#A Book of Luminous Things | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

daosies · 2 months

Text

the only exception

alhaitham doesn't feel particularly attached towards many things.

one thing he does seem to feel very strongly about, however, is you.

alhaitham ♡ gn!reader

warnings: reader is not traveler, lovesick alhaitham

note: i woke up one day and was suddenly feeling romantical for alhaitham...

"you want to know what alhaitham likes?" kaveh asks, disbelieving.

"yeah!" paimon exclaims. "paimon needs all the details. like, what does he do outside of work, since he's so eager to get away?"

kaveh shivers at the thought. "well, he goes to read some books i guess. i don't really know what he does."

"you're his roommate!" paimon yells, upset. "how could you not know?!"

"hey, i have things to do! i'm in high demand, okay?" kaveh retorts, flailing his hands around for emphasis in a futile attempt to defend himself. in a fit of desperation, he stands up, a determined expression on his face as he glances around the cafe.

he sits back down, with a newfound resolve, once he realizes that alhaitham is nowhere to be seen.

"fine, i'll tell you what he does. but you can't tell anyone, okay? he'll get super mad at me. and i'm sick and tired of him when he's mad! especially when it's about—"

kaveh pauses midsentence, his mouth hanging agape as the color drains from his face. his lips begin to tremble a little, his hands becoming clammy as he wipes them against the side of his pants.

"u-uh, well," he trails off, averting his gaze from the traveler who leans slightly over the desk. "s-so, w-what i was saying was..."

"hm," a new voice interjects. lumine glances up, noticing alhaitham, in all of his glory. she scrutinizes him intensely, observing the way he crosses his arms, a scowl forming on his face as he glares at the architect with disdain.

his hair looks neater, she notes. usually, alhaitham's hair is messy—he once told her that he doesn't have the need to maintain it properly.

today, however, pearl strands are tucked neatly around his face, framing his pale skin in a way that resembles a sculpture. today, alhaitham looks otherworldly—not necessarily because of his unusual appearance, but rather, the way he looks over his shoulder, his monotone expression suddenly blossoming with color.

when alhaitham looks at you, it's as if there are stars racing across his eyes. his lily green eyes are fixated on you, reflecting your silhouette in their irises with a certain familiarity, a certain adoration. the frown on his lips begins to give way, revealing a dreamy, almost luminous look.

"[name],"—oh, and when he says your name, his voice drops to a gentle, soothing timbre—"let's go somewhere else."

lumine thinks that alhaitham looks unlike himself. because what she knows of him is a calculating, logical grand sage who would rather forfeit the world than have to work another day in his life. she knows him as someone who cares only for himself, not because he's selfish, or because he's egoistical, but because in this dog-eat-dog world, that's the only way to survive.

but when he looks at you, alhaitham's expression melts. all sense of logic evades him, because despite his existence revolving around rationality and consistency, he looks as if he's overwhelmed by a foreign emotion. a warm emotion. alhaitham, with you, looks as if he's going beyond himself, beyond everything.

(in this dog-eat-dog world, alhaitham thinks that caring for others is futile. he thinks that, in the midst of it all, the only thing he can account for is himself.)

(when he's with you, however, that changes.)

because the way he leans in towards you, and the way he speaks to you—in a soft, tender tone—is above him. suddenly, his limited world expands, and colors begin to glimmer with a revitalized hue. alhaitham's world, which was once walked and occupied only by himself, grows a little. it makes way for two.

his hand rests gently on your shoulder, finding familiarity in the feeling.

lumine knows that something is up, that something in you—or something about you—changes the way he behaves. because the alhaitham she knows would never initiate physical contact with anyone.

but the alhaitham you create, the alhaitham that exists in your mere presence, is someone else. the alhaitham that calls your name speaks to you in a voice that has no resemblance to the blunt tone he usually takes. the alhaitham that looks at you, the alhaitham that perceives you is unlike the one that lumine knows.

because in your presence, she thinks that alhaitham resembles a lover. he emanates you, radiating and glowing and prevailing like a wild light, stretching far across the limitless sky and fragmenting just to catch a wisp of your gaze.

(or a breath, or a fraction of your colossal existence. anything will do.)

"what's wrong with this place, though?" you ask, brushing your hand against his. lumine notices this. she glances at the sage, who doesn't seem to mind the contact. if anything, he leans even more towards you, as if your touch had seized a star.

"yeah, that's right!" paimon interjects. "what's wrong with this place, huh?!"

alhaitham, who doesn't even bother to spare the floating fairy a glance, opts to observe your expression, pausing for but a moment to decide what answer would please you the most.

lumine never thought alhaitham would consider someone's feelings before responding. seeing this, however, she supposes that there's a first for everything.

"nothing," he states firmly.

"all of your friends are here too, alhaitham!" you say, gesturing towards kaveh (who is in the midst of an out-of-body experience) and lumine.

"nice to meet you," lumine introduces herself kindly, "[name], right?"

"yeah!" suddenly, you pull a notebook out from your pocket, ushering it towards the traveler as you offer her a pen.

"can i get your autograph?" you ask, though it seems more like a demand.

"hey, how come you never ask for mine?" kaveh questions, suddenly coming back to life. he's silenced as soon as alhaitham glares at him. when the sage's gaze returns to you, however, that look of momentary fury dissipates; he finds comfort in your existence, his spot in the universe etched perfectly by your side.

"i need autographs that can sell," you reply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"plenty of people would buy my autographs!" kaveh exclaims, hurt. "what do you mean they need to sell, anyway? isn't just having my autograph enough?"

"things without immediate or material value are useless," alhaitham states.

"hah! don't say that when you're so obviously—" kaveh is cut off by alhaitham's death-glare. the architect, resigned to his fate, sits quietly in his seat, his back straightened perfectly as he folds his hands on his lap.

"so obviously...?" paimon echoes, tilting her head. lumine sighs in exasperation while you're cradling the traveler's autograph in your arms, fantasies beginning to materialize all around you.

i could sell this for one million mora. no, two million mora, you think, staring at the flimsy piece of paper. and then i could buy a huge mansion in the middle of the city and—

alhaitham flicks your forehead gently, an unreadable expression painting his features.

"nobody's going to buy that for two million," he remarks. your mouth hangs slightly agape.

"how do you know that?"

he shrugs.

lumine observes the sage under the warm cafe lights. he cradles your image in the center of his eyes, the beholder of what is most beautiful. alhaitham stares at you, taking your figure and slipping it away into his irises, imprinting it into his mind, letting it coexist with him for eternity.

when he stares at you, lumine thinks he's about to melt away into the warmth of the lanterns, the warmth of your existence. when he stares at you—which alhaitham often does—he sheds his tiny world and metamorphosizes into a lover, completely void of all the logic and rationale he lives his life by.

he says things without immediate or material value are useless, lumine thinks, but look at him.

you tuck the traveler's autograph into your pocket, and alhaitham rests his hand on your lower back, as if it were made to be there. when you bid her and kaveh a friendly farewell, alhaitham doesn't even care to spare either of them a glance, his gaze belonging wholly to you.

and when you tell kaveh that you'll get his autograph later, alhaitham scowls. he doesn't say anything to you, but the look he sends towards the architect is enough to suppress any ideas the blonde might be getting.

and when you leave, alhaitham trails after you, yearning. lumine never thought that alhaitham would willingly take his headphones off in public, much less follow after someone with such determination. when you walk, alhaitham is intent on matching your strides, desperate to exist in the same scale as you, the same life as you.

"alhaitham was acting really weird just now..." paimon mumbles, scratching her head. "he had a weird look. like, he wasn't as mad as usual!"

kaveh shivers. "don't say that. if anything, i think he's madder than usual. well, i guess that's what love does to someone."

"what?!" paimon yells.

"ugh, don't make me go in-depth. he's so embarrassing, that guy! how could he act like that and still not confess anything to [name]? also, [name] is way too good for a guy like him. i hope they reject him once he does confess," kaveh rants, waving his hand dismissively.

"alhaitham likes [name]?!" paimon repeats, as if it weren't obvious enough.

"oh, not just like. he loves them. end of story. let's talk about something fun," kaveh replies.

"no, no!" paimon stomps the air. "we need to know more about this now!"

lumine, albeit quiet, nods alongside the floating fairy. kaveh groans.

"you guys wouldn't get it... alhaitham like this isn't anything cool. if anything, he's even worse. to everyone except [name], of course."

"is he going to confess?" paimon asks. "how long has he liked [name]?"

"eventually, maybe. but he's a puny guy and he's afraid of rejection, and he can't tell if [name] likes him back. he's got all those brains for nothing," kaveh says, "and he's liked them for a while. since the akademiya, maybe...?"

"what do you mean maybe?!"

"i told you, i'm in high demand! i have better things to do than to worry about alhaitham's love life!"

"alhaitham's love life?" a bystander suddenly echoes. kaveh stiffens up immediately, his vermilion eyes growing wide with fear and shock.

"oh, yeah," lumine quickly interjects, "his love life with the books."

"haha, of course!" the bystander exclaims, believing the traveler without a second thought. "how is it possible for the acting grand sage to be any other way? he is wedded to those books, indeed!"

kaveh, lumine, and paimon all exchange knowing glances.

clearly they haven't seen alhaitham with you yet.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x y/n #al haitham #al haitham x reader

754 notes · View notes

flawseer · 1 month

Text

3000 AS character drawings

(Fathom, Indigo, Pearl, Albatross)

I appear to have developed an addiction to drawing dragons. There is no known treatment, so I have been advised to just ride it out and see where it goes. Here are some ancient Seawings:

Prince Fathom

Fathom is said to look remarkably similar to his descendant Turtle, or at least Darkstalker seems to think so. He could be an unreliable narrator who assumes all green Seawing lads look the same though, who knows.

When I picture Fathom, I imagine him as looking visibly marred by what he experienced. He is careworn and looks tired most of the time because, at night, spiraling thoughts and stress dreams are interfering with his sleep. His general physique is a bit oddly proportioned, with some areas of his body (face and extremities) looking more gaunt than others, indicating that he has rapidly lost weight.

Hoping he was able to return to some form of normalcy and make a recovery after the conclusion of the Darkstalker book.

Indigo

Fathom's childhood friend, bodyguard, and numerous other things. I have no idea what the plans of the graphic novel adaptations are with regards to the Darkstalker book, so I don't know if she will get an actual depiction any time soon.

I gave her a forward-swept, somewhat wild-looking head fin because I thought that was fitting for her character. It contrasts with the more put-together, rounder, or rigid appearances of the royals she is surrounded by.

Princess Pearl

Fathom's uptight sister and future Queen of the Seawings. As far as I know, the books never go into detail with regards to her color scheme. I imagine that, in terms of looks, she takes a lot after her grandfather, resulting in a light blue coloration. Some of these traits would then later be passed down the royal Seawing line until they resurface in her descendant Anemone.

I do sometimes think about what happened after the Darkstalker book. Does she believe her brother is dead? Or is it assumed he evacuated with the rest of the Nightwings? Did Fathom ever try to reconnect with her in later years?

Prince Albatross

Fathom and Pearl's grandfather and person of historical infamy. The graphic novels draw him very blue, but he is described in text as unnaturally pale, almost white. Really minor detail in his luminous patches: I drew them that way to suggest he passed his spherical markings on to Pearl (which she then got her name from) and the crescent markings were inherited by Fathom.

Also, his ear is frayed and worn. I imagine he developed a nervous tick where he squeezes and yanks his ear whenever he is upset due to his sister's constant abuse.

------------------------------------------------

Errata:

I initially wrote that Anemone is Pearl's ancestor. This was a nonsensical lapse of thought, as, barring questionable time travel plots, she is obviously her descendant. Corrected.

#wings of fire #wof #dragon #digital art #wof art #flawseer art #wof seawing #wof fathom #wof indigo #wof pearl #wof albatross #wof headcanon

539 notes · View notes

crowclubkaz · 3 months

Text

💚👁️🕸️ In honour of The Magnus Protocol releasing today, here are some book recommendations based on The Magnus Archives Fears!! 🕸️👁️💚

Detailed list of books below the cut!

For more book recommendations, especially queer horror, check out my Bookstagram @hauntedstacks

The Buried ⚰️ - Into the Sublime by Kate A. Boorman - Stuck by Ben Young - The Luminous Dead by Caitlin Starling - The Deep by Nick Cutter

The Corruption 🦠 - What Moves the Dead by T. Kingfisher - Green Fuse Burning by Tiffany Morris - The Honeys by Ryan La Sala - She Is A Haunting by Trang Thanh Tran

The Dark 🌑 - Dead Silence by S.A. Barnes - Nightfall by Jake Halpern & Peter Kujawinski - No Power by Todd Kirby - The 5th Wave by Rick Yancey

The Desolation 🔥 - Firestarter by Stephen King - Burner by Robert Ford - Those Who Wish Me Dead by Michael Koryta - Burn the House Down by Kenna Jenkins

The End 💀 - Funeral Girl by Emma K. Ohland - Pet Sematary by Stephen King - Under the Whispering Door by TJ Klune - This Thing Between Us by Gus Moreno

The Extinction 🦴 - Lost Signals by Max Booth III - Bride of the Tornado by James Kennedy - No Safety in Numbers by Dayna Lorentz - The Rules of the Road by C.B. Jones

The Eye 👁️ - Video Palace by Maynard Wills - Episode Thirteen by Craig DiLouie - A History of Fear by Luke Dumas - The Watchers by A.M. Shine

The Flesh 🦷 - You’ve Lost A Lot of Blood by Eric LaRocca - Carnivore by Justin Boote - A Certain Hunger by Chelsea G. Summers - Tender is the Flesh by Agustina Bazterrica

The Hunt 🏹 - Hunt by Alexandra Nisneru - The Woods Are Always Watching by Stephanie Perkins - Survive the Night by Danielle Vega - The Hunger by Alma Katsu

The Lonely ☁️ - Red River Seven by A.J. Ryan - Solitude by Michael Penning - Dark Matter by Michelle Paver - We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson

The Slaughter 🥩 - Manhunt by Gretchen Felker-Martin - Your Shadow Half Remains by Sunny Moraine - American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis - The Summer I Died by Ryan C. Thomas

The Spiral 🌀 - That Darkened Doorstep by Catherine Jordan - Mind the Mirrors by Amanda Leanne - Grey Noise by Marcus Hawke - Last to Leave the Room by Caitlin Starling

The Stranger🕴️ - It Looks Like Us by Alison Ames - My Best Friend’s Exorcism by Grady Hendrix - The Deep by Alma Katsu - The Outside by Stephen King

The Vast 🪂 - From Below by Darcy Coates - Into the Drowning Deep by Mira Grant - Floating Staircase by Ronald Mafi - Nightmare Sky by Red Lagoe

The Web 🕸️ - The Taking of Jake Livingston - The Fervor by Alma Katsu - The Book of Accidents by Chuck Wendig - Come Closer by Sarah Gran

If You Like The Magnus Archives 💚 - Thirteen Stories by Jonathan Sims - Family Business by Jonathan Sims - Gas Station by Jack Townsend - Horrorstör by Grady Hendrix

#the magnus archives #the magnus protocol #tma #tmp #Jonathan sims #rusty quill #martin blackwood #jonmartin #booklr #bookstagram #books #horror books #queer books #horror book recs #book recs #mine

722 notes · View notes

abyssruler · 1 year

Text

flowers and unplanned proposals

xiao x gn!reader

if someone gifts an adeptus with flowers, it means you are proposing to them, and if they take it, it means they accept the proposal. unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on who you ask), you weren’t aware of such a custom. or — xiao thinks you’re married, but you just thought flowers would look nice on him.

fluff. comedy-ish. accidental malewife acquisition. featuring reader being clueless, xiao being hopeless, and lumine and hu tao being your biggest supporters

It started with a walk on the road as an acquaintance accompanied you.

There’d been a wild flower by the side, with white and lilac petals that you’d thought, rather presumptuously, would suit the dour faced adeptus beside you. So, you plucked it and impulsively handed it to him, a smile on your face and a shocked one on his.

His fingers closed around the flower’s stem, the stern lines of his face softening as he gazed at the tiny petals that glittered in the sun.

You’ve never been rid of him since.

Your friend Xiao could be described as protective at best and possessive at worst. It’s not a bad thing, of course! Caring for a friend is always a good thing in your books, but sometimes, you think he takes the word ‘caring’ to an almost extreme degree.

Take, for instance, now.

“Xiao?”

He hums from his spot on the sill of your window, not even sitting, no, he’s crouched on it, balanced on the thin ledge at the tips of his toes and keeping his eyes (which oddly glowed like a cat’s) peeled for any danger. Like this, he almost looks like a bird perched on a branch.

You let out an awkward laugh. “You know, I appreciate you doing this for me, keeping me safe and all, but I think I can spend the night on my own safely.”

His head whips to you so fast you almost feared he’d get neck cramps, an expression of surprise and… hurt? on his face.

“You… don’t want me here?”

You’ve never backtracked so fast in your life. “No! I mean, yes—but not in the way you’re thinking!”

He looks forlorn now, stepping down the windowsill and shoulders hunched in a similar manner to that of a cat pulling its ears down its head. “Is this what the Traveler meant by sleeping on the couch?”

You’re not sure what to do, but it seems like he wants to sleep on the couch? Puzzled, you smile encouragingly even though you don’t quite understand his words. “Er, if you want to sleep on the couch, you’re welcome to do so?”

His face falls.

✧

“And, I don’t know, he just became all—sad? Just, I felt so bad for basically kicking him out of my room, and now that I’m thinking more on it, I should’ve just offered to let him sleep beside me. Like a, um, a sleepover!”

There’s a distinctly bashful look on your face and, oh god, you’re drawing little circles on the table with your finger, an almost dreamy glint in your eyes.

Sweet Jesus that doesn’t exist in this world, Lumine is going to barf.

She slams her hands on the table, startling you in the process as she leans down and says with an exasperated face, “Have you considered that maybe you actually like him and he—”

“What?!” you squawk, mouth open in disbelief and a mortified look contorting your features. “That’s—don’t say such things, Lumi!”

She drops back down her chair, leveling you with a look that basically said, are you for real right now?

“It’s written all over your face—”

You quickly slap both hands on your cheeks, turning your head away. “I don’t like him! How could I ever… he’s an adeptus and I…”

“And you made an adeptus sleep on your couch,” Lumine deadpans.

She can feel the way your face burned at the reminder. You slump over the table, burying your head in your arms and bemoaning your decision. “I didn’t mean to disrespect him…”

“Oh, I’m sure disrespect was the farthest thing you did to him,” she mutters beneath her breath. Broke his heart, shattered his hopes and dreams, devastated him—Lumine can name a few more.

But then, you suddenly straighten up, determination lining your face. There’s a look in your eyes that tells Lumine she should probably stop you from doing whatever idiotic thing—however in good faith it might be—that you’re about to do.

“I should give him some flowers as an apology. He always gets so… not exactly happy but—warm, that’s it. He feels warmer whenever I give him flowers.” You smile, reminiscing on whatever moments you had with him. You stand up, looking down at the empty plates all over the table before looking at her apologetically. “I’m sorry, could you foot the bill this time?”

Lumine sighs. She’s still got money from the last commission Ningguang made her do, so she supposes she can do it. Just this once. “Fine, but you’re paying for our next outing!”

You beam, thanking her before running to the nearest flower shop or wherever it is you’re going to be getting those flowers from.

“Make sure to let him sleep on your bed next time!” Lumine yells to your retreating back, ignoring the strange, almost scandalized, looks from nearby patrons.

✧

You find him at your house, completely ignoring how strange it is that a friend has complete access to your house including a spare key and extra clothes on the closet just for him. It’s simply become the norm, is all. And he’s a good—you don’t quite know what to call him, roommate? you’ll settle for friend—friend, helping you with the chores and often accompanying you to the market when you need new groceries—but only during the early mornings, of course. You know how much he dislikes crowds.

“I’m home!”

The response comes immediate and, judging by the direction, it came from the kitchen, “Welcome home.”

The large bouquet of glaze lilies interspersed with roses and qingxin flowers is heavy on your arms as you walked to the kitchen. Xiao is there, a broom in hand which he sets aside once he sees you and what you’re carrying.

“Here!” You grin, extending the bouquet forward and into his arms.

He accepts it, a flush to his cheeks and looking distinctly flustered by the gift. “I… thank you.”

“It’s an apology.”

His eyes snap to yours, iridescent gold piercing through you. There’s something almost vulnerable in the way he’s gazing at you, hands tightening around the flowers.

You fiddle with your fingers. “Well, I wanted to say sorry for making you sleep on the couch. If you’d like, you can sleep beside me tonight.”

Something in him relaxes, tension bleeding out of his posture as he smiles, small and near unnoticeable to anyone who didn’t know him so well.

For some reason, the sight of it makes your heart leap.

Lumine’s words repeat in your mind.

Have you considered that maybe you actually like him?

No, you think with dread, absolutely not.

✧

“Yes,” Hu Tao crows in delight, “You’re absolutely in love!”

“See, that’s what I tried to say yesterday, but nooo. Oh, Lumi, Xiao is just a friend,” Lumine grouches, imitating your voice and utterly failing because while she may be strong enough to fight monsters and gods, that girl has absolutely no talent when it comes to mimicking.

Your palms cover your face that feels warm to touch. “I do not sound like that. And it’s true, we really are just friends!”

“Of course, because friends do things like living together and sleeping on the same bed and holding hands—” You open your mouth to protest, but Hu Tao doesn’t let you interrupt, “—don’t deny it! I saw you last week near Liuli Pavilion, and he was holding your hand and carrying a bag of food!”

“He’s just really helpful! He’s an adeptus,” you argue, though it sounds weak even to your own ears.

“And do all adepti live with a human, do they sleep with them—”

“You make it sound so lewd, Lumi!”

“—do they hold their hands and go grocery shopping at five in the morning with them?” Lumine pierces you with those honey gold eyes of hers. “Did you know I barely have anything to do in the Adventurer’s Guild here in Liyue besides babysitting and errands because someone—namely, an adeptus who coincidentally goes by the name Xiao—keeps killing all the monsters within the area?”

Hu Tao cackles. “He always asks about you whenever I encounter him at Wuwang Hill.”

You level her with an incredulous look. “What were you even doing there?”

“Hiding bodies, duh!” At your horrified look, she winks. “Just kidding!”

You shake off Hu Tao’s laughter and pinch your lips together. “Look, it’s—we’re just friends. That’s all there is to it.”

Lumine huffs, “Yeah, sure, because friends like you two give each other flowers everyday. How does your house still have space in it for more?”

You would’ve refuted her words, would’ve argued that no, you don’t give each other flowers everyday, just on a regular basis—but Hu Tao’s sudden silence concerned you more than what Lumine said. The funeral director turns her head to you with wide eyes.

“You gave him flowers?” she asks, an odd tone to her voice.

Your brows furrow at her uncharacteristic seriousness. “Um, yes? I do it all the time.”

She leapt forward, grabbing your shoulders and lips twitching into something you could almost call glee. “And he accepted it?”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

Hu Tao lets go of your shoulders to tilt her head back and laugh. Not the nice little giggles she does after a successful prank, no, this is more manic. The kind that wouldn’t make you think, oh how sweet, but instead makes you think, oh this girl belongs in a facility.

Even Lumine seems confused by her reaction, joining you in watching her like she’s just grown two heads. Hu Tao takes one look at both of your expressions and dissolves into another fit of laughter.

��Oh, dear. And you don’t even know what it means!” she says in between laughs.

Lumine, having had enough of being in the dark, grabs Hu Tao’s face with both hands and forces her to look at her in the eye. “What does it mean?”

Hu Tao grins, gaze darting to you. “When you give an adeptus flowers, it means you’re proposing to them.”

You and Lumine gape, understanding dawning on your heads, though there’s horror on your part at what it could mean.

But Hu Tao doesn’t stop there, “And if they take it…”

You await her next words with bated breath, Lumine seemingly on the edge of her seat as well.

“…It means they accept your proposal.”

Lumine’s screech of delight at this newfound information drowns out the metaphorical sound of your world falling apart and being built anew.

✧

You come home in a daze, eyes blankly staring ahead and unaware of your surroundings until you blink, and suddenly, you’re sitting at the dining table, a plate of steaming shrimp balls being placed in front of you.

Xiao crouches by your chair, examining your face with worried eyes. “Are you well?”

Your throat shrivels up. All the words and arguments you’d been planning to say earlier dying on your tongue. So, instead, you nod. He doesn’t outwardly look relieved, but the softness in his touch belies his care as he places a single stemmed qingxin flower on your palm.

It’s still fresh, you notice, dew gathering on the petals and the scent still present.

Xiao sits on the chair opposite yours, looking at anything and anywhere but your eyes. “I plucked it from the highest mountains of Jueyun Karst, blessed by Cloud Retainer and said to ward away unwanted dreams.”

You stare down at it, at the white petals that feel soft against the pads of your fingers, heart beating out of your chest and hands clammy and breaths labored, a pleasant twist to your gut as you realized that he’d gone out of his way to climb a mountain and have it blessed by an adeptus just to give it to you. There’s being friends, handing each other flowers they saw on the road or bought at a shop, and then, there’s this.

Your mouth feels dry, your chest feels full, and there’s something on the tip of your tongue begging to be let out.

“Xiao,” you start, finally gaining the courage to look up and meet his eyes. “What are we?”

His lips part, eyes widening the slightest amount that tells you he’s unsure what brought this question on and how to answer it.

You shake your head. “Never mind. Just tell me this—are we… engaged?”

At this, Xiao seems to relax. “No.”

You barely have the chance to feel a mix of relief and disappointment, though why you’d feel disappointment at having proof that you and Xiao really are just friends—

He smiles, a small one but no less brighter for it. “We are married, aren’t we?”

And oh.

Oh.

It’s not until now, with the confirmation of everything you dreaded (everything you’d hoped and wanted and yearned for desperately) that you realize how much you’ve longed for something more with him—how much you’ve longed for him.

“Xiao,” you say, eyes crinkling at the corners and cheeks aching with the intensity of your smile, “I love you.”

He startles, blinking up at you with wide eyes, red creeping up his cheeks, but before he can say anything you know he’s not quite prepared to say yet, you continue, still a little indignant at discovering you’d been married without a clue.

“But I demand a proper wedding ceremony!”

word count: 2.2k

edit: the semi part 2 y’all have been asking for

#if you’ve read my other xiao fic ‘the adepti’s guide’ i want u to know that this is a look into reader hu tao and lumi dynamic in the future #but more chaotic and insane #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #xiao x reader #genshin xiao x reader #gn reader

6K notes · View notes

soracities · 1 year

Note

what are your suggestions for starter poetry for people who dont have strong reading/analysis backgrounds

I've answered this a few times so I'm going to compile and expand them all into one post here.

I think if you haven't read much poetry before or aren't sure of your own tastes yet, then poetry anthologies are a great place to start: many of them will have a unifying theme so you can hone in based on a subject that interests you, or pick your way through something more general. I haven't read all of the ones below, but I have read most of them; the rest I came across in my own readings and added to my list either because I like the concept or am familiar with the editor(s) / their work:

Staying Alive: Real Poems for Unreal Times (ed. Nick Astley) & Being Alive: The Sequel to Staying Alive (there's two more books in this series, but I'm recommending these two just because it's where I started)

The Rattlebag (ed. Seamus Heaney and Ted Hughes)

The Ecco Anthology of International Poetry (ed. Ilya Kaminsky & Susan Harris)

The Essential Haiku, Versions of Basho, Buson and Issa (ed. Robert Hass)

A Book of Luminous Things (ed. Czesław Miłosz )

Now and Then: The Poet's Choice Columns by Robert Hass (this may be a good place to start if you're also looking for commentary on the poems themselves)

Poetry Unbound: 50 Poems to Open Your World(ed. Pádraig Ó'Tuama)

African American Poetry: 250 Years of Struggle and Song (ed. Kevin Young)

The Art of Losing: Poems of Grief and Healing (ed. Kevin Young)

Lifelines: Letters from Famous People about their Favourite Poems

The following lists are authors I love in one regard or another and is a small mix of different styles / time periods which I think are still fairly accessible regardless of what your reading background is! It's be no means exhaustice but hopefully it gives you even just a small glimpse of the range that's available so you can branch off and explore for yourself if any particular work speaks to you.

But in any case, for individual collections, I would try:

anything by Sara Teasdale

Devotions / Wild Geese / Felicity by Mary Oliver

Selected Poems and Prose by Christina Rossetti

Collected Poems by Langston Hughes

Where the Sidewalk Endsby Shel Silverstein

Morning Haiku by Sonia Sanchez

Revolutionary Letters, Diane di Prima

Concerning the Book That Is the Body of the Beloved by Gregory Orr

Rose: Poems by Li-Young Lee

A Red Cherry on a White-Tiled Floor / Barefoot Souls by Maram al-Masri

Deaf Republic by Ilya Kaminsky

Tell Me: Poems / What is This Thing Called Love? by Kim Addonizio

The Trouble with Poetry by Billy Collins (Billy Collins is THE go-to for accessible / beginner poetry in my view so I think any of his collections would probably do)

Crush by Richard Siken

Rapture / The World's Wife by Carol Ann Duffy

The War Works Hard by Dunya Mikhail

Selected Poems by Walt Whitman

View with a Grain of Sand by Wislawa Szymborska

Collected Poems by Vasko Popa

Under Milkwood by Dylan Thomas (this is a play, but Thomas is a poet and the language & structure is definitely poetic to me)

Bright Dead Things: Poems by Ada Limón

Teaching My Mother How to Give Birth by Warsan Shire,

Nostalgia, My Enemy: Selected Poems by Saadi Youssef

As for individual poems:

“Wild Geese” by Mary Oliver

[Dear The Vatican] erasure poem by Pádraig Ó'Tuama // "The Pedagogy of Conflict"

"Good Bones" by Maggie Smith

"The Author Writes the First Draft of His Weddings Vows (An erasure of Virginia Woolf's suicide letter to her husband, Leonard)" by Hanif Abdurraqib

"I Can Tell You a Story" by Chuck Carlise

"The Sciences Sing a Lullabye" by Albert Goldbarth

"One Last Poem for Richard" by Sandra Cisneros

"We Lived Happily During the War" by Ilya Kaminsky

“I’m Explaining a Few Things”by Pablo Neruda

"Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening" //"Nothing Gold Can Stay"//"Out, Out--" by Robert Frost

"Tablets: I // II // III"by Dunya Mikhail

"What Were They Like?" by Denise Levertov

"Those Winter Sundays" by Robert Hayden,

"The Patience of Ordinary Things" by Pat Schneider

“I, too” // "The Negro Speaks of Rivers” // "Harlem” // “Theme for English B” by Langston Hughes

“The Mower” // "The Trees" // "High Windows" by Philip Larkin

“The Leash” // “Love Poem with Apologies for My Appearance” // "Downhearted" by Ada Limón

“The Flea” by John Donne

"The Last Rose of Summer" by Thomas Moore

"Beauty" // "Please don't" // "How it Adds Up" by Tony Hoagland

“My Friend Yeshi” by Alice Walker

"De Humanis Corporis Fabrica"byJohn Burnside

“What Do Women Want?” // “For Desire” // "Stolen Moments" // "The Numbers" by Kim Addonizio

“Hummingbird” // "For Tess" by Raymond Carver

"The Two-Headed Calf" by Laura Gilpin

“Bleecker Street, Summer” by Derek Walcott

“Dirge Without Music” // "What Lips My Lips Have Kissed" by Edna St. Vincent Millay

“Digging” // “Mid-Term Break” // “The Rain Stick” // "Blackberry Picking" // "Twice Shy" by Seamus Heaney

“Dulce Et Decorum Est”by Wilfred Owen

“Notes from a Nonexistent Himalayan Expedition”by Wislawa Szymborska

"Hour" //"Medusa" byCarol Ann Duffy

“The More Loving One” // “Musée des Beaux Arts” by W.H. Auden

“Small Kindnesses” // "Feeding the Worms" by Danusha Laméris

"Down by the Salley Gardens” // “The Stolen Child” by W.B. Yeats

"The Thing Is" by Ellen Bass

"The Last Love Letter from an Entymologist" by Jared Singer

"[i like my body when it is with your]" by e.e. cummings

"Try to Praise the Mutilated World" by Adam Zagajewski

"The Cinnamon Peeler" by Michael Ondaatje

"Last Night I Dreamed I Made Myself" by Paige Lewis

"A Dream Within a Dream" // "The Raven" by Edgar Allan Poe (highly recommend reading the last one out loud or listening to it recited)

"Ars Poetica?" // "Encounter" // "A Song on the End of the World"by Czeslaw Milosz

"Wandering Around an Albequerque Airport Terminal” // "Two Countries” // "Kindness” by Naoimi Shihab Nye

"Slow Dance” by Matthew Dickman

"The Archipelago of Kisses" // "The Quiet World" by Jeffrey McDaniel

"Mimesis" by Fady Joudah

"The Great Fires" // "The Forgotten Dialect of the Heart" // "Failing and Flying" by Jack Gilbert

"The Mermaid" // "Virtuosi" by Lisel Mueller

"Macrophobia (Fear of Waiting)" by Jamaal May

"Someday I'll Love Ocean Vuong" by Ocean Vuong

"Still I Rise" by Maya Angelou

I would also recommend spending some times with essays, interviews, or other non-fiction, creative or otherwise (especially by other poets) if you want to broaden and improve how you read poetry; they can help give you a wider idea of the landscape behind and beyond the actual poems themselves, or even just let you acquaint yourself with how particular writers see and describe things in the world around them. The following are some of my favourites:

Upstream: Essays by Mary Oliver

"Theory and Play of the Duende" by Federico García Lorca

"The White Bird" and "Some Notes on Song" by John Berger

In That Great River: A Notebook by Anna Kamienska

A Little Devil in America: Notes in Praise of Black Performance by Hanif Abdurraqib

The Book of Delights by Ross Gay

"Of Strangeness That Wakes Us" and "Still Dancing: An Interview with Ilya Kaminsky" by Ilya Kaminsky

"The Sentence is a Lonely Place" by Garielle Lutz

Still Life with Oysters and Lemon by Mark Doty

Paris, When It's Naked by Etel Adnan

#ask #anonymous #beginner guides

2K notes · View notes

saltwaterandstars · 29 days

Text

JOMP BPC - 21st March - Favourite Title

My favourite title (and favourite book) changes all the time, but right now my favourite title is A Book of Luminous Things. It's a really nice poetry collection, too.

#jompbpc #justonemorepage #books #reading #poetry #poems #czeslaw milosz #a book of luminous things

4 notes · View notes

hotvintagepoll · 24 days

Text

Propaganda

Jeanette MacDonald (The Merry Widow, Monte Carlo)— vivacious and luminous, jeanette macdonald was known for her beautiful operatic soprano voice. she appeared in a series of witty and sparkling musical comedies directed by ernst lubitsch in the early 1930s, usually opposite maurice chevalier. in the late 30s and 40s she was often paired with operatic baritone nelson eddy.

Katharine Hepburn (Bringing Up Baby, The Philadelphia Story, The African Queen)—This woman. I have been obsessed with her for years. I know the urban legend is a popular one at this point of her walking around set in her underwear when her pants were stolen and she was left with only a skirt, but the pants thing is honestly enough for her to be the hottest in the room in my book. She refused to wear anything else at a time when the public in general and especially the studios did not like that. She was independent, stubborn, and so so very capable. Competency kink anyone? Also, if you want one final way that Katharine's entire life was saying "fuck you" to the establishment, it started young! Her mother took her to suffrage events, and she never got rid of that attitude of justice. I feel like I have barely scratched the surface of all the ways she was such a badass that I'm turning into a rambling mess instead.

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Jeanette Macdonald:

youtube

Gifset: https://www.tumblr.com/mydailyvintagephotos/687386480054812672/remembering-jeanette-macdonald-on-her-birthday

Gifset 2: https://www.tumblr.com/marypickfords/186755987894/jeanette-macdonald-in-one-hour-with-you-ernst

youtube

Katharine Hepburn propaganda:

I'm sure one million people will submit her as an iconic Hollywood star but that iconicness might lead people to forget just how insanely hot she was like she had it ALL she was skilled she was funny she was smart she was beautiful AND she was likely bisexual

The single word I would use to explain Katherine Hepburn's appeal is *range*. In her acting career, that meant covering all the ground between lush period dramas and the comedies she did with Carey Grant and Spencer Tracey. In terms of hotness, it meant an uncanny ability to bring anything from a Dietrich-esque androgyny to some of the best Classic Hollywood Glamour you will ever see.

Katharine hep was so cool. The VIBES, the INDEPENDENCE,,, living life on her own terms.

she just had this.... bearing to her, this power. she could be funny, even silly (like in bringing up baby) but also so regal and elegant. she was nobody's fool and dear GOD that's so hot

Fancam link

She’s not only stunningly gorgeous (those eyes that pierce your soul! a jawline you could cut glass with!) but her delivery and physical presence in roles gives off confidence and authority in such a sexy way (truly the biggest dick energy of Old Hollywood). Her fiery energy in The Philadelphia Story? Unmatched.

God she's. She's so hot y'all. She has the range!!!!! Funny and dramatic and lovely

She IS the transatlantic accent. Classically gorgeous and such a strong personality.

She's literally one of the funniest women to ever live! She goes shot for shot with Cary Grant in Philadelphia Story and we damn well love her for it! She's the most annoying creature to ever live in Bringing Up Baby but she's so insane and funny that we simply cannot help but fall in love with her (and root for her to give Grant an aneurysm!)

i know she's accounted for but i really want to be sure someone has submitted the scene in bringing up baby where she's pretending to be a gangster

youtube

She simply stuns onscreen; you cannot do anything but be captivated by her presence. Also a non-gender-conforming icon and mild tumblr celebrity by virtue of that one picture from The Warrior's Husband (stage play).

Katharine Hepburn was out here casually changing the lives of young butch lesbians with her gender swag! She wore pants even when people said she shouldn’t, she refused to marry or have kids, and she wore menswear in at LEAST one movie!

Someone's got to mention it, but she's won the most Oscars out of any performer and is largely considered one of the greatest actresses ever. She's got an incredible voice, an incredible presence, and she absolutely steals every scene she's in. She was private person and deemed standoffish and unapproachable, but she was also profoundly concerned for people's rights and was an outspoken supporter of abortion access. Finally, the Katharine Hepburn slacks look is just iconic. I mean look at her.

If I start thinking about her face for too long I will cry she is so so hot. Katherine is so charismatic and charming in everything she appears in - watch her adopt a leopard and fall in love with her. Also she has the biggest dick energy ever (she and her pal Lauren Bacall share that accolade). Also had an incredibly long and varied career from screw ball comedies to serious dramas - she’s a queen of the screen and I adore her.

(I hope someone else submits real propaganda but just in case they don't:) Cries. Screams. Wails. The woman who singlehandedly made me realize I was bi. A real "do i want to look like her. be her. or be with her.' crisis, where the answer was all three. Holy shit please all three.

#katharine hepburn #jeanette macdonald #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 2

198 notes · View notes

cno-inbminor · 1 year

Text

repertum

plot: no matter how much you want alhaitham, you don’t think you can ever have him. he may or may not try to prove otherwise // ft. lumine and nahida

warnings: afab!reader, 3.4 spoilers, smut but reader and alhaitham get blue balled, angst, fluff and comfort later. probably some incorrect game lore and timing/mechanics.

a/n: :)))))

EDIT: Part 2 (FINAL) | AO3 Link

“I don’t–” You rush out before your breath hitches. “-- think this is a good idea, ah–”

Alhaitham keeps you pinned to the wall of your apartment, pelvis undulating against yours in an erratic beat. He drinks in every gasp that leaves your pretty little mouth, the same lips that have haunted his passing thoughts for the past month. His fingers dig into your waist and he leaves subcutaneous blooming sore spots on your shoulder and collarbone, relishing in your hisses of pain and pleasure, if the grip you have around his neck is any indicator.

Your words send a spike of adrenaline – he vehemently denies the possibility it may be fear instead – through his veins, to do anything to keep you right where he wants you, and he gives into the primal urge to dig his teeth into the very shoulder he’s been nibbling and sucking onto for the last ten minutes. The resulting yelp from you keeps him sated, and he places a soft kiss where he’d bitten you; a stark contrast.

Alhaitham lifts his head to look into your eyes, pupils swallowing over your irises and your eyelids half-open. He takes pride in having been able to push you towards such a state of inhibitions. “And what would make you think such a thing?” His lips ask against yours, tone dark with an alarming amount of clarity that you find absolutely unfair and unjust.

Despite his protests, there are several reasons why this isn’t a good idea. To be a scholar and also involved with the Akademiya’s former scribe? You’re practically begging to be academically slaughtered by the masses, as everyone knows Alhaitham has the ears of the General Mahamatra and, at times, Lord Kusanali herself. It goes both ways – having always been regarded as the level-headed, purely rational individual, most would agree that his current actions are the complete opposite. Those traits themselves are a recipe for disaster – sure, you could be witty and hold your own, but it was clear to you that you could not give him what he needs, he neither for you.

The sexual tension between you two is palpable. You briefly remember the day you first exchanged words with the man right before his new promotion. Both of you had reached for the same textbook one early, early morning, and being that it was the only copy in the entire library, you were determined to get your hands on it.

“I believe my hand was here first,” you said in a matter-of-fact tone. Part of you was screaming at yourself for even thinking about going against Alhaitham in any way, but this research paper is due next week and you will not let anyone hinder your progress. “I can give it to you when I’m done with it.”

Annoyance with a hint of amusement had crossed his features as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, the action drawing your gaze. The man had always been a great distance from you, but now seeing him up close, you can understand why some of the other scholars made it a point to mention just how attractive this man was. The brains, brawn, and looks all in a single individual? The archons were quite unfair, if you had anything to say about it.

“I believe the scholars understand they should not hinder any work of mine. It would be best for me to take it, and I will return it once I no longer need it.”

You wanted to wipe the smugness of his face. With a kiss or with a book thrown at him, you don’t care to differentiate – but the confidence he exuded was starting to irritate you, and you ignore the beginnings of an unwanted heat swirling in your core. “Well if the Scribe would so kindly lend it to me, I only need it for the next 36 hours and it will be all yours afterward. Surely your work can wait for that long?”

He took a step towards you to level with your impertinent gaze. Part of you thought you had had the higher ground, granted you were standing on a step ladder so you could reach the book, but you then saw that even with the extra centimeters, you were simply at about the same height as the man. Again, unfair.

“What is your name?” He interrogated.

“What is it to you?” You snapped back. If he really wanted to, he could demand to see your student identification credentials. But part of him wanted to hold back, to watch you bend to his will.

“I may consider granting you your wish if I can learn of your identity.”

The look of surprise on your face had been the beginning of his downfall. Normally the other scholars would have cowered beneath his presence by now. Yet the little spurts of fight from you had elicited some excitement from within, a feeling he hadn’t felt in quite a bit of time. Such emotions were for the weak for they clouded one’s judgment and logic.

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I will take this and, once again, will return it when I am done with it.”

He outstretched his hand to lay his claim on the book’s spine, fingers pressing gently against yours that were still adamant in your pursuit. Both of you made it a point to ignore how the touch made goosebumps form on your arm, thankfully hidden underneath your clothes. The Akademiya’s Scribe knowing you by name never boded well, but it was 2AM and you were perhaps too desperate.

In a state of unfounded confidence and irrationality, your fingers moved to intertwine with his. Watching his jawline slack the slightest bit fueled you, and you dragged your hands off the shelf and pressed them against his chest. With it, you leaned into the bounds of his personal space, using everything you had left in you to keep his eyes on you. Perhaps his pupils had become dilated, you can’t remember at this point, but it was enough distraction for you to use your other hand to snatch the book from its confines between other hardcovers. Once acquired, you disentangled from his grasp and took hurried steps off the step-ladder, clutching the book to your chest. You backpedaled some decimeters away to create some much needed distance. Alhaitham seemed stunned into silence. Or perhaps he was plotting your murder.

“(Y/N).”

And before you disappeared around the corner, he called out to warn, “I will see you in 36 hours.”

For many weeks afterwards, he made it a point to alert you of his presence whenever you were in the Akademiya’s building. If you were furiously annotating notes from multiple annals spread across your table, he would saunter by and subtly brush his cape against your clothes. If you were simply reading for pleasure, a knee pulled up into your chest because fuck Akademiya propriety, he would make sure to sit at the table across yours and in a chair on the side facing you head on. Did he let himself stare at you too much, finding some enjoyment in watching your facial expressions as you read? Perhaps. If it was late at night and you looked incredibly stressed, he would invite himself to look over your shoulder and observe your information, only to point out some details and offer tidbits of advice. Sometimes you found yourself in deep, research-heavy conversations and got a taste of Alhaitham’s inner workings, which only made you want more.

Tonight after a big project, he invited you to a drink at Lambad’s Tavern, though it was under the guise of needing some help bringing food back for his roommate afterwards, and you were going there anyway. Tucked in the corner, you, aided by alcohol, had let your inhibitions fall. You would need to be passed out to not feel the heat and weight of his gaze on you for the entire night, and you found yourself reveling in it. Yet it didn’t make sense – why would he find an interest in you, out of all the people within Sumeru? Alhaitham could have his pick of anyone, yet he decided to put his eggs in a basket with your name and face on it.

The thoughts stewed inside, even as he made a nonchalant offer to walk you to your apartment. “It is late, and you have no means to defend yourself.” That had been the end of it as he walked towards the path leading to the outskirts of the city, and you had no choice but to follow. At your doorstep, underneath a waning gibbous and cloudy skies, Alhaitham’s body language communicated his hesitancy in leaving you alone for the night, and with a swallow, you had invited him in for a cup of coffee.

He gave a nod. The door clicked shut. And as soon as your eyes with hints of lust met his, he made his move – surging forward to pull you into a kiss, and then spinning to press you against the wall with his thighs slotted between yours. The faint, yet unbridled moan for just mere kisses made his chest swell, and he swiped his tongue against your bottom lip.

“It’s just not – Haitham – a good idea,” you pant, thoughts back in the present moment.

“I disagree,” he retaliates, pulling back to remove your shirt. The rate of his disappearing self-control only increases when he does everything to commit this moment to memory. You’re so beautiful, he laments, torn between wanting to maintain the sanctity of your figure and forcing you to succumb and accept his attempts to claim you. He wants you to feel his kisses and bites for days, so you would never forget and inevitably crave his touch.

You don’t want to argue with him now, not when you finally have him in your hands. Your lips desperately meet his again as you unclip your bra and shrug it off. He follows suit and undoes his cape so he can pull his sleeveless shirt over his head, groaning when he pulls you close and his bare skin takes in the heat emanating from yours. Feeling your hardened nipples slide against his pectorals should not be so alluring, yet he finds himself wishing you two could stay in bed for eternity, naked and entwined and drunk on each others’ touch.

Fingers dig into his silver-gray locks and tugs, to which he answers with a punishing nip on your neck. “Bedroom,” you plead so prettily and he can only let you draw back to lead the way. He wastes little time in pressing forward until the back of your legs hit the bed frame, causing you to fall back. From mere kisses and heavy petting, the look on your face is already so sinful, and Alhaitham can’t help but imagine how you’d look once his cock was inside you.

“You siren and minx,” he sighs in faux displeasure, planting gentle pecks down your chest and abdomen until he hovers over the band of your pants. He tugs them and your underwear down with the aid of your lifted hips – and doesn’t miss the glossy thread of your slick from your vulva to the damp cotton. When it eventually breaks, he feels twinges of regret for not being able to catch it on his tongue and have a taste of you, like a man dying of thirst in the desert.

His hands have a firm grip underneath your thighs and pushes them towards your chest. Alhaitham curses when he has the full view of your pussy, puffy and wet and demanding any attention. “Haitham, please,” and you sound like you’re on the verge of tears.

“Hmm?” His voice teases as his fingers spread and his thumbs are so, so close to where you want them to be. Your pitiful cry is answered with– “Use your words. You surely have never had a problem with that.”

You beat a fist against his chest in retaliation, though there is little to no force behind it. The pathetic attempt at communicating your embarrassment is not lost on you.

Yet despite the heated blood in your veins, the near desperation to climb this high, your heart stills at the smirk sitting devilishly on his lips. You suddenly become hyperaware of every part of your body that he is seeing and touching, and the rational part of your brain returns once more to remind you, again, that this is not going to end well.

In the years that Alhaitham has roamed and trudged through the hierarchy and floors of the Akademiya, everybody knows he is not one for intimate relationships, whether it be deeper friendships or romantic partnerships. So for him to spend his precious free time with an ordinary scholar such as you, no legacy or prestige to your name – it made no sense. You are more than ready to understand that if this night were to run its due course, the end result would be the same if it were to never happen.

The dread that settles into Alhaitham’s body is murky and viscous as he watches sobering clarity fill your system, most noticeably in your eyes. Irises expanding, pupils shrinking, the life and spark from earlier swept away, don’t make much sense to him as you gently remove yourself from his grasp. “Y/N?” He inquires with some of the most uncertainty he’s felt in the last ten or so years. Adrenaline dissolves into veiled panic as he watches you slip on a new pair of underwear and an oversized sleep shirt.

“I’m sorry, I’m not feeling too well,” you supply in a meek voice, looking around and eventually finding his shirt from earlier. The man appears as dumbfounded as he can behind such a blank and austere face such as his, pulling the material back over his head and looping his arms through in a trance. He doesn’t remember following after you but finds himself back in your living room where his cloak had been haphazardly thrown onto the ground. With the way you slide it over his shoulders and make no mistake in securing it properly, he feels as if ice cold water has been dumped over his head.

And then you’re both at the front door and all he knows in this precise moment is that he really, really doesn’t want to leave.

“Thank you again for the drink,” you say, voice cracking near the end and gaze avoiding his at all costs. “You didn’t have to.”

Alhaitham chooses to say nothing, and despite how much the inner turmoil is wrecking your nervous system, you know this is for the best.

Right?

“Did I do anything wrong?”

Yes. No. Of course. Not at all. Maybe.

“No, I just don’t feel well. Maybe the alcohol isn’t agreeing with me.”

At the same time you twist the doorknob and pull, you stand on your tiptoes to plant a shaky kiss against his cheek.

“Goodnight, Alhaitham.”

It’s clear that he’s being banished now, door wide and a clear signal for him to leave. While he may want to slam the door back closed and demand all the answers he needs to the sudden change in your behavior, he simply nods and steps over the threshold, pausing when he fully steps into the hallway. The man doesn’t have the gall to face you straight on, but he lets you take one last look at his side profile, eyes glancing briefly over his shoulder.

“Have a better lie next time.”

This is for the best, you repeat to yourself minutes later when you’re curled underneath your blankets.Your breath shudders as the tears begin to stain your pillowcase, and before you slip into a fitful slumber, you worry about what dreams will greet you.

Alhaitham doesn’t see you for a whole week.

For seven agonizing days, 108 frustration-ridden hours, you are nowhere to be found or seen, as if you decided to hole up in your apartment and never leave your own self-made prison. It’s embarrassing, to a certain degree, just how much he’s been around the library, constantly on the lookout for your figure. Kaveh caught him reading the same page of a history book for at least ten minutes on one of those days, but chose to keep his mouth shut for once and snarky remarks to himself.

On day 8, Alhaitham wonders if he’s begun to hallucinate when he sees you in plain view at the market stand, attempting to barter with the owner to get a better deal on some vegetables. But it’s your voice he hears, your hands he sees, your hair that makes his fingers twitch in a thinly-veiled hidden desire to run them through. He’s left standing in the middle of the street looking like an idiot, yet others perceive his heavy gaze upon your figure to assume that you’re about to get into some trouble and the General Mahamatra was calling in a favor of some sorts.

On day 11, he catches you running up the pathway that leads to the Sanctuary of Surasthana, which is bewildering and confusing in its entirety. What business do you have being anywhere near the residence of Lord Kusanali? Even he as the former Scribe, favored and the most unwilling Acting Grand Sage, and one of the saviors of the Dendro Archon, has not been there since the whole hubbub died down, and it’s been months.

On day 14, you run into the traveler who seems to be making her rounds of saying goodbye to various citizens. Alhaitham had spoken a number of times about her and her travels and you knew her next destination was Fontaine. Not far from home, but far enough away to rid yourself of all these ugly, human emotions and get over this huge crush on the aforementioned man. With unfounded confidence, you call for her attention with shaky breaths.

“Can I help you?” She questions softly, not missing the clear distress in your body.

“My name is Y/N and, um, I’m a scholar at the Akademiya. Though I guess my attire gave that away,” you laugh nervously, gesturing to said clothing. “I’m, uh, an acquaintance, I guess, of Haitham’s? Anyways, that’s not really important, but you’re going to Fontaine, right?”

Lumine nods and stays silent.

Well, here goes nothing. “This might sound really weird but…can I come with you?”

Perfect, golden eyebrows rise in surprise – it’s not everyday a mere stranger so brazenly asks to travel with her, especially to another nation.

“I have some research that is taking me there, but I’d prefer not to travel alone. I was going to leave soon, but just now when I heard you telling people goodbye, I thought I’d try to ask? I’ll pay for your help, and I can even help you find and cook food! Hopefully you don’t find a Vision-less person like me a burden but I promise I won’t get in the way.”

Lumine looks you up and down once more while her thoughts process. You look harmless and it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have another set of hands along the way. Fontaine really wasn’t that far away once they crossed the border. It was becoming clearer to her that you truly did need to get to Fontaine, and not just for research. Perhaps –

“Could it be that you’re running from something?” She asks with curiosity.

“...wow, nothing really gets past you. It’s more like…someone,” you confess, sheepish and embarrassed.

“Are you in danger?”

“Not at all, no!” With hands waving in front of you, you speak with clear denial. “I’m trying to figure some things out and, well, I’d rather do it when I’m not constantly at risk of bumping into him.”

“Clearly I don’t know the details of your situation but…wouldn’t it be better to just be honest with him?”

You take a glance in the direction of the Akademiya and allow a bittersweet smile to grace your lips. “I think my honesty would simply be a burden for him.”

“And you know that because…?”

“Because he is that kind of man. There is no need for him to have a place for me in his heart. But I’m really bringing the mood down – could you please consider my offer? I forgot to mention I can be quite handy with a dagger if need be.”

Lumine and Paimon exchange a look, the fairy shrugging. “We leave tomorrow at first light,” the traveler speaks up. “Is that enough time for you to gather everything you need? If not, as long as we leave by midday, we don’t mind waiting.”

Perfect.

“It’s more than enough time. I pack light anyways.”

“We’ll meet in front of the Sanctuary then. Paimon and I need to meet with Lord Kusanali before we depart.”

You barely get any sleep that night, a ball of nerves and excitement. Your neighbor has been kind enough to hold your spare key to check in on your apartment every once in a while, waving you off when you begin to discuss forms of repayment for their generosity. The last time you ventured out of the main city and its surrounding areas was perhaps a few years ago to get a look at the famed Palace of Alcazarzaray. Alhaitham had briefly spoken of Kaveh a few times, though his tone was an odd amalgamation of genuine respect and scathing admonishment. In fact, you met the architect once when he came to the Akademiya to ask (more like loudly demand) for a copy of their house key. That was one of your first deep dives into how much of a teasing asshole Alhaitham could be, and you had already been spending most of your hours with him.

Fontaine has only ever been presented to you in sketches and paintings, so for a chance to see it in person…you can’t wait.

When your alarm goes off, you practically jump out of bed, throwing on your travel attire that you had set out the night before. With your research materials in a bag and travel essentials in another, you give one last look at your apartment. Who knows when you’ll be back?

#alhaitham x reader #genshin impact smut #al haitham x reader #alhaitham #genshin impact angst

2K notes · View notes