and thoughts. That woman you saw at the tavern wasn’t someone I was seeing, and I rejected her after, even if this meagre show of loyalty is too little too late. I was a fool that day, I was angry at my feelings, at the way my heart and brain were in complete incoordination that I took her advances to try and hurt you. I didn’t even touch her, she meant nothing to me, I wish I didn’t show up to the tavern that day so then maybe you’d still be in my life. 
Nothing fills the vacuum you left behind, my heart. I cried so much the day you left that it felt like I’d never stop crying. 
I tried to deny something so wonderful, and when my wish was granted I declared that I want you back. You must think I’m the most selfish man you’ve ever known. I might be. I’m sorry I rejected you and denied my feelings for so long, but please, will you come back and return the colour to my life? I will never take you for granted again. 
Please come back, I’m begging you. 
Alhaitham
-------------
Alhaitham walked around the labyrinth, nothing but the moonlight guiding him on his quest to find you. He’s frantic, rushing around from one dead end to another. 
And then he finds you, laying there, in the centre, bushes and greenery enveloping you, and you seemed happy to see him, because your cheeks quirked up and eyes crinkled in a smile that he’d been deprived of for long enough to realise it’s as essential as oxygen to him. 
He ran to you, breaking you free of your binds, enveloping you in his arms before kissing your lips in reverence as if he worships you. He kisses you, not stopping until he realises that you aren’t responding, and that you’ve gone cold in his arms.
-----------------
Alhaitham stared at the piling documents in front of him, eyes bloodshot and blurry. He’s glad that no one usually approaches him, for he must look like he squabble with the grim reaper last night. 
He sighed, hand going to his chest, rubbing it in a vain attempt to soothe the ache there. You didn’t reply to any of his letters. Why would you? He’s truly a piece of work to attempt to contact you after all he’s done to you over the years. 
He doesn’t know how long he can go on like this, but he knows for certain that he’s become the villain of his own story. His hubris and pride have pulled him down to a hell that he lives in everyday. He mocked soul mates all his life for travelling for miles to be together, for quitting jobs, getting divorced, all for a fated person. Alhaitham cannot look down on them any more, because if you don’t respond to him soon he will run to Fontaine and grovel until you spare him a single glance, and then he will finally feel like he’s found his Oasis after being stuck in a never ending desert. 
It feels like a knife stabbing his chest whenever he thinks of you in another land, married to another man, loving him and being loved by him in a way Alhaitham will never experience. But he brought this on himself, how can he blame you? He drove you into someone else’s arms. 
He touched his forehead, feeling somewhat feverish. He’s felt drained the past few weeks, but especially so after the dream he’d last had. His entire body is aching, and his breaths feel shallow, but if he plans to try to go to Fontaine he’d better start working now. 
Alhaitham opens the documents on his desk, diligently working on one after the other until his eyes land on the freshest arrivals. 
Alhaitham doesn’t fully remember what happened after that, but he remembers reading the words that shattered his entire world before his vision faded to black. 
“The student and faculty body is urgently requesting the papers to be processed to allow the body of (y/n) to be transferred to Sumeru to be buried in her homeland after her tragic murder. please…”
--------------
Alhaitham opened his eyes to an unfamiliar sight, the air felt sanitised and the sheets scratchy, alarming him to abruptly sit up, causing his head to feel light and vision to get hazy again. 
A nurse rushed over to him, calming him down and informing him of his condition. 
He was fatigued and had a fever, overwork and a mental shock took a toll on him and he passed out. That won’t do, he must get back to work so he can go after (y/n). 
(y/n)... 
His brain was refusing to process what he read, it must be a sick joke. A fucked up prank. You’re in Fontaine, happy and married, or perhaps still engaged. He hopes you’re still only engaged. 
He turns to the nurse who still held a worried look on her face, brown eyes crinkled in worry over a stranger. You’d give him this look sometimes too. 
“I’m alright. I’m going home to rest now.” he didn’t. 
He went back to the Akademiya, back to his office, to check that this was not reality, only one of the many nightmares that had been haunting him. He wasn’t the most devout man in his life, but for the first time in his life he made a prayer. Please let him have another chance, please don’t make him live this, don’t take her away from me this way.
Fate was cruel. 
Alhaitham faced the reality living out before him. He looked down, his wrist trembling, he’s been so afraid to look for the longest time, knowing he undeserving he was of it, but now he needs to, he needs to confirm. 
He turned his wrist, the mark on it has lost all colour, it’s now darker than any night Alhaitham had lived.
------------------
You left this world, he chants in his head, rocking back and forth. 
His room looked like a testament of destruction, everything was smashed, papers ripped, books destroyed, everything he faced didn’t survive to tell the tale. 
You left him alone in this world. 
The house and Sumeru itself never felt too big for one person, but now he feels like he’s drowning amidst the populace, his world never felt duller and more lonely, he faintly remembers a familiar pricking of loneliness when his grandmother passed. The mere prick had transformed into a tidal wave that’s drowning him under, and Alhaitham can’t breath amidst the saltwater. 
Did you even read his letters? Did you at least die knowing he loves you? 
He holds his pounding head in his hands, crushed at the thought of you dying with the thought that he doesn’t care about you. Did you forgive him as you took your last breath? Or did you despise him tenfold? 
You were killed, how could anyone think of hurting you? Since when was the world so cruel? 
It’s all Alhaitham’s fault, if he hadn’t pushed you towards that man, you would never have left with him, if only he thought for a second, if only his hubris didn’t cloud his logic. 
His heart had died that day, but he couldn’t find it in him to stand up and attend the funeral.
-----------------
“This is the book that brought us together my love, I still remember. If I recall far enough I can even describe the feeling of your fingers brushing against mine.” Alhaitham mutters, making himself comfortable beside you, this is the closest he will get to reading in your embrace, so he might as well make himself comfortable against the harsh slab of rock that has become your home. 
“I should have let you have it, or perhaps suggested we read it together? I should have invited you to pupsa cafe that day and introduced you as my soulmate to the owner. I can’t undo that, no longer am I able to agonise about the past, so now this is my attempt of redoing it. I hope you can forgive me.” he said, tracing the soil as tears lined his lashes, he brought you some flowers too, this is his first time bringing you flowers. 
“I’ll read the book out to you, alright?” and so Alhaitham flicks the book open. 
He reads out until his throat hurts, and the position of the sun changes, until the wind becomes more biting and harsh, and the song of nature becomes louder. He’s got the protection of your scarf, but it pains him even more that your scent has nearly fully faded away. 
He flicks the book closed, asking you about it, but of course you can never respond, nor can you even hear him when you're resting in silence six feet under. 
Humans are truly curious creatures, Alhaitham can admit he’s no exception. Their actions can never be truly calculated, uncontrolled variables cloud their existence. Most people accept the benefits that come with having a chosen one ordained by the stars, they weep in joy as a fated lover sweeps them under. 
Some like Alhaitham do not. They justify the rationale of a lonely existence, disregard a fate carved for them by an unknown force, they refuse to become one with the herd. However, one doesn’t discover true loneliness until they discover what it’s like to bask in the joys of companionship. Such simple acts like drinking coffee together while you both read, the comfort of knowing that you’re always nearby, ready to intervene when you think life is becoming too troublesome for him, the celebratory gifts, the laughs and smiles, they are all so incredibly mundane. But love is not so otherworldly, because if so, then the masses would never get to experience it. Your simple acts of love towards him are things he shall never experience again. The truth, something he always pursued with endless disregard for people’s feelings, is now too bitter for him to accept. 
Did Alhaitham’s world always look so grey? Why is loss so hard to comprehend? It might have something to do with the fact that you were never his to lose. 
He’s like a child, chasing after a kite that he can never have within his grasp again, nature’s will is too strong. 
The people at the Akademiya have moved on, tales and gossip surrounding your death dimmed from gasp-inducing tales to idle chatter, and now time has moved on and you were simply a topic out of season. It makes him mad, the way your friends can so easily laugh without looking at the vacant spot in their groups, how could the world so easily move on when Alhaitham is still left behind, clinging on to an outdated calendar?
His anger has long disappeared though, it left nothing but the bitter sting of regret, regret for what wasn’t and for what now couldn’t be. It took him too long to realise that the bentos dumped in trashes could have been dinners he came home to, made not expertly but with love. That seeing you barefoot in his kitchen after he left his work on the dot was a daydream worth chasing after. He grips the flask in his hand, throat feeling parched for release, mind desperate to finally leave this nightmare behind and rest.
“They say soulmates are binded in every life, their souls marking their bodies in an attempt to find their missing half. Do you think in the next life, we can be together? It’s too cruel to think that this is the end, so I entertain myself with such musings sometimes to comfort myself.”
Too preoccupied and swarmed with thoughts, Alhaitham failed to notice the shadow approaching him until its figure stood in front of him. He lifts his head, taking in the elderly lady who’s gentle countenance and wise wrinkled eyes reminded him so much of his grandmother that he nearly asked for an embrace. 
“Are you alright young man, you’ve been in this cold for a while haven’t you? I’m sure your loved one would want you to be happy and warm.'' Her soothing tone nearly made Alhaitham break into sobs, confessing that he’s never known warmth since you took all of it away when you became cold. He became cold too, after all he is your other half. 
He smiled, a smile so sincere that it looked off on his usually sombre face, and a hint of warmth seemed to return to him. He fingered the flask in his hand, his eyes hinting the grief bottled up inside of him. 
“Don’t worry, I will be, it shouldn’t take too long.”
----------------
“It’s been several years since the tragedy of the couple in mention, and while a difficult decision, we have decided a few months ago to look at their case to study the phenomenon of soulmates and their correlation to dreaming.” The aged lecturer spoke, voice low and hinting at the deep seriousness of the matter. The hall is silent, many having memories of the two, and while the murder of (y/n) shook many to their core, the unseen bond that you had to the Akademiya’s scribe made the tale truly a tragedy. Others, the more clueless ones who didn’t quite know the two, cast curious glances around. With time, there will be no need to pay homage to the tragedy of the matter, your bond will not be commemorated for how loving or sad it was, but it will be documented for Academic research. In a way, you and Alhaitham will live on and be remembered as a pair, though not the way either of you intended. 
“The various notes left behind by the two, Alhaitham’s in particular, took especially long to go through, and some transcriptions had to be salvaged. This study proved useful to the hypothesis that soulmates are more prone to dreaming because of the connection that they share. Many researchers have gone further to assert that it might be that the link between them links their subconscious and the hyper activity across this link stimulates shared dreams. The feelings of the pair experienced during daylight muddled together during their sleep-” the lecturer pauses to take a deep breath, flicking through the lecture notes “-and produced dreams that were shared by the two, and seemed to be directly influenced by both their feelings.” he let that information sink in before resuming. 
“For example, as seen in page 34, Alhaitham  was avid in documenting anything related to his soulmate, yet it seemed he was completely unaware, as most people wouldn’t be, that the day he dreamt of her having intercourse with someone else was the same day that she in fact did. We can thus somewhat deduce that this dream was influenced by her feelings regarding the-” he paused momentarily, thinking of an appropriate phrasing “-her feelings regarding the act.” 
“The dreams they had, interestingly, sometimes reflected their feelings towards each other more honestly than their daylight hours and dialogue. Their bond can never be broken by rejection, it seemed. They still found a way of subconsciously communicating. Their case has become a hot topic of research, especially in regards to soulmates and dreams respectively.” 
The lecturer felt somewhat forlorn, knowing that endless lecture notes on the two came at the expense of something they will never get to experience. 
300 notes · View notes
vivalabunbun · 2 months
Text
As We Are, We Will Be
Summary: A nonsensical question is proposed in one singular moment between a stoic and stoic face in one singular universe.
Word Count: 9k (It was supposed to be short and sweet-)
Tags: Alhaitham X Fem! Reader, Smut, NSFW, Fluff, a lot of fluff, slight angst, soulmate au, slow fic, established relationship, married life, Soft! Alhaitham, attempts at comedy, mentions of aging, slightly jealous! Alhaitham, mutual pinning, soft sex, vanilla, safe sex (wrap it up), riding (cowgirl), fingering, slow sex, making love, really bad expatiations of scientific theories and math, just two nerds in love.
Authors Note: Happy belated birthday and Valentine's Day to my favorite dendro nerd. A continuation of this piece, one I hold dear. A thought experiment based on nothing more than the feverish delirium of love.
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It was just for a moment. 
A mere pasting instance in the contentious momentum of time when a glimmer caught your eyes in the muddled chatter of a crowd, a silver shimmer like starlight.
Interrupting your contemplation as your eyes impulsively search for the source.
A late morning on a Saturday, the markets and stalls were lively with families replenishing a week's worth of groceries. Bodies veering and easing through the bustle of the busty streets.
The wide breadth of life that moved all around you. Like a collection of small dots within the vastness of a universe. 
But amid the vast collection of blurry faces were the flicker of silvery locks refracting the late morning light. Originating from a pair, an elderly lady and an elderly man, their aged hands intertwined. 
Time had made her marks upon them, and gravity had pulled down on their wrinkled faces. Yet, the ends of their lips were pointed toward the sky. The corners of their eyes wrinkled as their gazes held each other's faces. 
From their view, do they not see the starlight hue of their hair? Instead, do they still see the vibrancy and youth of their locks which age had stolen from them? 
The image of each other reflected in their irises, was it from a time before the hands of gravity pulled on their creased skin and bowed bones? Would you ever be able to find out? 
“I wasn’t aware you had a hobby of people-watching.” A baritone voice ghosts over your ear. 
Jolting your head to your right, you come face to face with the interruption. Or perhaps, your mind finally registered Alhaitham’s presence just off to the side of you. His arms were weighted down with various bags. 
Oh, that’s right, the markets and stalls were lively on the weekend with families restocking groceries for the upcoming week. You and Alhaitham were no different. 
Glancing up at his ashen trestles and then scanning back at the starlight locks of the elderly couple, and then back to your husband. 
“Hmm, not quite. Just noting the fact your hair is the same color as an old man’s, Haitham.” You catch the subtle twitch of his brow. 
“Is that so? I hope you are aware you’re not immune to the inevitably of aging, wife,” Alhaitham returns your jest. 
“Well, with your hair color and grumpiness, I’d say you’re already halfway there.” 
“I needn’t expound on your equivalent levels of grumpiness, it won’t be long before your locks share the same ashen hue.” 
“I guess that’s why we get along then, dear husband.” 
“That’s one theory,” he huffs, a simple tone lacking any bite.
You pan your face back toward the crowd, partly because it’s getting harder to hold the neutral position of your lips, partly because your curiosity aches for an untold conclusion. 
However, when your gaze returned to the ever-bustling sea of people, the pair of starlight hues were nowhere to be found. It was regrettable, but expected, the elderly couple were nothing more than a pair of strangers in a crowd full of unfamiliar faces.
They were just a brief scene that disappeared into the moving tides of people. 
Leaving you with your unresolved musings. 
“Is there anything else we need for the week?” 
Alhaitham’s voice reels your consciousness back, swiftly you check the crinkled slip of parchment within your hand. Scanning down the list of written items, all with a neat little line crossed through their immaculately penned letters. 
“It looks like we got everything we need.” You tuck the list into your pocket. 
“Then it’s best we get home before our groceries are spoiled by the heat.” Alhaitham readjusts the bags in his hands. 
A hum takes its place as your response. Pivoting your body in the direction of your shared home. From the corner of your field of view, his strides were paced to coincide with your shorter steps. 
Studying the numerous bags occupying his hands, you can’t help but think it’s quite convenient to have someone as robust as your husband. Maybe it's these weekly grocery runs that are the secret behind his physique. 
Discreetly, your hand slowly slips between the gap of his arm and body, linking your elbows together. So that your frame and his could withstand the push and pull of the crowd’s contentious momentum. 
The neutrality of your lips had long slipped away, softened by the familiarity of his warmth. Even as your eyes were pointed on the path ahead, you had an inkling that a similar occurrence was mirrored on his lips as well. 
An inquiry your curiosity didn’t need to peek to resolve. 
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That ache for an untold conclusion morphed into a new musing by the afternoon. 
The silver shimmer from that elderly couple’s hair truly was like starlight. Perhaps that’s the correlation that steered your thoughts down this winding path of pondering. 
Everyone, from those taking their first stumbling steps of youth to the slowed cane-assisted tramps in their golden years, is technically billions of years old. Or more accurately, the atoms and minerals in everyone are billions of years old. 
The carbon in muscles, the calcium in bones, and the iron in blood were all forged in the hearts of bygone stars. When those bright beacons burned out they exploded in one last finale, expelling those materials across interstellar space. Stardust that found its way here. 
Here within you, and here within the slow breaths of the man in front of you. 
After being around for billions of years, does stardust ever get exhausted? 
That would be a sensible explanation for why Alhaitham had snuck away amidst hanging up freshly washed laundry. 
His tall frame stretched the expanse of the couch as his starlight lashes were shut, shamelessly relishing in a nap under the streams of sunlight trickled in from the window. 
Squatting down you observe the guiltless expression plastered over his resting face, still deep in the trenches of sleep, a small huff passes through your lips. Well, this morning you did have him carry all the groceries from the market back home.
Your husband does deserve this little nap.
Trailing your eyes down his neck you note the lack of a pillow, then as your gaze travels further you note the absence of a blanket as well. Internally, your mind tsks at this forgetful habit of his. 
Although his body and yours still have youth coursing through your veins, it doesn’t mean they’ll remain as impervious as they are now later down the line, especially if preventative measures aren’t taken.
Like having a pillow to support one’s neck, or a blanket to prevent chills from plaguing the body. 
Standing back to full height, you retrieved the missing artifacts, returning with a plush pillow and light comforter.  
Even when his head was momentarily lifted to make space for the pillow, and when the spare comforter was draped over him, Alhaitham didn’t stir one bit. At times you can’t determine if he’s a light sleeper or if his stubbornness refuses to leave the plain of dreams. 
It’s a true wonder of life how Alhaitham’s able to sleep so soundly at night given his extensive naps. 
The vivid sunlight illuminated patterns upon his cheeks and trestles, causing the ashen strands to dazzle in their refraction of the afternoon light. A sight your eyes just couldn’t help but be enraptured by. 
Maybe you could blame the warmth of the sunlight, or maybe the serenity of this quiet Saturday afternoon, or perhaps even these fickle inquiries about his naps for the yawn that left your lips. Now might be the prime time for some research. 
Lifting up the comforter just enough for an opportunity to slip through, your body settles in the space right against his. It’s crowded on the couch, the cushions unprepared for two bodies to occupy its entirety, the open edge looming against your back.
Even after all the shuffling and pressing against his dozing frame, your husband didn’t budge a bit. 
Leaden lashes still shut and lips set in that all too familiar line, chest rhythmically rising and falling in time with yours. The very image of unperturbedness under the blessing of sleep. 
“You really are like an old man.” 
At that mere jab, the corners of his lips tugged down while his eyes remained closed. A quick slip that confirmed your earlier suspicions. 
“Who knew you were so talented in acting, Haitham,” you snicker. 
A muscular arm soon enveloped your form, further pressing you against his chest as if to silence any more sardonic quips from entering his ears. 
It was quite the challenge to stifle those giggles before they could erupt from your lips. Peeking up, there’s an ever-so-subtle lift at the corners of his mouth. An express which yours mirrored. 
Studying the details of the lips just a breath away, a new musing worms its way into your thoughts:
 When the hands of gravity and time start to pull down on his skin and yours the same, leaving wrinkles and creases in their wake, will the edges of his lips still curl like this? 
Would yours mirror the same? 
A second yawn sneaks past your lips as your lashes grow heavier with each fluttering blink. Claiming a corner of the pillow to lay your head upon, the seconds between each subsequent blink grew longer and longer until your lids were too heavy to lift. 
Perhaps the stardust in your bones was exhausted, craving a short rest in his warmth. 
--------------------------------
There’s something against your back and your legs are tangled in something, sensations which gradually alert your dozing sense back from the fog of slumber.
At first, you only had the strength to peek open one lid, then promptly shut it. But in the nothingness behind your eyelids, something was halting your limps from stretching the weariness out from themselves. 
You tried again, this time fluttering both sets of lashes apart ever so slightly. There’s a dry film coating your throat and mouth, feeling the impressions of the couch cushions and bundled comforter imprinted into your skin.  
What time was it?
Blinking away the haze of sleep just enough to notice how the golden rays of a star were missing. A gray overlay was plastered over the living room despite the ticking clock hands displaying that it was late afternoon.
Peering back through the window behind, observing the congregating insipid clouds blocking out the azure sky. 
A sure sign of rain despite the morning forecast. Rain… wasn’t there something left unfinished on the clotheslines outside? The groggy recollection of responsibilities creeps into the forefront of your mind. 
The reign of your weary limbs slowly returns, and your legs languidly attempt to stretch out from the reveal they were caught in. However, their movements only caused a pair of longer limbs to ensnarl them further.
Alhaitham’s legs promptly caught yours, stifling any prospect of escape. 
Your displeased whine was responded with a disgruntled groan by the man keeping your body locked against his. 
Wasn’t your back looming just about the edge of the couch when you fell asleep? So why are you in this position now?
Your body wedged between the plush backing of the couch and his solid frame, the comforter swaddling you also didn’t aid in your immobility. Brawny arm draped over your waist, halting your feeble squirms at freedom. 
“The laundry,” you mumble.
“Later.” A blunt interjection from a groggy voice. 
“It’s going to rain.” 
“Less than a 30% chance.” 
“Haitham…” 
Your husband simply burrows his head deeper into the leveled pillow, likely an attempt to leverage the cushy material to block out your grievances. His ashen lashes still stubbornly shut, much to your displeasure.
“Alhaitham.”
No fluctuations in your volume nor tone, but it was enough for one teal eye to peek out from under ashen lashes. Trailing up to a subtle frown to the furrow between your brow, then finally meeting your unamused stare.
“Laundry,” you try again. 
A silent stare down, one stone face gazing upon an equally stoic face, like an immovable object pressed against an equally immovable object.
Which one will defend their title of most stubborn today? 
His chest expands with a deep breath, grasp enclosing around your waist before his teal gaze shamelessly vanishes behind closed lashes. Robust frame pinning you further to the back of the couch as he continues to ignore your huffy floundering. 
“Release me, don’t you dare-” 
Your grievance was soon muffled by a gentle hand pressing your cheek into his palatial chest. A move that stupefies the irksomeness bubbling within until it falls defeated into placidness. 
“Whether it be now or later, they’ll be clean regardless, it’s quite comfortable right here.” The resonance of his voice vibrates in his chest. 
You respond with a humbled grunt. In terms of strength you’d always lose to your feeble husband, wouldn’t you? 
There’s no point in peering up, for the pleased satisfaction of his resting face would bring a sour taste to your tongue. Thus, you merely adjust your limbs, coiling your arms around to his back and pulling his form closer.
It’s crowded on the couch, it’ll be troublesome if Alhaitham were to slip off the edge if his back were to stray any further. 
At this distance, entangled so closely together, the soft beats of his heart in time with yours like a rhythmic lullaby beckons the heavy to return to your eyelids.
The gentle drumming of his heartbeat coaxes out a final sigh from you, lashes descending down as your vision dims back into the realm of slumber. 
Slow breaths and heartbeats homogenize into a tender duet, tranquil enough to distract from the sporadic pattering against the glass and gradually increase in consistency. 
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A less than 30% chance of rain doesn’t mean that there’s a greater than 70% chance of no rain. It’s merely a statistical probability of 0.01 units of more precipitation at a given area in the given forecast area in the time period specified. 
Known as the precipitation probability, calculated based on two factors: 
The forecaster's certainty that precipitation will form or move into the area X The areal coverage of precipitation that is expected, then multiplied by 100. 
Thus, if the forecaster were 90% certain that 30% of the forecast area would receive rain, then the forecast displayed on screens would read as a 27% chance of rain.
A crucial bit of information that seemed to have slipped his mind midst a quiet afternoon. 
A troublesome miscalculation Alhaitham tsks at internally as he wrings out the pillowcase into a sink before tossing it back into the washing machine. Button-down shirts and blouses, wrinkled from the process of twisting out as much rainwater as possible, sat in damp piles awaiting their turn to be rewashed. 
As he measures out the detergent he can hear the rattles and clanks of the pot and pans from the kitchen. A late dinner in preparation, a task which was supposed to be his this week.
When he woke up to the pattering of rain drumming against the window panes, the afternoon long gone, it stirred an ever-so-sinking pit of dread. Second only to the unamused stare of his wife as she replicated an overconfident statement:
“Less than a 30% chance, Alhaitham?”
How unfortunate it all was, that the area where this quaint house resides was part of that 30% of the forecasted area.
Teal eyes watch the bedsheets whirl and fumble as they spin in the wash, contemplating the circumstance and further action. 
There is only one spare bedding set in the closet, so it’d be wise to allow you to have it for tonight as all the sheets and covers get rewashed and dried.
Your bed is about the same size as his, so two bodies wouldn’t have an issue fitting. At this rate, the two of you just slept in whichever bed was the most convenient. 
However, given the current state of things, Alhaitham wonders if he should prepare himself to brave tonight on his bare mattress with a flimsy spare blanket and pillow.
He might as well return to the couch for tonight if that was the case. 
The accumulation of all the years of science, mathematics, and research, Alhaitham wonders if there was ever a bright mind who came up with a formula to calculate how displeased one’s wife is.
What would be the factors plugged into the equation? And how accurate would it be? 
More specifics needed to be gathered, something the man couldn’t do in the refugee of the laundry room. Thus, Alhaitham must brave a journey into the kitchen. His slipper-clad footsteps are slow and methodical as the kitchen appears from around the corner of the hallway.
Sights honed in on your back as you stood by the stove, a rich aroma wafting through the air. 
Sleep still dusted your hair, evident in the few unruly strands sticking up erratically on your head, you made no attempt at fixing it. One hand is too occupied with stirring the pot on the stove, and the other set upon your hip.
Your stance wasn’t exactly tipping the scales in his favor. 
Cautiously, Alhaitham made his way to you. Stopping just a few paces as your eyes peer over your shoulder, stoic gaze halting him in place just a few paces away. The faded imprint of the crumpled blankets and couch cushions on your cheek.
His hand twitches with the urge to run his thumb along the impressions, but rationally warns him of the consequences. 
“The laundry?” No discernable tone in your voice. 
“Everything has been collected and wrung out, I’ll rewash everything tomorrow.” It’s best to answer your questions this time. 
“Hmm, they were out in the rain for quite a while now. They were dripping out onto the floor when you brought them in.” 
“I’ve mopped away any rain and mud tracked between the back door and laundry room.” Teal eyes quickly checked the aforementioned area to ensure they were pristine before returning to you. 
“Hmm.” You turn back towards the stove. 
The soft ticks of the clock accompany the waning drums of raindrops against the glass, the kitchen hood whirring as a ladle continues to stir in a pot. A quiet lull engulfed the home. Treading on the side of caution, Alhaitham inhales deeply. 
Without opening the box, one will never be able to confirm to fate of Schrödinger's cat. 
“What’s for dinner?” 
“Hmm? Well, it’s raining tonight, what better to eat on a rainy night than some Sabz Meat Stew, no?” 
He’s careful to not sigh too audibly, lest he goes to bed with a stomach half-full of instant noodles and that miffed stare of yours.
Alhaitham decides to hold his tongue as teal eyes continue to watch you add more spices to the pot. Studying how nicely the apron is tied around your waist. 
But it wouldn’t be wise of him to stand so close when the fabric of his shirt was still damp with rainwater transferred to him by the soaked laundry and sky. 
His chain of thought was interrupted by the chimes of your phone on the countertop, catching your eyes as well as his to peek at the over. A certain name is displayed across the screen. It’s as if the hands of fate wanted to throw more salt into his face. 
Bahram (Manager)
It’s a Saturday night, for what reason would an employer need to contact an employee so late?
Alhaitham’s focus shifts to your gaze which is still honed in on the screen. A bitter tinge crawls up the tip of his tongue, threatening to spoil his appetite. Perhaps, he wouldn’t mind settling down in his bare bed with just a spare comforter without dinner tonight.
“Can you reject the call for me? He can wait until Monday to get me to resolve whatever he messed up,” you scoff before rolling your eyes back to the stove. 
Swiftly he swipes to decline the call, let your voicemail remind Bahram of the concept of ‘off time’. The phone whirs again right after the first rejection, but he simply swipes decline again.
Pushing the device away with a bit too much satisfaction in his veins. 
Glancing back at your frame, he lets out a sigh as he relents. Resting his head into the crook of your neck, careful to leave a bit of distance between your bodies and to not hamper your shoulder’s movement. 
“Hm?” You hum expectantly. 
“It was my oversight tonight.” A string of words a bit unfamiliar on his tongue, but stubbornness hasn’t been in his favor tonight. 
“And?”
“I’ll be more cautious regarding naps.” 
“Hmph.” 
The lull returns, him resting his head on your shoulder and you continuing to watch over the stew. Teal eyes on you and your eyes on the stove. Until your shoulders raise with a deep inhale. 
“Go get changed out of that wet shirt then set the table, this bastardized version of ‘soup’ will be ready in 20 minutes.” You reach for a skillet just off to the side. 
He hums this time, the liberation from treading in suffocating lull tugs at the end of his lips. He surmises that laying his head against you for a few moments more won’t be so consequential. 
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The patter of raindrops still splattered against the glass panes of the window, drops which warped and blurred the scenery beyond the glass. Not that there’s any scenery to look at, not with the dreary clouds crowding the sky. 
A heavy sigh huffs through your nose, curling onto your side as you adjust your pillow. 
A filling dinner, a warm shower, and soft comforters. Factors that should contribute to a restful night’s sleep, or at the very least make your eyelids weary with the weight of lethargy.
Yes, perhaps those components should’ve granted you entry into the reprieve of a dream. 
If it wasn’t for the fact you’ve intruded into the domain of slumber twice already today. 
And the tempter who lured you to do so currently has his arm wrapped around your waist. 
Alhaitham’s chest rises and falls against your back, soundly asleep without an ounce of guilt over the predicament he’s partly responsible for. 
Lifting your head off the flattened pillow, your body twists around to fluff the stale stuffing back up before settling back to your position.
His body rested against yours just as it would any other night. But there’s a weight at the corners of your lips, one only grew heavier as your ears witnessed each content exhale resounding from the man who seemingly stole your sleep. 
If you were crueler, you would’ve exiled Alhaitham to the couch or his barren mattress. 
However, he’d probably sleep just fine regardless. 
Canting your head up, you flip your pillow to the other side once more. 
Your rolls and rhythm were abruptly interrupted by the clasp of two harsh hands pulling your hips into his, the contours of his rigor now digging into the plush of your ass. Forcing a stunned gasp up your throat.
“It seems like my wife has quite a bit of energy.” His timbre deeper from grogginess. 
Ah, all the twisting and turning you did just to adjust the troublesome pillow must've disturbed him. 
The softness of your ass cradled against his pelvis through the thin material of a button-down, an item borrowed from his closet that you’ve designated as sleepwear, and his sweatpants. 
‘Serves him right.’ 
Your attempts to twist out from his iron-clad hold only ground your ass more against the stiffness, earning a grumble from his lips. 
“Oh? And who’s fault is it?” You retort, still protesting in his hold. 
Snaking one hand downwards Alhaitham presses against your lower stomach to arch your ass further into him. Leaning his face closer to yours. 
“Do you want me to take responsibility?” His whisper ghosts over the shell of your ear.
You could feel the pads of his fingertips tracing under the loose button-down.
“Shouldn’t you resolve the issues you’ve caused?” A huff leaves you.
The outline of his shape pressed along your skin, the plushness of your bottom contrasting against the rigidity. 
“I can say the same to you.” 
The pads of his fingers trail up your heated skin, crawling along your torso, feathering touches alighting your senses like sparks. Massaging the tired yet restless muscles. You sigh in contentment.
The billowing button-down dragged up by his vascular hand, unveiling your skin to the cool sheets. Wandering touches slow as they rest in the valley of your breasts. His fingers enclose around one mount, gently twisting the defenseless nipple.
“H-hey! Hmph-“ Barely catching a moan before it fled past sealed lips. 
“Hm?” His lips are now right next to your ears. “Surely you foresaw this, I’m just helping my wife with all her excess energy.”
His forgotten hand made its presence known as it kneaded your hips, cunning touches breaching under the feeble defenses of your panties. Effortlessly brushing them to the side, long fingers encroaching closer to their destination. 
Your thighs react, squeezing together to prevent him from venturing further. Unfortunately, it was all in vain, for his fingertips already dipped into an all too familiar sap.
“See, you seem quite eager,” he taunts.
Stubbornly, your body attempts to buckle away from his influence. Face firmly pointed away from his lest he peeks at your heated cheeks. 
Alhaitham abandons the perch on your breast, two large hands attempting to tame the bucks and rolls of your hips. He releases a slow sigh into the crook of your neck. 
“Are you not feeling it tonight?” His hands remain where they were, but the strength missing.
At the lack of resistance, your hips seem to have lost interest in their writhing, staying within his yielding hold. Internally, you chiding your body for being so straightforward. The only thing blocking an answer from exiting your throat was that fickle ego of yours. 
“Won’t you allow me to make up for my blunders today, wife?” He soothes his hand along your leg.
With that stubborn ego of yours still biting down on your tongue, you simply nod your head. Feeling the heat of your cheeks reflected to you by the pillow. 
Permitting your thighs to give into the tow of his grasp. Allowing the grip of one large hand to pull your bent leg open, exposing your vulnerable cunt. Shielded from the view of the raindrops by a mere blanket. 
The hand snaked under your waist took swift advantage of the oppurtunity. Sliding one firm finger down to part the fold of your slit as his warm hand cups your greed. 
Alhaitham continued with the caresses of his fingers. Your lashes and lips pressed tightly shut, your leg still held in his tender hold. His slow breaths brush ghosting your skin. 
He spreads the slick along your slit, the tips of his fingers ever so often knocking against the bud at the very top. Teal eyes catch the sudden jolts of your body every time it happens. 
He moves his fingers downwards, slowly parting the now soft folds of your core. Feeling the subtle puckers of your entrance as his touch traced closer, more wetness dribbling out from the honeypot. 
The tip of his finger now encircles the fluttering hole. Your hip subtly bucked into his hand, as if to lure him in a soundless plea. 
Breaths getting deeper as your eyes follow his touch, the warm pad of his index finger twirling against your clit. Stoking a burgeoning fire with each slow circle. Your placid sighs fill the lull. 
His middle finger ventures past the entrance of your satin walls welcomed with a lewd squelch. Curling his finger against slick walls to test the give, he wonders if this hidden oasis is etched into his shape yet.
Diligently, his digit continues to sink in and out of your weeping hole, making your teeth sink into the flesh of your bottom lip. The squelches increased in volume as trickles of nectar began pooling on the sheets. Walls clamping around a lonely finger, it wasn’t enough to quell that mounting heat within. 
A second deft finger joined in, sliding past a hungry entrance. A tangled dance amongst gummy walls as they curled and stretched the space. The lewd squelches resounding in your ear, a whimper trapped in your throat. The heel of his warm palm now pressed flat against the soft mound of your cunt, every movement of his hand resulting in a grind against your clit. 
Each grind causes a hot flash to shock throughout your body, starting from your curled toes to the very top of your head. The jostling of your hips and legs gradually expels the blanket off the bed. 
“Mmph!” A whine from a sudden surge of bliss when his thick fingers curled against a spongy patch deep within. 
“T-there! More there!”
Your body writhes, no longer docile under the white searing pleasure frying the ends of every nerve within your being. 
He gladly obliges. Unrelenting rhythm slipping in and out of your convulsing walls. Ensuring to grind against that spongey patch.
 Your body twitches and flails in reaction. Trying to find some way to handle this surcharge of sensations. 
Legs instinctively wanting to shut together as if to cease this turbulent sensation, unfortunately, your pitiful strength gave no resistance against his rigid hold.
Piqued by the sweet tune, Alhaitham watches the scrunch in your trembling brows. He repeats his actions, another mewl leaves your lips as your head leans further into his shoulder.
The mellow pace of his fingers suddenly amps up, retreating out only to clap back in as his palm presses into the twitching bud. 
“Ah! Haitham.”
A pressure mounting up, a sirens call beckoning you closer and closer to a hazardous cliff’s edge. The only foundation for your sanity is thousand-count fabric, thus you twist the silk fibers as tremors overtake your body.
Walls clamping down to trap his thick digits inside as it spasms. Muscles tensing and quivering as your back arches away from his chest, parted lips with nothing choking past them. 
Three thick fingers sink deeper into your pussy without a hint of resistance, as a reward he makes sure to roll your overstimulated clit in firm circles with his palms. Judging from the violent tremors in your legs, it seemed you were almost there. 
Just at the cusp of rapture when your hand tangles into his ashen-locks, canting your head back so that your panting lips could capture his. Alhaitham returns to gesture with just as much fervor in his kiss, swallowing down your sweet mewls for himself. 
With a singular gasp, the siren’s call had beckoned your sanity to drown in the murky depths. It’s as if you lost control of your body to the possession of pleasure.
Eyes rolled back and lips broke away as breathy moans escaped the prison of your throat, a haze heavy over your thoughts, pride long lost amongst the gale of an orgasm. 
The beckoning depths of euphoria welcome your descent. 
Your limp frame rests against him. A light layer of sweat coating your panting chest, blurred vision merging and blending the details of the ceiling above the bed.
Alhaitham coaxes the contractions of your core, riding out the waves of their squeezes and sucks against his fingers. Earning an addictive whimper from you when his digits pulled away. Entranced by the glimmering string of nectar stretching between his fingers and your oasis. 
Trailing back up to your face, he notes the return of your hazy irises from their ogle of the bedroom ceiling. 
“Better?” Teal gaze watching the pants of your chest as they steady. 
‘No, not at all’, a statement just at the tip of your tongue, but your lips were busy attempting to grasp deep breaths. The surplus of vigor festering into unquenchable desire. To be closer, deeper, more. You needed more. 
Where words fail, action must take its place. Even before your mind finishes up the scheme brewing within, your lips catch him off guard, plush lips embracing his in a tender waltz.
Your body rolls back so that your breast can press against his chest through the thin fabric of his stolen shirt.
At the tender caress of your kiss, teal eyes disappear behind ashen lashes, the clasp of his grip loosening. Allowing you the mobility to finally pull your body on top of his, lips never once parting until you were finally settled atop his broad body.
A certain stiffness makes its reintroduction against your roused clit.
Breaking the seal of the kiss as a line of salvia stretches between your tongues, arms pushing against his firm chest to prop your body up as you gaze down at him.
“Still have too much energy?” Haughty eyes peer into yours, yet you can see the ardor oh so thinly concealed behind the brilliant teal. 
“What do you mean? Aren’t you the eager one?” You hum, rolling your hips against the rigidness trapped behind the prison of sweatpants.
“Hmm.” He sucks in a breath through his teeth. 
Large hands feel down along the plumpness of your ass as they drag a flimsy bit of fabric down your thighs. Daintier hands pull down the hem of sweatpants and briefs. 
A fair exchange. Him helping you out of those ruined panties, and you freeing him from a compressed prison of cloth. Discarded and forgotten along the floorboards as the fog of passion obscured them from further consideration.
His vascular hands slide down the curves of your body, settling on your hip as your legs plant themselves on either side of his body. Alhaitham coaxes the hem of his stolen button-down just above your midriff. Sharp eyes surveying the puffiness of your clit, glistening with temptation. 
Lowering your hips a breathy sigh leaves his lips and yours as the ridges of his cock drag against your slick folds. A few slow rolls starting from his leaking tip sliding down, thick veins skimming against your swollen clit. Precum mixing with arousal in a sinful concoction along his length. 
Perhaps he should convince you to participate in more naps if he knew it’d make you this excitable. 
“Oh,” you hum aloud, pausing your hips as you reach over to the bedside table.
Pulling open the drawer and rustling about a box followed by the crinkling of foil. Holding up the corner of the packet to your lip, tearing the foil while your gaze held his. Taking your time in dragging the condom out from its package. Easing it down his length while your fingers traced along, feeling each twitch and shudder. 
“You sure do know how to test my patience.” 
“Hmm?” You feign innocence. 
A pair of shaky breaths mingle as Alhaitham helps position his engorged tip at your dripping entrance. Your hand guides him while raising your hips.
Other hand pressing his chest down for support as your thighs sink back down, a shameful squelch accompanying heavy breaths as your walls welcome his cock’s fat head.
Weeping pussy engulfing his girth in bit by bit until you clit kisses his pelvis. Sending jolts of searing pleasure that caused your satin walls to twitch and tighten. 
Releasing a breathy sigh as you gather your senses.
Drawing out his cock inch by thick inch, sloppy trails of arousal caught on each ridge before dropping back down. Earning low grunts and sighs each time your satin walls swallowed his girth. The rhythm of your hips is paced and controlled despite how Alhaitham’s fingers dug into your skin. 
A whine living your drooling lips with each slap of his skin against your clit. Pushing each tantalizing inch to stroke your starved walls until his skin claps against yours with a wet kiss. The bedframe creaks with each calculated movement, back and forth, back and forth the wood sings along. 
Your head was light, intoxicated by a feverish potion of lust and desire. Feeling him reach the deepest depths, fat tip grinding against those spots which made your legs falter momentarily each time.
Utilizing the strength of both your arms now to support yourself. However, the jolts of pleasure that shot up your spine with each roll of your hips were too maddening to stop. 
His calloused fingers massage circles into your hips. Squeezing the plush flesh to ground his sanity, watching your lewd face as you shamelessly bounced on him for your pleasure. Observing the subtle ripples with each slap of your hips and the jumps of your perky breast. 
The ghostly touches of your fingers skim across his lips, prompting his eyes to connect with yours. Lush and glossy lips parted with your deep pants as your lust-hazed eyes peer down at him, unspoken plea inscribed within them. Who is he to not fulfill your desires?
Lurching his upper body up, he answers your plea, capturing your lips with his. Swiping his tongue against your bottom lip, deepening the kiss. A messy and feverish tangle as if to replace the air in your lungs with his. 
Mewls and whimpers muffled by his skin, your hands moving to perch themselves on his broad shoulders. Your quivering legs grew limp as the strength of his hands took over. Barely processing the sweet nothings whispered as your core relishes in the fullness. Like an ache that’s been finally satisfied. 
He wondered if tonight’s excessive vigor was fraying his control, or if your body was just this addictive. 
By now any notion of decency and integrity has long left you, your hand clawing into his shoulders, marking him with the scars of rapture. A harsh thrust of his hips recoils through you, a wanton moan reverbing off the walls as it forces your tangled lips to part. 
Tongue unable to produce anything other than strained moans, your head nods into his broad shoulder as your hips ground against his. The wet squelch announces the reciprocation of your walls. 
The intervals of those unrelenting rams increasing between the tender thrusts, half-lidded eyes trained on the shivers of your body. Cock sliding against satin ridges of your wall. Grunts and pants reverberate through his throat, teeth clenching as your heat engulfs him again. Reaching deeper into your welcoming core as your lips fall open. 
“Is this not enough?” You could feel the mirth in his whisper. 
Closer, deeper, more. You want more. Walls aching for more, for his girth to jostle your core more, to extinguish this all-consuming heat within you. Hips floundering in harmony with breathy mewls. 
Pressing libidinous kisses along his throat feeling the vibrations of his grunts and pants, a deep chuckle was soon felt against your lips.
“Good grief you are a greedy little thing aren’t you.” 
A deafening slam of skin resounds through the heavy air, swiftly followed by another and another. A new tempo in this waltz of passion takes over like a wave sweeping both of you out to a sea of indulgence.
Possessed by the desperation of chasing a white light, your hand rakes deeper into his toned arms. Seizing anything to prevent your mind from abandoning your sinful body as his girth twitches within your velvety folds. 
Sanity like a foolish sailor who’s beckoned by the lure of a siren’s voice, uncaring of the rocks which will sink them to the very bottom of the bemused tides. Keening against your husband shamelessly, a shameless wife on the cusp of her second fall into ecstasy. 
The heavy scent of lust, the smothering heat, his unrelenting and unshakable thrusts amalgamating into the spark that lit your nerves alight. Toes arched into the air and eyes reaching the back of your head. Sobs and incoherent babbles resounding through the room. 
Your devious walls clamped around his dick with maddening convulsions, gummy muscles suckling against his girth eager to quell your aching greed. It was too much. 
His fingers claw into your soft hips, pressing your cunt flush against his hips with a sloppy slap of skin. The bulbous tip prodding against that weakness deep within you. Bruising grip holding your body in place as his lips crash back into yours.
Swallowing down his breathless groans with your sweet mewls and praddles.
A heat is spilled into the rubber, making your greedy walls quiver amidst the aftershocks of ecstasy. Alhaitham’s hips twitch with each subsequent rip of his orgasm, thrusting his length further into your crowded cavity with each one. The filthiness of it all prolongs your sinful depravity. 
Chest expanding with pants, your lopsided shirt falling further down your shoulder. Your eyes return from seeing blinding white, exhaustion drenching each fiber of your body.
Limp figure crumbling against your husband as his back lays back on the creaking headboard. Even before your worn mind could conjure a coherent thought, your hands caress his starlight tresses. 
As his own breath evades him Alhaitham releases one hand to cup your cheek, thumb brushing softly against your smoldering skin, guiding your lips back to his. 
Basking in the warmth forged between your bodies, between drumming heartbeats and breathless lungs. 
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Two bodies lay under silken sheets, skin freshly wiped clean of sweat as the crisp breeze brushed against the curtains gradually erasing the sinful haze. The cool air aids your rising and falling chest to pace itself. 
Muscles and bones heavy with fatigue, yet your eyes couldn’t bring themselves to retire behind shut lids. Not when those dreary clouds have finally retreated. 
The moon hangs high in the sky, finally free from the shroud of rain clouds, she sits among the twinkling dots. Twinkling dots were in actuality brilliant stars, some even larger and brighter than the beloved sun. 
Glimmering lustrously as they traverse through the contentious vacuum of space and past other nameless stars. A scene from a late-morning market trip wanders its way back from the depths of your memory, bringing its musings with it.
“Something on your mind?” A timbre voice beckons your conscious mind back from its trek.
Teal eyes set upon yours as your heads rest on plush pillows, just a breath away from one another.
“Hm, just senseless musings.” Your gaze shifts away from the window. 
In a changed world with millions of hands will your hands and his find each other to make two pairs of hands?
In a different time with a million pairs of legs, will your steps and his steps still coincide in time with each other 
In a new life with a sea of new faces, will a stoic face and another stoic face spot each other in the crowd? 
What is the likelihood of those odds? 
“If you keep letting your thoughts fester, it’ll only bring trouble upon yourself in the morning from sleep deprivation.” He shifts his position, supporting his cheek on his fist as he stares down at your face. 
You sigh because he spoke exactly what those whispers of rationale were urging you, but the scoffs of pride had deemed these rampant inquiries ‘childish’. However, it’s a bit hard to avoid his eyes now. 
“I was just musing about the soulmates concept again,” you confess. 
Alhaitham hums in curiosity. 
“Do you…” You take a deep breath, forcing the hard-to-vocalize question from your tongue. “Do you think we’ll only be together in this life?” 
He’s silent. Just the muted chorus of Summer crickets rejoicing over the conclusion of a rainstorm resounding through the space.
“In a different time, a different universe, or the next life, do you think we’ll be soulmates again?” You muster together the courage to peer up at his face. 
“I don’t recall ever reading an article or paper related to this topic, so it’ll be convoluted to get an answer.” He brings his other hand to his face, signifying his musings. 
Right, there isn’t even a definitive answer for what happens after life passes, an afterlife, a cycle, or nothing, no one knows. Was this the only universe where life exists or are there infinitely many far out there in the stars? Does anyone know?
Your hand pulls your blanket up to your face, partially to cover the growing shame creeping up your face. That haughty voice within was right, these baseless questions are silly and childish. Perhaps even too morbid to bring up so unprompted on this weekend night. 
What were you expecting Alhaitham to even do? Did you want him to give you an answer? What can he even do? A question you can’t even begin to understand, why would you even expect him to have some solution prepared? 
What to do now? Can you just take back your previous words from his memory, so he’ll just forget what you said? Maybe just ask him to quell any more mindless musings from plaguing you tonight by placing his lips on your forehead? So that you could finally drift into the realm of slumber. 
However, is that temporary solution enough? Enough to stifle the contentions and riddles clattering together into a clamorous ruckus in your head? Could sleep even spare you from their tumult? 
“The Membrane Multiverse Theory or reincarnation, hm, do you have any personal theories you’d like to share?” The sensation of his fingers grasping yours brings you back to reality. 
Glancing at him with a quirk in your brow, you wait for him to continue. 
“Who knows, maybe we’ll be the first to publish something for this topic.” His thumb runs along your knuckles. 
“So, is there a speculation or possible rationale you feel particular to?” Teal eyes reconnect with yours. 
“Well…” You sigh, relishing in the warmth of his hand as you concoct a half-baked theory. 
“There’s stardust from stars that had burst billions of years ago, that have somehow ended up on this planet. Subsequently, every being on earth has the atoms of stars in them. So, naturally by the law of conservation, the earth is where the atoms of the human body will return.”
“Based on the law that atoms cannot be created or destroyed?” He drones. 
“Yes, they all had to come from something before them. The carbon in muscles, the calcium in bones, and the iron in blood. The atoms that make up you and I might become part of something else, or even of different people too.” 
“Hm, that sounds probable.”
“But, then this brings up a whole new host of questions, such as, if the new people our atoms become a part of are even ‘us’? Will they ever meet? What if you become a tree and I a rock? What if the atoms of you end up on one side of Teyvat and I on the other end?”
You peer into his irises, but you were just searching for an answer that isn’t there. 
For his beryl irises were impassive. But it was the impassive foundation you needed to ground your rambling thoughts and nonsensical musings into the desolate truth of it all.
The warmth of his hand slips away.
“Never mind, I suppose it’s the most logical to conclude that we’re just soulmates in this instance of time, in this universe, and only here.” Your hand closes over the empty space he left. 
Maybe it’s wise to dismiss it as silly rambling and then withdraw from his indecipherable eyes. Is it too late to put this plan into motion now?
The weight of a muscular arm is draped over your waist, hand pulling you closer unlike your ploy to escape. 
“But I have a few theories I haven’t shared yet.” He glances out toward the bedroom window. 
“While the theory of reincarnation currently doesn’t have any solid scientific backing, in some way, the law of conservation of mass does give a bit of merit to that notion.” Alhaitham draws circles into the small of your back. 
You hum in response. 
“The atoms that created us will return to the earth after us and become a part of something or someone else’s molecular structure. A tree or a rock, a human or a beast, it’s all probable. However…” Beryl eyes return to meet yours. 
“What’s stopping them from repeating the same molecular structures as right now?” He asks. 
Maybe it was his turn to peer into your eyes to search for an answer, an answer currently brewing and forging between your united gazes. 
“What’s stopping these atoms from returning to these exact molecular structures in the future? In a different time, the atoms of us now could one day in the far future come together again and make ‘us’ once more. Maybe just you, maybe just me, or maybe both at the same time.” 
He frees his other hand from the duty of supporting his head, broad body settling down into the bed and blankets, allowing his face to move closer to your level upon his pillow. 
“What’s the likelihood of those odds? Me and you again?” You ask. 
Alhaitham pauses. All the bright minds of science, mathematics, and physics, have yet to come up with a formula to calculate such a thing.
What would be the factors plugged into the equation? And how accurate would it even be?
The ashen-haired man wasn’t sure, but there was at least a statistical observation that would provide some basis. 
“A true 0% chance is an absolute impossibility, just as nothing can be proven absolutely 100%. Since we don't know the absolutes of time, existence, or physics. So, there’ll always be a non-zero chance.” Feeling the drums of your heartbeat against his chest. 
“Then, when they do, I think I’ll spend my life pondering what could fit into the spaces between my fingers like this.” He slips his hand into the gaps of yours, intertwining them. 
Then finally, he saw the smile he’d been yearning for rising on your lush lips. The ends of your eyes crinkle as it make its way to your irises as well. Your grip mirrors his as you nestle your face closer to his. 
“You won’t get tired of this stoic face?” You taunt.
“Will you get tired of mine?” He counters. 
Your shoulders quiver with stifled giggles. 
“No, no I won’t,” you promise him. 
“Then I won’t,” he promises back. 
His larger hand brings yours closer to himself, all the while your attentive eyes watch failing to keep the curl of your lips under control. 
“Any thoughts on the Membrane Multiverse Theory? How will your astute mind surmise the possibility of us laying like this somewhere else in the stars?” Honeyed-voice mimicking awe as your face inches closer.
“I believe I’ve shared enough, I’d much rather hear what your brilliant postulate is.” His tone casted with mirth, but the bite missing from teal eyes. 
Letting a soft hum, your mind rifling through all the paragraphs and journals your hands had ever thumbed through.
The soft rhythm of his breaths kept time. Stringing the words together on your tongue, you hope this monologue of yours will provide some amusement for him. 
“If universes are randomly put into 2 boxes of ‘yes’ and ‘no’, then on average the number of universes in each box would be the same. For every universe I’m not with you, there’ll be equally as many where I am with you.” 
A coin toss, perhaps it was all just a coin toss after all. Whether or not the Akasha paired a stoic face with another stoic face, for the gaps of your fingers to fit his so perfectly.
It could have all been a coin toss, for one half to stumble upon the other half cruelly parted from them by the hands of unseen gods. 
“Something akin to a bijection existing between both sets of universes?” He cross-examines. 
“Maybe… If we were to assign one type ‘yes’ to a positive integer, and the other type ‘no’ to a negative integer, then perhaps we can construct a bijection from the positive and negative integers.” Your brow furrows in contemplation. 
“If we submit this theory do you think the Akademiya would publish it?” 
“Not likely, bijections are usually made between sets of elements like numbers, not sure if bijections can be applied to something like whole universes. I’m just hypothesising nonsense,” you sigh.
“But they did publish the nonsense known as The Lifespan of Love,” he interjects. 
“Hm, then maybe there’s a non-zero chance they’ll publish our nonsense too.” You stifle a scoff. 
“Hm,” Alhaitham hums in amused agreement. 
His free hand pulls the covers further up over your frame then smoothing out the wrinkles. Observing the growing delays between your slowing blinks.
“Only you and I would turn pillow talk into an academic deliberation.” You couldn’t hold back the giggle any longer. 
He sighs in agreement, nestling his head closer to yours on the plush pillows, teal gaze never once leaving yours. 
“It’ll make any romantic keel over and die from how dry it is, wouldn’t it, Haitham?”
“I say let them.” 
Scoffing and shaking your head at his crude declaration as a yawn slips past your lips, a conclusion to this nonsensical academic deliberation.
With one hand still intertwined in the tender grasp of another you pull Alhaitham closer. So that the spaces of your body could lay against the spaces of his. 
The warmth of his skin mingling with the warmth of yours, pressed against one another. You drawing mindless shapes into his back, his hand tracing senseless ruins into yours.
Perhaps, an illogical attempt to echt memories into the stardust in your bodies. 
So he and you could imprint the memory of each other into the very fibers of your beings. Then maybe someday when these atoms return to these exact molecular structures, they’ll remember this too. 
The law of conservation of mass, the probabilities upon probabilities, and bijections used in an inconsequential pseudo-academic ramblings to no one but an audience of silent stars.
Alhaitham’s certain no academic publisher would spare a glance at them. 
But this nonsensical instance in the continuum of time, feeling the rhythm of your heart on the other side of his chest next to his own, is his most precious epiphany. 
Fin~
©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS. 
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seri-tonin · 11 months
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I keep seeing people say that Kaveh and Alhaitham are incompatible and I'm just like... no u don't get it. They are so compatible that I'm convinced they're literally made for each other. They're both so incredibly stubborn but underneath all the bickering, they clearly have a ton of respect for each other and recognize each other's intelligence. It's because of both that mutual respect and their directly opposing worldviews and ideals that make them both pretty much the only people that are capable of influencing good and meaningful change in the other. Kaveh brings the empathy and artistry that Alhaitham needs while Alhaitham keeps Kaveh grounded. Alhaitham always seems so much more relaxed in every scene where he interacts with Kaveh. Alhaitham is pretty much the only person that Kaveh doesn't feel the need to go full people-pleaser with (excluding the occasional client that really manages to piss him off). They're actually perfect for each other.
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v1r33n · 3 months
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I should sleep I should sleep I sh- DO YOU KNOW THAT ALHAITHAM CARES ABOUT KAVEH SO MUCH THAT HE ACTS IN A SPECIFIC WAY ((LIKE ASKING FOR RENT)) NOT TO LET KAVEH'S GUILT MAKE THE ARCHITECT REFUSE HIS HELP!!!! OR OR THE FACT THAT HE CAN'T SAY OUT LOUD THAT HE CARES BECAUSE KAVEH WOULD NEVER BELIEVE HIM SO HE HAS TO BE SO SUBTLE AND PRECISE WITH HIS ACTIONS SO KAVEH NEVER FINDS OUT AND FEELS EVEN MORE GUILTY ABOUT IT BECAUSE HE BELIEVES THAT A PERSON LIKE HIM DOESN'T DESERVE IT [FUCK U KAVEH YOU DO DESERVE IT PLS] AND THEN THE MIRRORING BETWEEN THE TWO IS A DISRUPTIVE DANCE WHERE THEY UNCONSCIOUSLY REBUILD THE OTHER UP FROM THE CORE AND- *gunshot*
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nutmegnogart · 1 year
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Day 02: Soulmate marks
The real reason Alhaitham and Cyno cover their eyes~
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Just kaveh claiming alhaitham has no romantic bone in his body only to be proved flagrantly incorrect
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luminique · 3 months
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It will always be you
☆ alhaitham x gn!reader
☆ angst, reader dies, he calls you 'dear' once, he tries to comfort you, maybe ooc (?) wc: 358, not proofread !
☆ everyday, my brain thinks about soulmates and how i believe that no matter which timeline, it was you and only you and argh! needed to write that for my fav. i promise i'll post fluff next, i have it rotting in my drafts rn (┬┬﹏┬┬)
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“Do you think we’d be lovers in another life?” A perplexing question, not something Alhaitham expected from you even in your final moments. How does one answer such a question? It’s not like he’s some sort of omniscient being that can see into the vast space and time of the universe. But at this moment, he wished he could. He wished he could put your worries aside like you’ve always done for him. Now all he’s left with is you, holding your hand, trying to not let go. 
And maybe in another life you two would be lovers. Lovers who would be clinging to each other as you walked through the Bazaar, taking in the smells and colors of all of the goods the merchants have to offer. Hearing every stall owner tell you both that you looked like such a lovely couple and convincing you to buy items in pairs. 
And maybe in another life, you two would be at home, snuggling up on the couch. Reading books, watching some show, or just talking. Oh how much he dreams to hear your voice again, talking about whatever piques your interest. 
“Yes. Of course, dear. We’ll always be lovers, be it now or in the next life.”
And maybe in another life, he wouldn’t have to lie to you. Telling you that you two would be lovers in every lifetime, every universe, every single time. The Akasha Terminal does not have that sort of information stored away, no canned knowledge that can be bought from any market could answer this question. 
In the end, he’ll stay here by your side until the end of your lifetime, wishing that his could end alongside. A punishment for some sort of mistake he made in this life, now having to live it without you. 
The last few breaths, and your breathing slows down. That’s his sign to bring your hand to his lips, one last kiss to your soft skin before you’re out of his arms. As your breathing comes to a halt, Alhaitham hopes the smile on your face confirms his answer as you move on to your next life. 
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©luminique do not repost or copy ! thank you so much for reading <3
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baeshijima · 4 months
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don't mind me i'm just casually thinking about soulmates-but-not-actually-soulmates au, where you both fall for each other after having not found your respective soulmates for a long period of time and decide that if fate won't do anything, then you will both simply defy fate and learn to love each other.
and you do !! with the more time you spend with one another, navigating that which makes up the entirety of the other, you both start to grow accustomed — attuned, even — to the each other's habits. and slowly, eventually, you begin to think that perhaps fate didn't give you your soulmate, for they are the one in front of you, holding you so close it wouldn't come as a surprise if you meld into one.
if so, then why does your soulmate, whom you believed was nothing but a hoax up until now, decide to show up now of all times? where have they been during the years you spent searching for them? why are they staring at you as if you hung the moon and stars for them as they repeat your name in a breathy, starstruck manner, holding your hands in a shaky grip with the trembles in their voice equally as unstable?
and why... why did fate have to be so cruel to you, for the moment your eyes dart away in avoidance of theirs you find the world goes silent when you see your lover, whom you believed was the one meant to defy destiny with you, standing off to the side and watching your interaction with an unreadable countenance.
oh, fate is a cruel thing.
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silversnowblossom · 1 year
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kavetham soulmate au where you share your soulmate’s pain and that’s how kaveh realizes something is wrong:
kaveh’s just discussing the finishing touches for his project with his client when a starburst of pain explodes behind his eyes mid-sentence. he staggers. the pain ebbs a little, but doesn’t fully fade, a dull throbbing in the back of his head. it’s not his pain, he knows, and that means—it’s alhaitham’s. alhaitham’s hurt, a pain strong enough that it’s carried through the soulmate bond. 
he breaks off the conversation with his client with hasty apologies, promises to finish it later or refund a portion of his money, whatever he wants, that he’s sorry but there’s an emergency, he needs to go now—
it’s not unusual for alhaitham to get himself into fights in his pursuit of his research, but he’s always been good with his blade, strong enough to avoid any serious injury. the most kaveh has ended up with is a smattering of shallow cuts and the faint smudges of bruises from the soulmate connection. nothing like this. 
it has him rushing back to the akademiya because what happened, is alhaitham alright, what’s wrong—?
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thehecklingmouse · 6 months
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au where after the big fight with alhaitham kaveh cuts his soulmate string and tries to move on. he doesn't and it makes living with alhaitham a lot more awkward
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cyeli-no · 9 months
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Fic Idea: Haino Soulmate AU 2 (pt. 1)
—in which there is a red string on everyone's hand that connects them to their soulmate.
Relationships: Al-Haitham & Cyno (romantic), Al-Haitham & Candace & Cyno & Dehya (platonic)
Triggers: Amputation
Linked Posts:
─── ⋅ ⋅ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Cyno wasn't born with a thread to a soulmate. But, when Cyno became possessed by the spirit of Hermanubis, he connected to someone. The purple ribbons wrapped around his right arm pull him towards someone, soulmate is what his thoughts whisper.
Then, he meets Al-Haitham. He sees the purple ribbon wrapping around his ring finger. He wants to confront him right away but can't because the issue around Sumeru's archon and the sages is much more dire and he isn't the type to allow personal problems impede his ability to protect his nation.
He plans to ask after they overthrow the government, but fixing it takes much more energy that he originally though. Right before he leaves for his mandatory paid vacation, which Al-Haitham insists on, he has dinner with him, Candace, and Dehya. During that dinner, the topic of soulmates comes up and Cyno learns that Al-Haitham doesn't have one. The ribbon connects Cyno to Al-Haitham, but is it not reciprocated at all.
It isn't actually true, though. Al-Haitham sees the ribbon whenever Cyno enters the Pactsworn Pathclearer state. It isn't until a bit after the coup that he sees the divine spirit in Cyno and realizes he is the one Al-Haitham is connected to. He had assumed, even before they met, because his reputation precedes him, but he realizes it fully after. The issue is that he doesn't believe the ribbon indicates them being soulmates. It is unheard of to have anything besides a red thread and those usually appear the moment their soulmate is born.
He doesn't tell Cyno he knows. There's no point and it would just interfere with their developing friendship. It's enough that he can see the glowing purple as a guide to where part of his heart is or as a promise that the man he has grown to care about is alive.
It's enough until it isn't anymore.
Al-Haitham is in his office, checking on the purple ribbon that doesn't seem to fade no matter how much time passes. Usually, Cyno doesn't need to use the divine spirit's power for long, especially not for an hour that seemingly stretches endlessly. He is on his feet, declaring he will be taking off early, when everything comes to a stop.
The ribbon goes slack and stop glowing. It flutters slowly to the floor as it begins to dissipate, a connection severed— Al-Haitham is racing out the door to the last place Cyno may be from matra reports. He gathers the last few centimeters of the ribbon in his hands as he goes, unable to let it disappear as he clenches it in trembling hands.
He finds a bedridden Cyno in Aaru Village, alive but not well. He stares in a mix of horror, from the stump of a right arm, and relief, that Cyno is still alive. Candace has to catch him with bloody hands, staining his coat in red when his legs wobble. Dehya doesn't even manage to lift her head to placate his anxieties, hands clenching the only one Cyno has left.
His heart shatters more when Dehya's voice cracks recounting the memory of finding Cyno bleeding out from a sword to his gut, of how he insisted on continuing because of a job he could never turn away from, and then of the way he is shoved to the floor with Dehya much too far to reach him. She watched, trying to push back a man pinning her with his sword, as a blade descended down and tore through skin and cracked through bones. As terrible as the sound it is to hear the blood spill and limb rip off, it was nothing compared to the panicked sobs that left Cyno. He had screamed, a jackal wailing in pain, and he sobbed desperately for Al-Haitham.
"Will he be okay?" Al-Haitham's words wavers in a way that sounds completely unnatural with his voice. When Dehya doesn't answer, the air tenser than it was moments ago, Candace's soft voice raises in an attempt to ease their nerves (or maybe her own). "Our general is a strong man." It isn't much of a reassurance when the man's eyebrows remain knit and his sudden wheezes for air leaves the trio winded. "Physically,"—Dehya's hand reaches up instinctively—"he will probably heal." Her fingers twist around her bare skin, skin paling with how tightly she clenches, "I worry more for his mind and heart. "It is not easy losing a soulmate."
Cyno wakes up in a haze, spilling apologies for failing the Acting Grand Sage. What he is apologizing for is lost on the man, but he tries to reassure him just the same in hopes of not ripping the sutures. At one point, Cyno offers another apology for being the one fated for the man. Not long after, he passes out, exhausted and full of relief just from the sight of Al-Haitham.
It happens a few more times before he finally wakes up with enough of his mind to hold a conversation. At Candace's suggestion, partially because of the assumptions Dehya and Candace made about their relationship, Al-Haitham is left to talk to him. Cyno apologizes for forcing his beliefs of their soulmate status onto the other.
"It's nothing you need to be concerned with. I will work it out myself."
Al-Haitham reveals, uncertain whether it is the right idea, of how he could occasionally see the ribbon. He is forced to leave when Cyno's heart breaks from the realization that even fate couldn't make someone love him.
That isn't true, Al-Haitham tries to explain, but Candace is quick to drag him out when Cyno begins to hyperventilate and Dehya returns to sitting by his side. Candace, just as harsh as the other two can be, is gentle when she settles beside him in his room. "He is experiencing a lot, right now. Give him time and he will hear you out..." The disbelief on his expression is answered by a smile, certainty . "We both know of his kindness, Al-Haitham. Give him time. He is Sumeru's fair judge, after all."
It is a difficult journey of healing, aided by Dehya whose prosthetic arm is evidence of her lost connection to her soulmate. She knows, to an extent, how Cyno feels and tries to help him work through his mental turmoil. Despite Al-Haitham not wanting to be Cyno's soulmate (that isn't true), it is so hard to no longer know where Al-Haitham is or whether he is safe.
Healing journey and their relationship is strained but it does change overtime. Al-Haitham falls in love with Cyno (he was already in the process of that when the arm chopping incident happened). Cyno learns how to accept love that is freely given without requiring a promise of destiny.
They are soulmates, chosen in spite of fate.
"You're my soulmate." The word makes Cyno's shiver, curling closer to his partner to ensure he is not in a cruel dream. The taller man tugs him closer and presses a reassuring kiss against the top of his head, "I love you and I choose you every time and forever."
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alsoyooraiyah · 5 months
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reminding myself that what i think is hot/fun doesn't always line up with the choices dola would make but god it is so fun playing dolls sometimes
#repeating this to myself bc i still think that between the five people i like for dola in genshin i still think that#between all of them she'd choose diluc and diluc would make the choice to do something with his own feelings#(as opposed to kaeya who wouldnt make a move and kaveh + alhaitham just wouldnt be options in dola's consideration.#and dola doesn't spend enough time in sumeru to really have a chance for her feelings to change/grow#childe is off the table bc of headcanon reasons + i also think dola wouldnt ever go for him no matter what her own feelings are)#like. kaeyasach still feels on the table bc um. i have headcanons abt diluc's fate i dont like voicing out here but with where the game#is taking place rn its def a dilusach route..? it's at least the route the feels the most fun to write and most natural for dola#+++++ i truly do love dola and kaeya as friends so tight it feels neither romantic or platonic or familial and is a secret 4th thing.#like its so fun. former childhood crushes on each other that reunite thanks to a tragedy and then they help each other deal with the grief#that theyve both been dealing with. both terribly alone but then fnding that maybe they arent and can rely on each other. idk. it just#feels like either they should be platonic soulmates OR they have the world's slowest burn ever#and it feels really meaningful to me that dola does her best to support him and even look into khaenriah for him as a friend than a partner#+ feels like it'd be more meaningful to kaeya too.#idk im having thoughts shdfjksdf this always happens when i see nice kaeya art and analysis and im second guessing dola's canon
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heyhazelnut101 · 1 year
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Just My Cup Of Tea
Everyone in Teyvat is destined to have a soulmate, and memories of one's soulmate usually carry over from previous lives.
However, every once in a while, one party will remember their soulmate more clearly than most, and the other will have no recollection of their other half.
Alhaitham learns how cruel fate can be.
Hi! I wrote another Cyno × Alhaitham fic, because the brainrot these two have given me is SEVERE.
Coffee Shop AU, Reincarnation AU and Soulmate AU all mashed up into one 11k word fic.
If that's what you're into, please check out my work on AO3!
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kavehater · 1 month
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“You guys are literally soulmates” MY FOOT
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harmonysanreads · 1 year
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Thinking about Yandere!Sumeru Boys and the sweet, lovely bartender who's become the talk of Sumeru recently.
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After receiving the news of the Sage's downfall and Lesser Lord Kusanali's rescue, you, who'd been out venturing Teyvat to learn about its global gastronomy and arts, decide to return to your homeland and help your father's busy Tavern. The knowledge you've gained from your travels prove to be fruitful as Lambad's Tavern reaches a new peak of popularity. Though, not everyone's point of interest is the menu — no no, in fact, many have become frequent patrons simply to get a glimpse of the new face behind the counter.
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You and Kaveh click almost immediately. Your shared views on arts and beauty is one thing checked off, but the way your actually understand him? Unlike most people when they hear his story, you're not quick to put a lable on him ; instead, you make him feel heard and normal for the very first time. Listen patiently and don't throw factual advice on how to fix his life. No wonder he poured out his entire life story to you, all on his first conversation. He's left wondering where you've been all his life as you share a portion of your own struggles, views on life and snippets of your adventures. To this day, Kaveh recalls the conversation along with your benign smile and feels his heart thump as if he's become a teenager again.
Every ensuing visit to the Tavern has his belief strengthen as well : you two must be soulmates. He's even started (half) jokingly calling you one as well, which never seems to move you the way he wants though as, all you do is adorably giggle and ask him to pay for his order. Oh well, he supposes that's an indication that you do not pity him solely because of his financial status. Kaveh's life had gotten a lot better with your presence ; he no longer drinks himself to oblivion, sleeps better than before and doesn't even pay heed to his roommate's sharp comments that'd otherwise end in a massive argument, thoughts preoccupied with what kind of trinket he could bring to impress you. For a brief period, Kaveh had felt like he'd finally found his light, his reason to keep living. He'd only wish he hadn't introduced his friends to you.
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You first ‘officially’ met the dusty-rock-of-a-roommate of Kaveh (his words) when you took the responsibility of dropping him to his place of residence after the architect had passed out from taking a sip of the Sneznayan Fire-Water. You weren't sure what you were expecting from Alhaitham, but a talk over books that spiralled a little too late into the night and ended with him walking you back home certainly wasn't it. You can see where Kaveh came from, The Acting Grand Sage did not have the countenance that invited friendships. You'll have to thank your profound interest in all genres of books and an equal ease to share your opinions to not be at the recipient of that attitude. It takes you a little too much time to notice that since that night, the Scribe has found himself a second home in your radar. You see him at Puspa Cafe, the Grand Bazar, the streets and after a little while, even at your father's Tavern almost frequently. So much so, that calling him something of a friend might not be as far-fetched now.
In Alhaitham's defense, he's simply intrigued, it's not everyday he meets someone who can keep up with him. It took him only a glance at you to realize you're the person who has Kaveh blushing and giggling like a madman at random times. The architect's creepy behavior aside, at least, it seemed as though some of your sense of responsibility had rubbed off on him so, less headache for Alhaitham. You're easy to talk to ; granted, you don't always have agreements but that doesn't pose as an impediment from keeping the conversation flowing. In fact, you treat him no different ; neither his status nor his prolonged disappearances that'd no doubt affect anyone else can change your easygoing persona as he approaches you, the coffee and dishes you make are rather good too and— ah. Alhaitham understands now why Kaveh is so smitten with you.
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Lambad's Tavern is a prominent destination for fans of Genius Invocation TCG, you like the game, too. But because of your duty, you can only resign yourself to watching from the counter as some rejoiced in victory and others had their heads in their hands from loss. It's entertaining to a degree, frustrating to another as you have to remain silent while the players make dumb choices. You digress, whatever they do is none of your business. But if you had to pick one group that produced the most entertaining show out of this game ; it'd be the friends Kaveh brought along with him. Most of the times, they'd just be reduced to Kaveh's ranting pillows and really, only one of them—and by that you mean the General Mahamatra who seemed to truly care for the game. You're curious about him, actually. He seemed so different from the rumours that were floating around. And thanks to Kaveh's impulsive announcement that you'd be dueling Cyno one night, you had the opportunity to satiate that curiousity — and flex a win against the master of TCG altogether.
To say Cyno was flabbergasted would be the understatement of the century. He'd repeatedly demanded for a second match that time (all the while Kaveh looked like he could die of pride) but you'd shut it off with the (not really) threat of charging extra for your lost time. Since then, he'd been hot on your tail, too. Trying to coax you into a second match with every strategy he can think of : bribing, bargaining, cracking awful jokes to befriend you — his hard work paid off, but the sight of a win against you still seemed to be far. At one point, those concerns were lost as you both simply found fun in each other's presence. Cyno, in the meantime, had noticed that your amiable personality was both a blessing and a curse. Do you not see the corrupt glints in their eyes? The wanton touches and disgusting saccharine lacing their words? No can do, they do not deserve your courtesy. Do not blame him for taking matters into his own accounts or show any semblance of concern after the personnel mysteriously disappear the next day ; its just a little favor for his TCG buddy.
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Out of all of them, Tighnari took you the longest to get to know properly. Given his usually passive personality in the presence of others, no wonder he'd strayed a little from your attention. The forest ranger wasn't behind in knowing you, though. In fact, it seemed as though he had been picking up on clues his other friends were missing. Tighnari had been the first to take notice of your ennui, which he had surmised to be a result of all the people you have to deal with everyday. Turns out even you have your moments. One evening as Kaveh, Cyno and Alhaitham were preoccupied with debating over who-knows-what, Tighnari took the opportunity to approach you about it. He couldn't ignore the darkening circles under your eyes or the brightness in your optics dimming any longer — he's glad he did ; in truth, your life had gotten crazier than it was back when you were traveling, you'd confessed. You no longer felt truly...alone, even in moments that you're sure is securely private. Tighnari listened intently, for once the roles being switched. He sent hand-made remedies to help with your stress, frequently wrote to you to check your well being when he couldn't visit personally, anything within his power.
He felt sympathy for your state, such a precious person like you doesn't deserve this, you should be treated better, he could treat you better — now if only you're at arms reach to the forest ranger. Alas, for now he'd have to be content with this development. Tighnari has an inkling about who is, or are, responsible for your building misery. Does he intent to do anything with that knowledge though? Yes, coaxing you to his side, preferably.
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The innocent, nameless wandering boy you'd taken with you on your return to Sumeru, suddenly returned home with a glowing anemo vision in the span of a few hours one fine afternoon. Nothing really seemed out of the ordinary though, he was still as glued to your person (though nowadays he seemed to venture out more than usual), he was still the harmless boy you'd grown accustomed to. So then, why did it feel like something was amiss? Was it how often he'd find himself at the brink of an angry customer's fist? Or was it because that only occurs when you leave the counter to get something and that same customer just so happened to have been pushing you for a date beforehand? Your suspicions always end up fleeting though, you can never even raise an eyebrow at the boy, not when he looks at you with those glossy puppy eyes. In the end, it's always the other man that's handed over to the guards, it's always the others, in general at the face of your displeasure — not Wanderer, never Wanderer. If only you could see the same grin he directs at the retreating men behind your unassuming back.
You never did regret letting him trail behind your person (except maybe the bombarding allegations from your family of him being your significant other, it took one whole week to convince them otherwise, after all.) ; he was sweet and so.. clueless, as if he were but a newborn child. Your heart couldn't resist the poor thing and that's what brought you to this situation. Wanderer revels in the others' jealousy at the sight of you two's closeness (who could guess this same man had tried to take over Sumeru). He can do many of the things your other admirers can only dream of ; lean on your shoulder, fall asleep on your lap, play with your hair as you prepare a drink, whisper things in your ear with a purposefully lowered voice and get away with anything. All is well with the lost boy you'd picked up from the last turn of your travels, it's just that, you can't quite shake off the feeling of a strange familiarity everytime you look at his otherwordly eyes.
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what do you call this? a love hexagon? 🤔
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