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whalesforhands · 10 months

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life never looked so bleak without you (alhaitham x reader)

warnings: reposted from my old acc cause i miss this fic, some parts might not make sense because you need context from the original fic, but can be read as standalone.

11k+ words

if you liked it, maybe i’ll migrate the fic here? haha comment and reblog pls, i don’t bite

log #1

age 3

“Welcome home, honey!” You bounced as you spun around from the makeshift ‘kitchen’. Made from corrugated cardboard and sheets of coloured paper, it was your dream household.

Which was apparently a self-heating kitchen where the oven could fry, bake, boil and cut all your food. The ‘bedroom’ consisted of a blanket draped over two chairs with the throw pillows from the couch thrown in to maximize comfort. Lastly, you had taken to using the plastic chairs and table as your main ‘dining table’. (“Haitham we can’t be married if we don’t eat together at the same table everyday!”)

(Haitham had helped you spell all the signs.)

Walking into your shared ‘home’, Alhaitham pulled out a chair and silently sat down, leaving the stuffed bear that was meant to be his ‘work bag’ by a leg of the small plastic table. Though, his eyes never left the words in the book were trailing over.

“I’m home.”

You excitedly scurried over to the ‘dining table’, in your hands held a plate of freshly cut zaytun peaches and apples. (With the help of Granny, you acquired real food for your play dinner.)

Making sure the table was clear of leftover colour pencils and paper, you gingerly placed the plate down in front of your distracted ‘husband’ before moving to sit down across from him.

Alhaitham reaches forth to grab a slice of the fruit, eyes still focused on his book all before he felt a sharp sting on his fingers. His eyes connected with yours as he saw your pointed gaze, “Haitham,” you whine, “How could you try to touch the food without washing your hands?”

About to make a retort about how he was already very clean, you continued your pouting.

”And what husband keeps getting distracted by his books? His partner will definitely be very lonely!” With a puff of your cheeks you turn away from him, he was so not being a good husband like in the books!

Alhaitham froze. You were right. He promised to be a good play husband so that you would stop giving that book your undivided attention, and focus solely on him.

Now that he’s grown complacent, with how much you’ve played this game, will you get mad and make him play the family dog?

No. He can’t have that! (He likes playing the part of your husband the most. You call him ‘honey’ and ‘sweetie’ and it makes him warm inside.)

”I-I’m sorry, dear. I will make it up to you.”

(“Granny, granny! What kind of names do married people call each other?”

The old woman paused in her steps, holding the lid of the pot of curry in midair. Letting out a chuckle at the glittering eyes facing her. “Hmm, well my children, aren’t you a little young to be married?” Placing the lid down and giving her curry a stir, she pondered over your question a little.

Clutching Alhaitham’s small hand in your own little ones, you raised it towards Granny.

”Nope! We’re already holding hands, so we’re all ready and set to be married, you see!” You let a huge smile grace your adorable face as you gently tugged Alhaitham towards you.

”Aren’t you both simply adorable! Come here, I’ll teach you how to spell some sweet nicknames for married couples!” Granny definitely had some sweet nicknames in mind for her just as, if not sweeter darlings.)

On the makeshift kitchen, hung a small list of cute pet names for each other. (Some were ‘accidentally’ written twice by a certain silver haired boy so that you would repeat them more often.)

Ah. But there your dearest Haitham goes yet again, speaking words that you both hadn’t learnt on the list.

“Ah? You’ll make… it up to me? Haitham! I don’t like liars!”

“No! It means I’ll do something nice and extra special for you so that you won’t be mad at me.” He let out a puff of annoyance as he crossed his arms.

”Really?! That sounds so nice! What are you gonna do for me?” You placed your plastic ladle on the kitchen ‘counter’, ensuring that it didn’t fall before hurrying over to his side to receive your ‘extra special’ gift.

Alhaitham thought for a small moment. He could give you a larger portion of his Padisarah Pudding today. Though, that might not work out. You were prone to feeding him even larger bites of your own pudding, citing that whenever Alhaitham leaned in towards your spoon, he looked ‘cute’.

He could read more of your storybooks with you? Though, you usually get a little huffy when he didn’t understand why the prince would trek through such dangerous trails to kiss a princess that’s been asleep for hundred of years.

Oh. That struck a chord in his brain. He knows what to do now.

Alhaitham got on one knee before you, his little legs stumbling a little as he tried to keep his balance. He fixed his hair, and straightened out his clothing as you looked on with a curious, bright gaze.

You were basically bouncing in place. You recognized the position he was getting in! It was the pose many princes were described to be in when meeting the princess! Ahhhh! (Though you would expect your prince to be a little taller. And wielding a powerful sword as he arrives on a white stallion. But Haitham will do for now.)

Gingerly, Alhaitham grabbed hand, tenderly bringing your soft, chubby hand towards his face. Placing his lips on your knuckles, he produced a soft chu!

His chubby cheeks brightened at what he had just done. (But it’s worth it. For you.)

You on the other hand, were speechless. You thought you’d be accepting the kiss with calm graciousness and elegance, but for some reason, your heart was absolutely soaring.

Weird.

You’ve learned that princesses don’t only take, they also give. And give you will.

You grinned at the kneeling boy, retracting your hand and bending downwards towards his forehead. Clasping his squishy cheeks in your arms, you placed a soft peck on his forehead.

”This is your thank you in return my prince!” You released his face. “You are hereby forgiven and can have another chance of being a good husband!”

Yep. If Alhaitham wasn’t already red before, he definitely was now.

(Granny was watching all this unfold whilst sipping tea. You’d make a wonderful future in-law, if she could say so herself.)

(She hoped that you will continue to stay with that stoic grandchild of hers. The reactions you get out of him were absolutely precious.)

——

log #2

age 16

Granny’s library was a haven. Within the confinements of this small room, was the sanctuary of two friends who basked in presence of each other. A place to escape their responsibilities, a place to be simply and unapologetically be themselves.

Their special spot, that has subconsciously rooted itself into their hearts and never to be forgotten. From the tall shelves holding collections of academic journals, dictionaries and encyclopedias to the small exchanges between the two who have made this area their own.

In a quaint corner of the room, there sat an old, rustic piano. Once belonging to Alhaitham’s father, it was constantly played by to serenade the object of his affection, surrounding her form with a sweet melody he had created just for her ears to hear.

Unfortunately, it has been more than a decade since then. The piano had long lost its shine, covered in dust with its strings deteriorated from years of neglect. Granny did not have the heart to get rid of it, giving Alhaitham free will to do what he wished with it. Though, he did not care much for it.

Until today.

Watching your door from his window, Alhaitham let a smile unknowingly crawl onto his face as he strode over to the door, hand clasping around the doorknob and turning before pulling it open.

Your fist froze mid-air, you pouted at the male.

”How did you know I was coming?!”

Now, sat upon the dusty piano stool, you rubbed at your nose, trying to clear away the particles that had caused the red, irritable itch to rise from it.

”We should have cleaned it first.” Alhaitham sat next to you, fingers trailing over the keys of the old piano as he watched you struggle with the presence of the very dust. “I’ll go get you my handker-“

”No! Stay! I’m too excited to wait any longer!”

You had always seen the old piano stashed away in the corner of your favourite room. It definitely intrigued you, leading to you dragging Haitham over to have a better look at it. You needed his approval, it belonged to his family after-all. (And his discerning eye for safety in case you were going to accidentally break something.)

Sat upon the piano’s music stand, was an old, worn journal. Embossed on the leather cover was a small, silver heart. Reminiscent of Alhaitham’s silver hair. You gingerly picked it up, gently flipping through the pages as Alhaitham watched over your shoulder.

“Haitham…! This is… This is your parents’ sheet music!”

“I see.” Alhaitham, having grown up entirely under his grandmother’s care, did not exactly feel any emotions pertaining to his parents. He simply did not grow any attachment to them, since he was far too young when they passed. So seeing the remnants of their existence did not send him into an emotional spiral, just left him feeling neutral.

You, on the other hand, mistook his nonchalance for melancholy. You patted his shoulder, grinning.

”I’ll play it for you! Just… Give me a few weeks! And, um, lend me this book? Please?”

How could he ever say no to those eyes you gave him? Granny sure would not mind either.

So here you sat on the piano stool now, having practiced for a mere four days. You had limited knowledge in music, having been pressured to learn some basic piano by your father when you were far younger.

Unfortunately, you never progressed past the basics, your father being unimpressed with your sheer mediocrity despite having you to practice for hours on end. He ended the piano lessons soon after.

Well, at least you could use your mediocre skill to help make Haitham’s day a little brighter. However, another problem soon arose.

You have only ever played in front of your father and piano teacher. Now, under Haitham’s soft gaze, you felt shy.

“You’re making me nervous, Haitham!” Your eyes were shaky as you faced the piano, dust having long been cleaned up despite your protests that Alhaitham didn’t need to. (His handkerchief was now in your pocket.)

”How did you even play in front of your teacher and father?”

”I don’t know! I just did, okay?”

Alhaitham thought for a moment, before giving you a suggestion. “Close your eyes then.”

”Eh?”

“If you close your eyes, it’s as if I wasn’t here.” He continues, gaze now focused on the piano. “Since you won’t see me looking at you.”

”I only practiced for a while though…! I don’t think I’m good enough to be-“

”I believe in you.”

You went silent. Alhaitham’s praise and affirmations always left you shy.

“Okay… But could you also turn the other way? I feel like I could still feel your gaze since we’re sitting together.”

Alhaitham huffed, “Fine. I don’t need my eyes to hear you play anyway.” And so he turned.

“You know, in my books situations like this usually ended up with the two main characters kissing!” It was an offhand joke to help you loosen up and calm down a little more before you played.

Alhaitham simply looked unimpressed. You giggled and cupped his face, before pressing your fingers to his forehead to smooth out his furrowed brows.

“You’ll get wrinkles, you grumpy old man.”

As you began, Alhaitham had already quietly shifted his body to face you once again. He wouldn’t give up a chance to stare at you with no risk of getting caught, after-all.

He was simply entranced by you. How your hands glided over the keys, how your brows furrowed in concentration, how your hair shone in the light of the setting sun, how beautiful you looked in this moment. He felt something stir within his chest, a soothing comfort paired with a tinge of worry.

What was this? He doesn’t know.

Though, he wouldn’t mind being frozen in time right now. Alas, the sweet, romantic melody filling the air soon came to its final verse.

“I don’t think I did too bad!” A proud look of satisfaction crossing your features as you faced him, expecting his back to be turned to you.

You had disregarded the existence of close proximity.

An accidental brushing of lips between the two friends sitting by the piano, three seconds of contact and a multitude of mushy emotions springing forth within their longing hearts. Is this what all those characters felt in your books?

Hastily, you both pulled away from each other as your hands came up to clasp themselves over your mouth. You could feel the heat emanating from your face through your palms, eyes wide and shock filling your eyes as you tried to comprehend the situation.

What just happened? You stupid, stupid fool! Why did you not watch where you were turning? That romance book comment was meant as a joke! Oh, what cruel archon is forcing you to play it out with your one and only dearest friend?! You shouldn’t have sat so close to him in the first place!

But… You kind of liked it.

But what if he didn’t like that? What if he thinks less of you now?

Just because of one kiss?

Alhaitham was faring no better.

His eyes had glossed over, mouth slightly agape in genuine shock and surprise as his gaze was stuck on you. Red tipped his ears as he tried desperately to find reason and use his prided logic to regain his senses. He could not.

Overloaded by the intimate feeling of brought about from the kiss you shared. For the first time, Alhaitham had completely blanked out. His fingers gingerly placed themselves on his lips, he could feel the phantom texture of your kiss lingering on them.

He wanted more.

You were both no stranger to physical contact, considering your clingy self. Hands grazing each other as you walked next to each other, heads resting on shoulders when either of you get tired, and even that one time Alhaitham had kissed the back of your hand when you were both younger to act as your prince. (Because “Princes are gentlemen who greet princesses like that!”)

Yet, this was so similar, yet so entirely different to the feelings you both felt when it came to your casual, frequent acts of intimacy.

You both sat in awkward silence for a full minute.

You had imagined your first kiss to be far more romantic, on a starlit night as you gazed into your faceless lover’s eyes, hands holding their face in your hands as they grasped your hips, pulling you closer to their form. They would’ve whispered sweet nothings into your ear, leaving sweet kisses starting from your forehead, down to your nose and both cheeks before their eyes would settle on your lips.

They would whisper another soft “I love you…” into your skin, before they would lean in and finally hav-

You were broken away from your thoughts when Alhaitham’s face was once again in close proximity with yours. Hand gently gripping your wrist and pulling you closer to him, “Can we… Do that again?”

The sheer desperation and raw want in his eyes caused you to fluster, and left you speechless. You could only close your eyes as your lips were once again captured by his, melting into the kiss.

Thus began the beginnings of a your crush on your dearest friend.

——

log #3

age 17

You would describe yourself as a simple person. You were okay with taking things slowly, simply going with the flow.

You were okay with the thought of living a simple life within Sumeru city, in a neat little apartment close to your workplace, where you work a regular 9 to 5, before buying groceries from the nearby market and cooking dinner at home 6 times a week and buying takeout as a treat.

You were okay with delegating weekends to be the cleaning days. The days specifically for laundry, dishwashing and general housekeeping.

You were okay with it. It’s not like you hated the thought of it or anything. If nothing else, you’d even say you would love to have that kind of life, especially if there was a romantic partner in the picture.

“You know, I don’t really know what I really even want to do in the future.” You smile, propping yourself up on your elbows as you lifted your eyes, averting from the boring textbook in front of you.

“Planning for your future already? How thoughtful of you.” The dry response from Alhaitham came quietly, attesting to your environment. In a quiet corner of the Akademiya’s library you both sat, Alhaitham having buried his nose in The Law of Elemental Reactions, by his side sat a stack of just as daunting book titles, your eyes quickly scanning the ones he’s picked out.

‘Academic Infringements of Rights, Case Studies of Anthropological Sites, Cultivation of-‘

Alhaitham was smart, and that is a given fact. Though even you get tuckered out from trying to absorb the entirety of one of those books, let alone the towering stack Alhaitham had picked out.

Noticing your gaze, he responded. “These are to simply pass the time as I wait for you.”

“W-What? You don’t have to wait for me,” Your voice lowered to a whisper as you caught the glare of a librarian burning into the back of your head. “I don’t think I’ll be done anytime soon…”

You, as a responsible student of the Haravatat Darshan, had completely lost your translation essay.

You dug through your haversack over and over, stress rearing its ugly head as you felt your heart sink to the bottom of your chest.

“No… No, this can’t be…” You were devastated. Absolutely downcast. You threw your bag to the floor as you rummaged through, anxiety-induced tears quietly gathering at the corner of your eyes.

You spent a lot of time on that paper. Within your lecture, each student had been assigned a new foreign language to translate a script of text into. It was worth at least a third of your grade for this semester. And you were almost 100% sure you had filed it away safely into the confines of your bag.

You were anxious, starting to hyperventilate. Your breaths quickened as your heartbeat sped up. “Hai-Haitham, hah…” You fell onto your knees. Your head was pounding.

Why, oh why? Oh Greater Lord Rukkhadevata, you will pray everyday to her if it means finding this essay. If it means that you won’t fail, if it means you won’t disappoint yourself, if it means you won’t disappoint Father, if it means you won’t be seen as incompetent by Al-

“I found it.” Handing you your essay, he helped you up to your feet, gently grabbing your forearms and guiding you up as your eyes brightened up, face drooping in exuberant relief as you grabbed onto Alhaitham for support.

”You did?! Where was it?!” Your relief was, however, soon betrayed as your eyes scanned the text.

This wasn’t your paper.

”Alhaitham… This… It’s due tomorrow, Haitham, you can’t-“

”No. This is yours. Take. It.” Alhaitham took your hands to grip around the essay, his own hands clasping over your own. “I’m more than exemplary when it comes to grades, I’m sure you’ll do well.”

“Haitham…” Your eyes glazed over with tears as you threw your hands around him. Crying into his chest as you both stood in his bedroom, his arms wrapped tight around you as his hand stroked your back soothingly.

“Thank you so much. Thank you. I love you. I love you so much Haitham.” Your eyes begin to water even more as you looked into those softened teal-orange ones.

“But you know that I would never accept this.” Your hands reach to cup his face, bringing him down to your eye-level. “Haitham,” You sigh. “You are very smart.”

”That means nothing to me.”

You chuckle. “For such a smart man, I wouldn’t think that you would give up your very own work for me.” Your thumbs smooth over the skin under his eyes. He could only stay silent as he relishes in your touch. Another whispered ‘thank you’ before you place a gratitude-filled peck upon his cheek.

His heart skips a beat.(He hopes you didn’t feel that.)

“I’ll redo it myself, Haitham.”

“Then, do allow me to help.”

(He followed you to the library.)

Thus, an all-nighter was pulled.

(You treated Haitham to a drink of his choice, to the point of even stealing his wallet away when he attempted to sneakily pay for the both of you.)

You were always thankful for the good health you were blessed with. Despite not being the most physically fit scholar, you would argue that you were one of the healthiest.

‘Healthy’ in a sense that you barely ever got sick.

Alhaitham on the other hand, was a whole different story. Growing up, your poor Haitham always had had a weak body constitution, easily catching illnesses and catching common colds left right and center despite his sanitary precautions.

You would be glum on the days where he was declared bedridden and too ill to leave the house by Granny, often sending over pots of homemade congee and herbal broths stemming from Liyuen recipes over in hopes of helping him recover sooner.

(Granny refused to let you into the house. “What if you caught Haitham’s nasty cold?!”)

“The ‘Get-well-soon’ bouquet was unnecessary. Spending mora on such unneeded expenses is only going to put a bigger hole in your wallet.” Pulling your cheeks as he grumbled on and on about your waste of precious expenses on him, that you could’ve saved up money for something you would prefer, that he should’ve been the one to buy-

What was that last sentence? You didn’t catch that under all the pain.

“Haithammmmm, thawt hurtssss!” You whine as you let him continuously pinch and pull at your face. It didn’t actually hurt of course, you were just trying to lighten up your grumpy friend. “And of cworse you nweed flowers, Haithwam!” Placing your hands over the ones settled on your face, you held them in place. “Plus, I read once that men only receive flowers for the first time when it’s their funeral! Totally blasphemous if you ask me, so don’t worry Haitham! I’ve prevented that from happening!”

Why were you so goddamn cute? With a face as stoic as ever, but ears burning red at the tips, Alhaitham just continued his abuse on your squishy face.

”Nwoooooo, stop! I won’t hwave mwy cheeks anymworeeeee!”

However, in this situation, you have no one to blame other than yourself. Staying late after school within the Akademiya’s library to catch up with lectures you totally didn’t understand with Alhaitham, you had both just finished a progressive study session when the sky soon darkened.

Uh oh. Silly little you forgot your umbrella. Again. Good going, champ.

“You should’ve checked the weather forecast.” Alhaitham pulled out a sleek, dark green umbrella. It was plain, with no designs on it to set it apart from other umbrellas if he ever lost it.

(Not that he will, but you wholeheartedly believe that even your ever responsible Haitham will mess up one day!)

It greatly contrasted the pastel one you owned, with its cute designs and bright colours, you could easily identify it even when it has been stolen!

(Not that that would matter now, considering you had gone and left it at home.)

”So….” You cleared your throat, fixing your green beret and dusting off your clothes as you faced Alhaitham with glittering eyes. “Remember that time you made me cry when we were younger?”

”Guilt-tripping, huh? What exactly rubbed you the wrong way today?” A smirk on his face as he looked down upon you.

“Oh? Nothing much, just that my prince in shining Akademiya robes has yet to save me from this dreadful rain! Oh, when will a savior wielding a mighty umbrella come to my aid!” Your hand flew to your forehead for dramatic effect, as you slumped against a pillar.

”And I’ll give you a massage.”

”Deal.”

The walk back was eventful, full of chatter and laughter on your end. You would point out the highlights of your day, the fight to stay awake in class, what you had for lunch-

Despite you pointing out all little details you noticed throughout your day, you failed to notice wet shoulder Alhaitham was getting. He leaned the umbrella closer towards you, ensuring that you were dry, protecting you from the rain. He didn’t care that he was getting wet, as long as you were comfortable.

(How didn’t you notice that sooner?)

A sneeze caused Alhaitham to bolt from his lying position on the bed. Dressed down in his shirt and boxers, he was in absolute hell. His body was cold when out of the duvet, but when he huddled under it, he was feeling far. Too. Hot.

He drank another sip of water. Granny wouldn’t be able to be back until evening. He had to get through this. He could. But why does everything ache? Why does your hand soothe him so much when you place it against his forehead?

”Haitham… I’m so sorry…! I should’ve noticed your robes were getting wet-!” You were feeling so, so guilty.

“No… It’s not, ack, your fault.” Alhaitham sniffled out. Oh, how he wishes Granny hadn’t called you over to take care of him. He looks far from the capable, stoic version of his usual self.

Archons, this was embarrassing.

”Wait- Do you- do you want me to leave? You are absolutely burning up, please go to sleep, Haitham…!” Your whisper-yelled, removing your hand from his forehead. “I’ll go make you some of my congee, you haven’t eaten today.”

”You… You’re leaving?”

”Hm? To make you some food, Haitham.” You continued to whisper, moving off the seat to begin your trek to the kitchen.

”…don’t go… Stay…” His hand reached out from under the sheets, grasping the air for you.

Oh, archons. Alhaitham was so cute when he was sick.

You pet his hair, holding his hand and soothing him to close his eyes.

”Hehe, it’ll only be for a little while, Haitham.”

”You’ll… Come back?” His usually deep voice was now so soft sounding, so gentle. Like he would break if you even prodded him too much.

”Of course,” You cooed. “I’ll be back real soon.”

Alhaitham awoke to the smell of ginseng. You sat at his bedside, a serving tray placed upon his desk as you held a serving bowl in your hands.

“Hello, Haitham” You murmured gently. “I’m back, as promised. Can you eat?”

Yes. He could eat. He was absolutely starving, but, he was also feeling weak. Feeling weak means he had lost his inhibitions temporarily, the logic holding back his heart’s desire has been unlocked.

His eyes glanced towards you, donning Granny’s pink apron as you held a bowl out towards him.

”…Feed me.” What in Teyvat was wrong with him? What did he just request?! He was almost a grown man- He can feed himself-!

“Ohhhh! You’re so demanding and needy when you’re sick! Of course, Haitham!”

He was mentally fighting himself the first time the spoon gently prodded at his lips, eyes averting themselves quickly to avoid your sweet gaze as he opened his mouth, taking the first bite. Each spoonful was fed to him with so much love and care. Your cooing after he successfully finished the bowl had him feeling warm and mushy inside. Alhaitham adjusted himself against the pillow, breaths getting less heavy as he felt more energy return to him.

Pressing the back of your palm against his forehead as you leaned in closer, you attempted to gauge his current body temperature.

Archons. You were so incredibly close to him. Please stay right here. Stay close to him. Keep your hand on him. Keep watching him. Only him.

”Oh, it’s definitely went down now! Congrats, Alhaitham, you’re getting better!” You attempted to pull away, to create more distance between you and your crush.

He pulled you onto the bed with him. Encircling you in his arms, his grip tightened.

”…Stay.”

Oh my archons. If this was how he usually acted when sick, you never want him to get better.

You sit up, still having his arms wrapped around your waist. You grab his face, slightly pinching the red cheeks. (Was this red from his fever or was he just blushing? He won’t ever let you know.)

”Haitham, I’ll get sick too, you know.”

”Then… You can spend more time with me here…”

Oh. Oh. So cute. Your heart really was gonna burst.

”Are you sleepy, Haitham?”

”Mmm…” His grip around you loosened a little.

”Then go to sleep. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

”…Promise?”

”Promise!” You interlaced your fingers with his. “I’ll keep holding your hand like this to let you ensure that I’m here.”

(Alhaitham woke up with you huddled into his chest. The lights were off and you had a blanket draped over you.)

(Granny definitely saw the both of you.)

——

log #4

age 21

Operation: Get Alhaitham to forgive you for being a horrible person!

Honestly, the guilt has been eating at you since you’ve been ‘forgiven’ by him. On what basis did you even deserve this?

None. You were simply a terrible person throughout, running from your issues and using the ones the cared about you most.

At least you were self-aware.

(As if that was enough for someone to forgive you for all the bad you’ve done.)

You sighed, poking at your Aaru mixed rice as you thought about ideas.

Monetary gifts of high value? No, his salary is way higher than yours, and he could definitely afford whatever he wants at any given moment.

Apologetic flowers? Sure, but he’s already been giving you bouquet after bouquet of flowers every week.

(Strangely, these bouquets have an unusual assortment of flowers within them. Mixed with sweet flowers, cecilias, padisarahs and dandelions and even more. It was definitely a strange assortment.

Upon questioning the strange arrangement, Alhaitham’s ears were bright red as he tried to keep a straight face.

“I… Ahem. I grew them.” He coughed out, averting his gaze towards the now stupendously intriguing sentence he had been rereading ever since you walked into fray.

”…how did you grow so many all at once…? Sumeru’s climate is suitable for most species of flowers- but regional specific ones like these dandelions are-

He coughs yet again, or it sounded more like he desperately trying to clear his throat?

His brilliant mind could come up with a million different excuses. Oh, he picked them while on a short trip to the forest. A florist was having a clearance sale on their flowers. Kaveh had a few spare flowers leftover from his next project-

He could go on and on, but when it’s you, he blanks out. Plus, being honest with you was one of the key factors to being a good future partner, no matter the shame that came along with it.

“My- Vision. The flowers popped up whenever I thought of you.” His hand latched over his mouth as he felt his face grow hot. “I… Thought it was only appropriate for me to gift them to the one who occupies my mind.”

Now you were the one blushing, a moment of vulnerability of Alhaitham’s had turned into yours. How does he be so smooth with his words?

“Oh… That’s… That’s really cute… Thank you.”)

There was no way you could match up to that level of thoughtfulness behind your own bouquets.

Should you offer him your bod- No. You slap your own cheeks, startling the silver-haired man sitting before you as you attempted to come back to your senses.

“Are you okay? I would advise you against hitting your own face. I am not comfortable with seeing you hurt.”

His reaction was immediate, hand reaching forth to stroke your red cheeks, his eyebrows furrowed in worry as his gaze of concern pierced directly into your heart.

Oh, Archons save you.

Was it possible for you to get so red you’ll explode? Possibly. Alhaitham was so handsome that it was hard to even function properly with those eyes staring directly at you.

You immediately darted your eyes away, taking great interest in your food as your eyes flitted towards his own, half-eaten sandwich.

Was that all he was having today? For such a large man, he sure is holding back today. Usually, you’d see him eating much larger portions of protein to supplement the sheer muscle mass he possessed.

Your eyes looked between his food and your own.

An idea. An idea that required a great deal of your nonexistent confidence.

“Um- Alhaitham…?”

”Hmm?” He replied, eyes still concentrated on your red cheeks as his fingers grazed your soft skin, attempting to soothe the irritated red patches.

“Would you um-, like some of my food?” The last few words got stuck in your throat, barely audible to the man had he not have been listening so intently to you.

His eyes widened in surprise, heart momentarily skipping a beat. Are you kidding him? Of course, yes! Yes! He would love to eat some of your food, especially if-

“No, my food is perfectly adequate for my dietary needs.”

Oh. Mission failed. Better luck next time? Your shoulders visibly slumped at your failure of a plan, a frown slowly etching onto your face as you fought to show a smile.

Ah. You should’ve known.

- -

Internally, Alhaitham was tearing at locks of his hair in frustration. He had said that out of habit, out of pure instinct.

Many a times had some of his colleagues invited him out for a small lunch gathering, despite his slightly frustrated rejections, they managed to slip him into their group outings once or twice.

And more often than not, female and male colleagues alike would notice how attractive the stoic scribe was. Seeing him from afar was not thing, but sitting up close to him? A whole different standard of beauty was met.

From the tight shirt obscured by his coat hiding the ripples of muscle underneath, his attractive facial structure and his gorgeously intense eyes all paired off with his apathetic nature shrouded him in mystery.

And anyone would have to be the world’s most deceitful, blind or a decent mixture of both to say that was not attractive in the least.

However, upon attempting to grow closer to the scribe, he would shut himself off, giving curt, blunt answers to keep a respectable distance between the individual attempting to curry his favour. Be it man or woman, Alhaitham was unfazed to their less than savory methods of subtle seduction, telling them to knock it off at point blank or physically removing himself from the situation when they grated too much on his thinning patience.

But you.

You were different. You weren’t a stranger. You weren’t annoying to him in the slightest. Sure, your attempts at trying to flirt with him can only be described as plain awkward, but you certainly had your charm. You were no longer trying to avoid him.

His eyes followed you, internally devastated at himself for denying your offering.

(You could’ve been feeding him right this moment if he hadn’t had that stupid, stupid habit ingrained into him.)

He needs to fix this. Now.

He coughs, marking the page swiftly and tucking the book away as his arms laid on the table.

“I suppose- A small bite wouldn’t hurt.”

Your body straightened in an instance, happily scooping a hearty serving as you moved to pass the spoon into the scholar’s hand. To your surprise, he grabbed at your arm, maneuvering the utensil to land in his mouth. (With you still holding it?!?)

Wha-What? Did you just- Feed… him?

Alhaitham had soon manually removed your spoon, due to you being, frankly, too stunned to move. That hot blush encompassing your entire face to the tips of your ears had made it obvious to his effects on you.

And Alhaitham was proud of it. No longer did he feel embarrassed having done that, if that flustered you, it was all worth it.

He chewed, swallowing the rather tasty morsel of food in his mouth.

“Delicious. Though, I suppose you should add more chili flakes next time.”

Getting a taste of your cooking will always be the best treat to him.

- -

Phase 2! Show something heartfelt to prove your sincerity!

What could possibly be more sincere than making the scribe handmade treats? He seemed to enjoy the bites of your lunch you would give him sometimes, so what harm could possibly come from this?

You stirred and mixed, going by pure instinct and feeling for your little baking escapade. Though, one extra thing you would need to make the perfect pastry would be one simple thing: love.

You had an abundance of it, keeping the ones you adored close to your heart.

But… Alhaitham- Or, your Haitham was- is different. Your relationship was blurring the lines between close friends and an actual couple, the only barrier being your hesitance, your fear.

You didn’t like getting hurt. And sweet Alhaitham, he had always been patient. Waiting for you, promising you that he would always be right by your side.

You didn’t know if the ‘love’ you felt for him was those akin to the sweet sappy childhood first love, or the sensual satisfaction he could bring you. You knew, knew you were being selfish, making him wait like this.

But, but, but. Your deepest desire was only to embrace him, allow him to feel all these overflowing feelings from your chest whenever you were around him. Hoping, praying he would help you understand all these unsaid emotions.

- -

Maybe giving him treats was a mistake. You watched Alhaitham sigh as he lugged a small paper bag of treats onto one of his couches. Grimacing at the sheer amount of assorted treats falling out of the bag.

Hiding the the caneles that you had baked behind you, you peeked your head out from the corner.

”What’s with all the treats?”

Alhaitham held his head, plopping onto his sofa as he slumped into the soft cushions.

“Some of the younger students of the Akademiya gave them to me today.”

Oh. Maybe you shouldn’t have baked today afterall.

“Are you going to… Y’know- Eat them?”

He pondered your question momentarily. “I suppose it would be rude not to.” He paused, turning to look at you. “Care to join me?”

“Ah- I wouldn’t- I’m kinda… Busy right now?”

Alhaitham scrutinized you, and the way you were nervously shifting around, hands held behind your back.

”What’s wrong?”

”Huh? Uh… Nothing?”

”Something is clearly wrong if you’re being so shifty. Are you holding something?”

”No!” Ah, ah, ah. Lying is bad. “Okay- Fine, yes.”

You timidly scooted over to the couch, presenting your neatly wrapped, cute little pack of baked treats.

“I… Made this for you today…” You shyly stuttered out, before quickly trying to retract your hands.

”But! Since you already have so many- Let me just-“ You sheepishly tried to pull them away, but the ‘feeble’ scholar, with unnaturally fast reflexes, caught your hands, gently tugging the bag away and into his hands.

”I’ll eat them.”

”You don’t have to if you don’t want to-“

He wasn’t listening, already undoing the cute ribbon and taking a rather large bite out of your creation. You sunk down onto the couch beside him, observing him as he chewed and tasted it.

“So… How is it?”

Alhaitham remained silent, only to continuously eat your baking. He absolutely inhaled your creation, leaving not even a single crumb left, as you looked on, shocked.

”It was wonderful. Thank you.”

- -

Phase 3! Uh… Apologise?

”I’m sooo sorry!” You cried into his shoulder.

Currently, you were sat snugly upon Alhaitham’s lap, his arms cradling your drunken form as you weeped your apologies into his shoulder.

”I-I’m such a bad friend! I hurt you so much!” You sniffled even more, crying as your arms wrapped around the man’s shoulders.

You had both agreed to drink together within the confines of his home. Never did the scribe expect for you to be such a… Lightweight.

One glass in, you words were starting to slur.

Another glass was all it took for you to suddenly climb onto him, straddling him as you stared so sultrily into his eyes before you-

Broke down in tears?

He awkwardly patted at your back.

You haven’t been so close to him so… willingly before. It felt nice.

”I wanna say sorry… Did I say sorry…? I’m sorry, Haitham!”

”You don’t have to apologise, I’ve already-“ Pause. His eyes snapped towards your clouded ones. “What did you just call me…?”

You smiled, bright, cheerful and full of adoration. “Haitham…?”

Oh. Oh no. His heart was going to implode on itself.

“Haithammmmm!! Why are you so red?! You look like- hic! A cute little hic- Harra fruit… hehe!”

You continuously shifted around on his lap, pulling and poking at his face as you giggled and ruffled his hair. “You’re sooooo squishy!”

“(name). I implore you… Please stop moving around so much…”

”You’re not- Hic! Squishy enough yetttt!” You pinched at his cheeks, leaving a kiss on his forehead as you continued your alcohol-riddled goal of ‘teddyifying’ the scribe, to make him more suitable for cuddles.

Should he hold you down…? If he did, the growing ‘problem’ would become too large to handle.

His hands hesitantly shifted up to hold your hips. This was the lesser of the two evils.

You pouted, hands halting in their movements to press at his face.

“Oh? Hugs?” You were in gleeful bliss.

”Hugs!” You unceremoniously wrapped your arms around the man, holding him close, holding him tight. Directly pressing his face into your chest due to your positioning.

You were going to be the death of him.

Operation: Success?

——

log #-

age ???

“Hm…”

You hummed, tracing your fingers over taut skin of your boyfriend’s chest, whilst your lips were kept busy, kissing over the corners of his mouth. Sitting in his lap, you were over the moon at being given the chance to be able to feel him up.

On the morning of the weekend, you had bounded over to the lax man that was sitting upright in his bed, book in his hands and earpieces, surprisingly, not slotted into his ears. It was a rarity that his roommate, Kaveh would be out of the house. As such, Alhaitham could enjoy a few hours of peace and quiet, listening only to the sounds of your tittering around his home, and calling out his name oh so sweetly as you call him over to the kitchen to sample the lunch you were making as you fed him with your chopsticks or spoon fed him some soup.

(“So is it any good?”

“Anything you make is good, dear. Delicious as always.”

You puffed out your cheeks in annoyance. “Haitham! I won’t ever improve my cooking if all you do is compliment me!”

“It is actually delicious, my de-“

A pout coupled with narrowed eyes. Another scoop poured into the small serving dish held out towards him.

He takes another taste.

“A little more salt would suffice, darling.”)

Alhaitham is adamant on making you stay over as often as he can to spend more time with you. On nights, he would ensure that he was distracting you enough with tempting offers of new light novels that had just been released, ‘pretending’ to fall asleep with his arms wound tightly around you, ‘startling’ awake when you would even breathe a little too hard, to playing dirty and tiring you to exhaustion after an intense tumbling in bed.

(He wonders just why you haven’t decided to just move in with him yet.)

You had crawled onto his lap, maybe a bit too excitedly, not noticing that you were brushing over certain, well, more sensitive areas. Comfortably seated upon one of his strong, rather large thigh, your intentions started off rather innocent.

Twirling locks of his hair between your fingers, squishing his face in your hands, leaving kisses trailing from his forehead, to the tip of the nose, to his left cheek, to behind his ear, down to the column of his neck. You were mouthing at his throat, playful and teasing as you kissed and sucked on the exposed skin.

”(name)…” A hand reaches up to hold the back of your head in place, preventing you from going further. “Please,” A sharp intake of air as he felt you leave another kiss. “Stop…” He sounded out in slightly breathy pants, the tips of his ears blushing a bright red as the other hand that had been lazily placed on your hip tightened slightly.

You pouted. “Sorry, Haitham…” Cooing, you stroked his cheek. “You just looked so cute.” You laid your head against his chest, eyes glittering as you stared into his eyes.

You’ve got him entranced, and you knew it. The blush apparent on his face, all the way to the tip of his ears and grimace of fake annoyance on his face confirmed it.

Alhaitham sighs, not being able to resist the look in your eye. He loosened his hold on you, slumping back against the pillow, body going slack. All whilst bringing you down with him.

Now longer on his lap, you were laying directly on top of him. You both let yourselves revel in the moment, physically close and hearts full of adoration and love.

Until Alhaitham felt a hand slide under his shirt, prodding at his chiselled abdomen. Ah. You were starting again.

Your hands felt like they were absolutely everywhere. Squeezing his biceps, trailing over his triceps, down to his hips. Your mouth wasn’t doing innocent either, now knowing that his upper body was off limits, you were entertaining yourself using his pectorals. Biting, and leaving marks littered throughout his built chest.

He felt your hand reach up to squeeze one of his pecs, letting out a slight groan at your touch. You continued to squeeze, a huff of exasperation leaving you. Alhaitham met your eyes, arm now wrapped around your waist, holding you closer to him as he tilted his head in question.

Your brows furrowed. “It’s just,” Hand still on his pec, you squeeze again. “Why do your boobs feel bigger than mine?”

You weren’t looking at him anymore, but you could definitely feel him rolling his eyes at you.

“Dearest, I do not have breasts.”

”Honey, if these aren’t your manboobs,” Another squeeze. “I don’t know what they are.”

He lets out a sigh in defeat. You certainly made the weirdest comments at inappropriate times. You giggle at his baffled self, head now cuddling itself between his pecs.

“I still love them very much, Haitham.”

”More than you love me?”

”Hmm… Depends on the day then. These,” You nuzzle closer into his chest. “These do not leave their books in piles on the floor and cause me to trip.”

Alhaitham brings his arm up to your nape, resting itself over it as the other stays over your waist, just above your posterior. He presses a kiss against your forehead.

”I’ve already apologised, dear.”

”Apologies don’t fix the bruise on my knee.”

Ah, whatever will he do with you. One moment you were kissing all over his body, giving him the love he needs from you, the next you were pouting about his habit of leaving books scattered throughout his home.

You crawl up slightly, wiggling to loosen his hold on you so that you were face to face with him. “How about this, Haitham.” Your hands cup his face. “You make dinner for us and Kaveh tonight,” A kiss to his jaw. “And I’ll forgive you.”

”And you’ll stay the night?” The hopefulness in his voice was so cute.

”Mmhm.”

You leaned forwards for another kiss, this time pressing your lips directly against his as he reciprocated in kind.

——

final log

2:33 am

In your post-coital bliss, you could hardly move. You were laying on your back, bites littering your skin as you heaved from exhaustion. Your back was sore, your legs felt heavy and the various marks left on you were beginning to sting as the high of pleasure wore off.

You whined out in your hoarse voice, doing your best to sit up against the propped up pillow in search of your husband.

Just where was he?

You could swear you felt him supporting your limp body after you had nearly passed out from the ecstasy of pleasure, his hands gripping your hips as his face buried itself into the crook of your neck. His hips were stilled, letting out a groan as he pushed himself against you, trying to get impossibly closer to you as he-

Ugh, you were sore just thinking about it. It wasn’t long before you heard the quiet click of the door, your husband, in his shirtless glory, back decorated with scratches and little marks throughout his neck and chest, while holding a glass of water and a pain relief pill. He knew you needed it.

As you hungrily drank down the glass of water, with Alhaitham supporting your back and holding the glass to your lips for you, he observed your tired form.

“Do you need a shower?”

You shook your head, too fatigued to currently respond with your hoarse voice. He stroked your head, leaving and returning swiftly with a small bowl of warm water and a soft cloth.

He pulled you closer to him, holding your nude form in his lap as he began with your face, and down to your neck, kissing at every mark and bruise he had left during your session.

His breath hitched in his throat, eyes travelling your bruised body as he gently wiped you down, ridding you of the sweat and fluids as your body leaned against him. He gently pushed you back, giving you a sweet kiss to your forehead, to your nose and finally, to your oh so cute, kissable lips.

Pressing his mouth against yours, you tried your best to reciprocate this sudden deep kiss of his. You pulled back, desperate for air as a string of saliva connected your once molding mouths.

A moment passes by as you both stare into each other’s eyes. Unable to resist the lovesick look in your eyes, Alhaitham leaned down to nip at the column of your throat.

“Noooooo…! Ngh, Haitham- Ah! I’m too sore…!”

”Please, darling. Just one more.” A kiss against your cheek. “You look too irresistible right now.”

7:04am

”Stayyyyyy- Don’t leave me, Haitham…”

“Let go. I have to.”

”Noooooooo…! If you love me you’ll stay!”

Alhaitham sighs, “I already skipped my morning workout for you, dear.” He presses a kiss to your forehead as his hands glide across your naked back. So soft, so warm. How could he ever leave the comforts of his bed and embrace of his partner?

Unfortunately, work doesn’t solve itself. (Much to his dismay.) He unlatches himself from you as your hands clawed for the now empty space. He outplayed you.

You pout as you watch your handsome husband search for his work clothes, begrudgingly getting up as well.

At least you can enjoy the view of your husband getting into the shower.

8:12am

“Haitham, you’re going to stain your books.”

“‘’M not, I’m careful.” He retorts with a mumble as he, now carefully places down his mug of bitter coffee and shutting the book after marking the page.

(He knew you were right.)

He takes a bite of the jam-covered toast, nodding his head in appreciation and feeling his heart warm as you set down a plate of sliced zaytun peaches, assembled in a heart shape with an egg done over easy in the middle.

”Thank you, dearest.”

“All for you, honey!” You grin, leaning down and pecking his temple.

His chair scoots ever closer to yours when you settle down with your own plate.

8:31am

Alhaitham hums in content as he feels you place another kiss on his face. His back was hunched, face leaned down to your level as you peppered kiss after kiss on him.

From his hair, to his forehead, his eyes, to his nose, both cheeks-

“You missed a spot.”

“Hmm~? I think you’ve had more than enough now though.” You teased, cupping his face in both your hands as you stared lovingly into equally lovesick teal-orange eyes.

Alhaitham huffs. Brows furrowing as he narrowed his eyes, his hands finding purchase on your hips and pulling you closer towards him.

“‘s not enough…” He mumbled, barely above a whisper as his eyes averted away in bashfulness.

“Haitham, are you pouting?”

”No.” He was now stubbornly trying to turning his head away.

You giggled, before giving in to his demands. Tilting his chin towards you, before peppering his jaw and lips with as many smooches as possible. “Mwah! I’m sorry, mwah, dear! Forgive, mwah, me, okay?”

The red tinted his face, from the tips of his ears to the swell of his cheeks.

“I will if you kiss me again.”

“You’re gonna be late.”

”I’m never late.”

10:47am

And so, here he was, 1 hour and 47 minutes into work. Stacks upon stacks of paperwork. Another bothersome document to read through. Another signature needed.

Another boring day to go through, and another 6 hours and 13 minutes before he could finally get off work and go home to you.

What exactly would you be doing now? Did you go back to sleep? He hopes you were getting enough rest. Perhaps you were cleaning the kitchen with the new cleaner he bought? You’ve been complaining about the stains in the kitchen lately. Or, were you within your shared closet, trying out different outfits? You tended to show him both the bad and good ones you’ve pulled together, giggling and asking for his opinion.

Whatever it was you were up to, it just made him miss you a whole lot more.

12:06am

Lunch time. Another period of free time he looks forward to, where he’s able to pull out a sturdy, sleek green lunchbox that was wrapped in a sickly cute cloth to keep it warm.

He undid the neat little knot at the top, in search of the note you always leave in the lunches you lovingly prepared for him. Alhaitham decides that he definitely won’t make it through the day without your presence.

’Remember to drink more water today!!! I love you Haitham!! More than anything!! And stop frowning, you’ll get wrinkles! I’ll miss you, so come home soon!!’

It was cute. You were cute. The message written was sweet, your name signed at the bottom with various hearts drawn around it. Alhaitham let a smile creep its way onto his face, though he never spoke it, he always replied within his mind.

’I love you too.’

He folded the note and neatly tucked it into his pocket. It was gonna go into his collection. He definitely misses you more now.

5:15pm

”I’m home.” Silence. Alhaitham frowns, setting down his bag by the shoe cabinet as he took off his coat and kicked off his shoes.

The fifteen minutes he took to come home from work was already far too long! How could you not come to see him when all he’s been thinking about all day was you? Alhaitham felt betrayed.

He scoffed, clearing his throat and calling out once again, “I’m home.”

”I’m in the kitchen!” You emerged from the kitchen, not having heard him from the pair of soundproof earpieces lodged in your ear as you placed the pot of curry on the counter.

(A gift from Alhaitham. The earpieces, not the curry.)

“Archons, you won’t die if you aren’t greeted within seconds, Haitham.” You sighed, wrapping your arms around him as you tiptoed to press a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling away.

“I just will if you made me wait that long again.” He pulls you into a searing kiss, arms encircling your waist and pulling you ever closer to him. He reluctantly pulls away, choosing to bury his face into your neck. “I missed you.”

You hummed, stroking his head. “Welcome home, Haitham.”

7:52pm

You waited near the bathroom, ensuring that you heard the sound of the shower starting, before you took your husband’s used clothing from the hamper.

You silently snuck into the laundry room, clothes worn by him today folded into a neat pile that was held right up against your chest.

Cautiously checking that the showering was still running and hadn’t yet stopped, you released a breath you didn’t know that you were holding.

Time for your nightly routine.

You placed the pile down by the laundry counter, holding up his shirt, staring lovingly at it before you closed your eyes and deeply inhaled the scent of your beloved partner.

Don’t get yourself wrong, you had always loved how Alhaitham’s scent, it was clean and refreshing, akin to a forest after a gentle rain shower. It was apparent in places his frequented, the couch, pillows, the clothing in his closet. However, it was something about the potency of the scent after they’ve been worn by him that drew you in, that made you sick with love.

You absolutely loved sniffing his used clothing before you washed them. They smelled divine.

You buried your face into his shirt, cuddling yourself into the article of clothing that had been absorbing his sweat the whole day. Unfortunately for you, you forgot to refill the shampoo today.

”Darling? I think we ran out of- What are you doing?”

You let out a squeak of surprise.

8:34pm

You gently rubbed the towel into his head, trying to wring out the wet droplets from his damp hair. Alhaitham sat upon the edge of your shared bed, eyes scanning the words of his book that was held in his lap as you continued your administrations.

All of a sudden, you stopped. Your arms wrapped around his waist from behind, taking this chance to feel up your muscular husband’s well contoured body. You buried your face into his neck, taking in his smell.

”What? Was the shirt not enough?” A tease. You narrowed your eyes.

”I’m just taking this chance to appreciate my beautiful husband~!”

”Sniffing my sweaty shirts and groping my abdominals are a form of strange appreciation then.” You could just hear the smirk in his voice. Oh, he was never going to let you live your recently discovered secret down.

You weren’t a creature of revenge. You never held grudges against others, nor do you wish suffering upon them. Though, just this once, punishment was in order. Punishment for the sleepless nights he gave you, punishment for making your body sore and punishment for teasing you.

”If you needed my used clothing so bad, I could- OW! Did you just- bite me?”

You had chomped down on the side of his neck, not hard enough to actually hurt, but hard enough to leave the light imprint of your teeth on him.

“Oops! Sorry Haitham, you were just so cute sitting there that you made my cuteness aggression act up!”

10:30pm

You were barely awake, head atop on your husband’s shoulder as you both lay side by side on the bed, blanket lazily draped over your legs as both of your arms were wrapped around one of his.

You weren’t exactly reading the book he held in his hands, but you were watching his face.

Despite his lack of expressions, with eyes glued to his book, lips relaxed in a line and reading glasses atop his nose, he was so cute. You were definitely sure your husband was the most adorable when engrossed in his literature.

And when he would avert his eyes from the words to meet your own gaze? That smile he would give you as he leaned down to kiss your forehead? Perfect. Your husband was arguably, if not, the best in the world.

(In your opinion, that is. Not that you would choose to marry anyone else. Ever.)

Alas, it was a shame you weren’t able to stay up forever to watch your him. If you could, you would do away with sleep, choosing to spend the extra time you have to simply bask in the wonderful existence that was Alhaitham.

“Are you feeling sleepy already, dear?”

You let out a tired hum, your hold around his arm loosening as your head fell onto your pillow.

Alhaitham shut his book, marking the page with the bookmark of a dried qingxin* flower.

(A gift you had made especially for him.)

Switching the lamp off, he laid down next to you, turning on his side and bringing you closer to him. A kiss on your forehead.

”I love you.” A confession of love whispered under the darkness that engulfed the room.

”I love you too.” Requited.

#al haitham x reader #alhaitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham fluff #genshin x reader #whalewrites #genshin fluff #whalegenshin #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact

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aeon-borealis · 8 months

Text

I'm trying to get back into fic-writing. There's an idea dump for "One Word: Revenge" sitting in my drafts and I'm really hoping to get that one started before October 31.

My latest attempt at writing anything AleHeather is based on an ask I got awhile ago about Heather cheering up Alejandro. Honestly, I want the full fic done before answering it. For some context, Alejandro and Heather are in their late twenties and living together.

Here's what I have so far:

At the beginning of the week, Alejandro had been as clean-cut, attentive, and affectionate as ever. He enjoyed doing small things like opening the door when Heather took off for work, breakfast in bed, covering her shoulders with his cardigan if she dozed off in the armchair. But as the week wore on, it was a miracle if he peeled himself out of bed before noon. It started with his shirts slowly covering up more skin. He’d progressed from shirt collars with four buttons undone to a food-stained tank top.

His hair was up more often and there were more flyaways and dandruff than the day before. Oatmeal with peach slices or berries was switched out for bowls of Heather’s Cheerios. He’d even grabbed the cheat day chocolate corn flakes. He hated chocolate. Yet the man that gave Blue Apron meal kits a run for their money was scraping the sides of a bowl with cocoa-drenched milk and soggy scraps of cereal stubbornly clinging to the ceramic.

Heather scrunched her brow. She wasn’t good at this. Out of everybody she knew and gave a shit about, Alejandro was one of only two people she could have intimate conversations with. And usually, he took the initiative and started said difficult conversations when they needed to. Something was fucked enough that he wasn’t willing to launch that attempt; either that, or he didn’t have the energy? Heather was wondering if he might be depressed?

She wouldn’t be surprised. She definitely was, but by her therapist’s definition, they were both high-functioning. No...the horrible honest truth was that she was stubbornly brute-forcing her way through trauma while Alejandro had immediately sought out meds, therapy, and approaching his issues with a fine-toothed comb. The man knew how to play the long game even when it seemed like life was fucking him extra hard.

“Alejandro….?” Her throat felt like it was full of extra thick tar.

“Hrmmm…” When he looked up, it was hard to not just stare at the deep eye bags and extra forehead wrinkles.

“Are you okay?”

Alejandro looked at her for a long few seconds, blinked, and groaned. He ran his fingers through hair at the base of his neck as he shook his head. “No.”

At that, she waited. She met his eyes and when it became excruciating to keep looking into that goose egg green, she moved her gaze between his thick brows. Despite herself, she felt the impulse to chase down a pair of tweezers and start plucking at the more unkempt hairs. How many small things did he do that she was only now becoming painfully aware of? The list was growing longer and becoming a weight pressing down on her shoulders.

“Ah….” She rolled her hand in what she hoped was a “go on…” gesture.

“I answered your question. I’m not okay.”

“Yeah…?”

He rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to his pathetic cereal scraps.

“Alejandro….” Heather used a stern tone of voice.

He looked at her briefly, lips drawn into an intense scowl. For a moment, he was winding up to say something from how his shoulders moved and brows carved into his face. Just as quickly, he turned back away. Shoulders slumped. The spoon stopped picking at the bowl. Then he turned again but Heather saw this utterly defeated look cross his face before it was just his back.

Frustrated, she picked up her bowl, scooped up his bowl and walked past him into the kitchen. Her heart ached as she looked at him again in the other room. While he was only a few steps away, the distance felt like miles from the Arctic breeze wafting off of him.

Everything about his closed-up posture screamed “fuck off.” Heather was way too familiar with people turning their backs to her or pretending she was invisible. Every instinct was itching to stomp over, grab Alejandro’s shoulder, spin him around, and scream in his face. Scream until her face turned bright red.

Instead, she sighed heavily and quickly sped out of the room.

----

“It’s been awhile! I’m happy to hear from you, Heather.”

Heather wished she had an old cord phone instead of a glorified Star Trek brick so she had something to fidget with right now.

“How are-?” There was a loud scream and several giggles in the background. Carlos shushed and spoke softly to a small babbling child before he returned and cleared his throat. “Sorry. I’m in the middle of babysitting my niece. Athena’s taking over in a few minutes, so bear with me.”

“I can’t wait for your own little gremlins!” Heather started pulling at the rubberband around her wrist. She didn’t pick at her nails for years, but then she met Alejandro’s brother’s fiance Athena. She was a ball of anxious energy with a high-pitched voice; the kind of person Heather judged harshly, the kind of person she would have demolished on Total Drama. Instead, they bonded over Athena’s huge stash of glitter pens and somehow, Heather found the older sister she never knew she wanted. It was Athena’s fault that Heather was back to fighting that terrible nail-picking habit she thought she’d conquered at age nine.

“They’ll be visiting Aunty Heather often,” Carlos chuckled. “So, what’s up?”

“How do I put this?” Heather groaned. “Alejandro’s pretty much shut down. He’s letting himself go. Like, not doing his hair and wearing sweats all the time. It’s...kinda how you described happened after World Tour?”

Carlos hissed and took a long breath.

“Make sure World of Warcraft isn’t installed on his computer…”

“He only has Zelda games and some DDR like stuff.”

#aleheather #alejandro x heather #tdwt alejandro #tdwt heather #total drama world tour #total drama heather #fanfic #aleheather fanfic #to be continued #draft

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archiveikemen · 1 year

Text

Jude Jazza Bond Story: Level 9

— Love Tactics

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by playing their games and buying stories. Not 100% accurate, expect mistakes.

read this before interacting with my posts

Jude: Ah—... we’re being stalked. I have no idea which one it is this time, there are too many.

Jude: On the count of three, run into that alley. Got it? 1… 2… 3!

Jude: Haah… they couldn't have picked a worse timing. I was about to receive some cargo — what are you staring at?

…

Option 1: “What do you think of me?”

Jude: That’s the kind of question a dying person would ask. If you didn't matter to me, I would've ditched you at the roadside just now.

Jude: … What a weak response. You’re supposed to smile.

…

Option 2: “Don’t die, yeah?”

Jude: That’s my line. Remember that you still owe me a slice of peach.

…

Option 3: “Will you be heartbroken if I die?”

Jude: That question pisses me off. Do you think you’ll be the only one dying when you’re with me?

Jude: If you die, I’ll be dead too.

…

Jude: Why do you look that happy… you’re truly beyond saving.

Jude: … Tch, they’ll find us if we spend too much time chit chatting. Come on, let’s get the hell out of here.

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #otome #ikevil bond #jude bond story

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cosmo-production · 8 months

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mario + rabbids incorrect quotes vol:2

*The Squad is on a hike* RL: It’s beautiful out here. peach: And quiet. RL: Too quiet. peach: Did we lose someone? *cut to edge with a bear in a headlock*

peach: Rabbid luigi is a perfect cinnamon scone who’s never done anything wrong in their entire life! RM: Never done anything wrong?! They set a city block on FIRE!

mario & RR:*Playing video games* peach: You guys woke up at 5:30 in the morning just to play games? mario: *silence* RR: *silence* peach, finally figuring it out: ...You two never went to sleep, did you? mario & RR in shame: Yeah...

peach: Okay, what does A stand for? RL: Arson. peach: Aw, you're so good. Okay! B! What does B stand for? RL: Barson. mario: *laughter* peach: What stands for C? RL: Commit arson. mario: Oooo. peach: D! RL: Don't come near me, I'm going to commit arson. mario: *more laughter*

RM: We are gathered here today because someone- *glares at luigi’s coffin* -couldn’t stay alive!

Computer: Please enter a password. Rm: *types in edge* Computer: Your password is too weak. Rm: How f?$$ing DARE YOU-

RP: Yeah, but let's not get too crazy. *The gang proceeds to get arrested for blocking the road in large traffic cone costumes

RM, trying their first ever cup of coffee: I am ENERGY! peach, an avid coffee drinker, on their twelfth cup of the day: Someone slap me awake or I am literally going to fall into a coma in ten seconds.

RM: Come on edge, do it for our friendship. You can't put a price on that... edge: Yes I can, 8 dollars.

mario: If you put a milkshake in one yard and crack open a cold one in another yard, which yard would the boys go to? RP: Schrödinger's boys. luigi: MARIO WTH RL: What about cracking open a cold milkshake? RM: As we all know, the milkshake brings the boys to the yard. The presence of the boys is a prerequisite for the cracking open of a cold one, but cold ones do not have any inherent boy-attracting abilities. Milkshakes, however, do. RM: All else being equal, the boys would proceed to the milkshake yard. While it is possible to announce the presence of cold ones in the hope of attracting some boys, the pull of the milkshake is much more powerful by comparison. mario: ... RP: ... luigi: ... RL: ... RM: Mind you, all of this nonsense hinges on whether or not the boys are back in town.

peach, teaching RP to drive: Okay, you're driving and mario and RM walk into the road. Quick, what do you hit? RP: Oh, definitely RM. I could never hurt mario. peach, massaging their temples: The brakes. You hit the brakes.

RM: Your lover doesn't have the mental strength to caramelize onions. RL: Your lover thinks it takes 5-10 minutes to caramelize onions. luigi: Who's caramelizing onions? Have you sociopaths forgotten that apples exist? RM: Do you think caramelizing onions is putting caramel on onions?

hold on stop the quotes for a second, THATS NOT HOW IT WORKS!? caramelizing doesnt mean putting carmel on it? I've been calling caramelizing when I put caramel on ice cream

back to regular program~

RM: As usual, RM has to save the day! edge: As usual, edge has to hear about it

peach: That’s the key slice of truth we need to complete the entire truth pie. RR: Ooh, can we get some actual pie? peach: I like the way you think.

mario: *shatters a window and climbs through it* mario: *turns around and helps RL through it* Breaking and entering is wrong RL. RL: Okay.

edge: All of your existences are confusing. The Squad: How so? edge: Your presence is annoying, but the thought of anything bad happening to any of you upsets me.

peach, texting group chat: What flavour of ice cream do you guys want? I’m at the store so be quick! RL: Moose Tracks is good! RR: What the bawh is that!? RL: *Gasp* How dare you insult moo- RR: No. No no not that. What the hell. Why do you spell flavor like flavour. It’s like you have flavor but then this guy shows up and is like “Oui Oui Would you like chocolate flaVOUR or vanilla flaVOUR. peach and RL: what? RR: I don’t get it why add the EXTRA u when it’s PERFECTLY FINE AS IT IS!? peach: You done now? RR: Yeah ok. peach and RL: ... RR: ...Can I have the Mint Chocolate chip flavour?

*RM and RR are fighting* edge, taking aspirin: I have a headache! Can you guys just be cool?! *RM and RR start fighting while wearing sunglasses and riding skateboards*

RP: What the hell is wrong with you? RM: I have this weird self-esteem issue where I hate myself but still think I’m better than everyone else.

RM: *spits mouthful of blood onto floor* You’ve become far more powerful since we last crossed paths. Dentist: Please stop, there’s literally a sink right next to you.

mario, opening a Capri Sun: Guess I'll drink my sorrows away.

peach: Would it be discrimination to only hire employees at my doughnut shop who have the same name? RP: Legally, I don't believe that breaches any discrimination laws. Morally though... I don't know. peach: I believe god is on my side when it comes to Duncans' Doughnuts.

edge: Let's all agree that going up the stairs on all fours is actually the best experience on earth. RR: Conversely, going down the stairs on all fours is actually the most terrifying experience on earth.

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astudyincontrasts · 2 years

Note

Drabble request:

Not sure why I'm sending this anonymously. You know who this is. Feel free to call me out and tease me mercilessly. Also this was technically your idea, but I demand it (please!) in drabble format.

Sevika loses a bet w/ reader, resulting in Sevika having to don a sexy maid dress while dusting Silco's office (while he's present ofc, because duh!). This may or may not lead to Sevika taking out her anger and embarrassment on reader via sexy times.

Please and thank you! 🖤

I'm dying with joy that I get to do this. Based upon THIS art.

Sevika and reader from @abitohoney 's fic Submit which just updated with Chapter 9 today! (Existing consensual sub/dom relationship, bondage, rough foreplay, spanking)

Sevika x Fem!Reader slightly NSFW

"No."

"Yes!"

"No. Absolutely not. You cheated!" For as long as you'd known her you'd never seen fear touch Sevika's face, never once known those grey eyes of hers to fill with panic like they were in this moment. She was trying to cover it up with her habitual gruffness and rough temper but that façade had slipped and clattered to the floor as those wide pewter eyes flicked from her cards to yours and back again over and over. Willing herself to be having some kind of stroke or delusion.

"Cheated how? I'm naked. You've won every hand. Just not this one." This wasn't exactly the outcome you'd envisioned when you'd suggested the pair of you play strip cards after she'd begrudgingly taught you her favorite game. This was even better.

Sevika stood and for a second you felt sure she was going to kick the chair she'd sat in at the wall. Her panicked rage had you grinning all those perfect, white, Piltover dentistry teeth up at her as you leaned back on the bed, unabashed in all your naked glory, knowing it was just one more twist of the screw. She'd been a single hand of cards away from winning some truly wicked favors from you. And lady luck had instead finally deigned to kiss your cheek instead.

"I am not. I am not doing this." She fumed, staring at you. Delicious, delectable to watch pleading seeping under the bravado of trying to boss her way out of her loss. Like if she couldn't intimidate you out of collecting your due then she might actually be willing to beg. Now that was an interesting notion. Her on her knees for once instead of you. Hm. Nah. You wanted to see this happen. Time to cut your lovely brute down to size a little.

Besides, a touch of humility never hurt anyone. You should know, she'd sure given you a healthy dose or twenty of your own.

"Renegging on a bet?? You know... I heard that's real frowned upon in The Last Drop. I remember the last guy who did that... oh man. What happened to him again? Oh yeah. Lost the use of his left nut. Tch. And now no one will let him in so much as a wager on the weather let alone play cards with him. Given your lack of uh... nuts... and the fact this was a private game I'm sure that the regulars won't try anything drastic. Plus you could take em all anyhow. But. Oh man... Think of the stain on your reputation? Sevika lost fair and square and then she refused to pay up - "

"Enough." Silco's second snapped, throwing up both hands in exasperation. As irritated as ever with your stream of consciousness overflowing its banks. "For the love of Janna, just. Stop talking. I'll do it."

The smile you offered her was sweet as a slice of peach pie as you rocked knees open and closed in a slow butterfly. Just to tease. Then slid to the edge of the bed and began pulling articles of your clothing back on.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Sevika’s boots came to a stop in your line of vision on the floor, the toe of one settling over your discarded pants.

“Getting dressed, duh. You lost sweetheart. Everything. That’s what double or nothing means. Not my fault I didn’t have double the clothes to take off for you. Now.” You gritted teeth and yanked those pants out from under her boot, pitching back on the bed as they finally gave into your hands. “I got a little purchase to make for you.”

The bruiser groaned and dropped back into her seat, elbows upon those thick thighs that you so adored, head in her hands.

For a split second you wanted very badly to take pity on her. To leave off getting dressed and go over, cradle her face up and try, just try to kiss her if she’d let you. Tell her you’d let her slide if she’d only be sweet to you tonight. Nah. You hopped up and into those tight pants, jumping a little for joy and a little to get them over your hips. Pulled on top, grabbed boots, knives and wallet and headed for the door.

“Be back soon!”

She dropped her hands to watch you yank the door open, pause and blow her a kiss. Pale teeth bared in a silent snarl behind those pretty dark lips.

»»————-　♔　————-««

The blessed silence of an uneventful evening had settled over Silco’s office, left him to his work in peace for once. No fires to put out either literal or figurative, no irritating interruptions or minor inconveniences his underlings ought to be able to handle on their own but somehow always needed his attention to resolve.

A forgotten cigar smoldered in the ashtray, nearly an inch and a half of cylindrical ash at the end of it, cherry fitfully ready to extinguish from neglect as the thin wisps of smoke curled upward in pungent incense as his pen scratched away on the paper. The door to the office creaked open and he only cast it a passing glance.

Stopped. Looked up again.

Sevika was edging in the half opened door, acting like she’d use the bulwark of it as a shield for as long as humanly possible before she had to come all the way into the room. It was safe to say in all the time he’d known Sevika - pretty much the entirety of their adult lives at this point - he’d not once, never, known a single moment his second in command had worn a dress.

Let alone one black, exceedingly short, puffy sleeved, frilly with stiff crinoline, cut low in front and...yes. With a little white pinafore apron. Even her dark hair, which he largely suspected she frequently cut herself with a knife slightly too dull to do the job properly, even her hair had been brushed to a high gloss sheen and done back in her habitual half up style with a plush lacy white bow. Muscular legs remarkably handsome in dark stockings with their suspenders peeking out from under crinoline fluff, and the uncomfortable clomp of high heels.

She held a feather duster in one hand with the mien like she’d find a way to make a weapon of it somehow.

Steel grey eyes refused to meet his, trained on the far corner of the room, like she’d just ignore his presence entirely. He knew her better though. And teal eye narrowed as she inevitably snuck a glance at him that quickly flitted away hard and fast. Just enough time to arch one dark brow at her before she shut the door.

His blind reach for the whiskey glass was slow, the kind of unhurried movement one might use in order not to startle a wild animal, and he brought it to his mouth as mismatched gaze tracked her. Noted her resigned sigh before the graceless clomp in those heels toward his chifforobe and bookcases. And she began to dust with that feathered little mop. Dust like she’d prefer to set the whole office on fire instead.

And Silco went silently back to his paperwork. Pen scratching away studiously as she slowly made her way around the room. Dusting. Respectful silence strained to the snapping point until...

“Lost a b-”

“Yes of course I lost a bet.” She cut him off sharply.

Watched his head tilt slightly as he kept eyes on the papers in front of him. Could feel him failing to repress a snide grin she couldn’t see from this angle half behind him. Clomp clomp clomp. The rest of the ‘dusting’ was done in a hateful hurry, practically knocking over a lamp and various other trinkets in her desire to just be done with this humiliation.

To his credit Silco managed to wait until she’d sashayed her clomping way out and shut the door behind her before resting his forehead on fingertips and letting teal eye shut as shoulders lifted in perfectly silent mirth. He had a good inkling exactly who was the winner of this little wager - and good on her. He’d never thought that mouthy little Piltie runt of an assassin would have had in in her... but then again. Well, it was good to know your employees. Have a grasp of their capabilities. He sorted through the pile of books to one side of his desk, pulled a ledger free and flipped it open, made a notation on a page and then flipped it shut. Thought for a second and then opened it again, to a page much closer to the front. Made an entirely different notation on this one and smiled thinly to himself.

Good for her.

»»————-　♔　————-««

Ugh, to have been there! A fly on the wall. That was the only thing you regretted in all this; that you had to satisfy yourself with imagining exactly what was going down in Silco’s office right now. Sevika would never give you the scoop on what went down and you certainly would never ask the boss how he liked having his office cleaned as a result of your little bet.

So you lay back on your bed, hands laced behind your head, one leg propped and bouncing on the bent up knee of the other, grinning like an idiot at the ceiling as you enjoyed each possible scenario that could be happening. Except for the ones where your little prank got Sevika fired. Silco may be a terrifying, violently tempered bastard but you’d seen and heard enough to know the boss also had a rather surprising wicked sense of humor, particularly when it came to the humiliation of others. Besides, Sevika was his right hand and he was no fool. She’d be fine.

Your door opened and slammed shut, jerking you out of your happy reverie with a little jump to find Sevika glowering at you, stance spread, feather duster gripped like a knife, expression black as a thundercloud.

She kicked her heels across the room hard enough they left twin little dents in the wall.

Hands slid from behind your head as you propped yourself up on elbows and offered her your biggest, shit-eatingest grin. She pointed the feather duster at you, sterling eyes narrowed sharply.

“Not one bloody word.”

“How’d it go?” You ignored her command delightedly. Had her snarling and advancing on you.

You scrambled, trying to get off the bed and make a break for it. Yelping as she got hold of your ankle and dragged you back, flipped you on your stomach and pinned you down, one knee to the small of your back.

“How’d it go?” She mimicked you with a high little irritating voice, and you could feel her shifting over you as you struggled, weight pressing you ever harder into the mattress. A second later that white pinafore and its long ribbons were winding around your wrists and then looping them together to the headboard, punishingly tight.

“You have any idea how long it took me to build the reputation I have in this organization? How much shit I have to take on a daily basis? No of course you don’t little brat. All you do is run that mouth of yours and occasionally get real stabby when Silco needs someone killed quick and doesn’t care how messy it is.”

“Hey now-!” Look she could be mad, but you were good at your job too.

Sevika’s mouth was next to your ear in a heartbeat and she had it in her teeth. Crushing the tender shell of it, tugging like she’d bite it off.

“If you’re smart, princess, you’ll shut the hell up. Right now.” She snarled, never once releasing that bite until you whimpered a mute agreement, unable to even nod with the grip her teeth had. They released and you gasped against the flooding fire of delicious pain left behind.

The weight of her knee left the small of your back and you could hear the snap of suspenders as she yanked stockings off, only to use each one to tie round an ankle of yours and lash them to the foot of the bed, spread eagle lower half.

Only then she got up off the bed and shed the rest of that silly maid outfit, had you groaning as she flung it on the floor. She really had looked adorable in it. Just... the kind of adorable of an apex predator in pink bows. Deadly cute. The open flat of her hand caught the curve of your ass a sharp slap. Hard and sudden enough to have you nearly swallow your tongue, and thank fuck it wasn’t her prosthetic hand she’d chosen to spank you with.

You’d elected to await her return in the cheekiest pair of simple black underwear you had and your usual dark shirt. No bra. Comfy. Unfortunately also excellent target practice for that open palm of hers as she took the edge off by absolutely whaling your backside until you were struggling to escape each new slap, skin hot fire gone from pink to hot flush red you could feel. Bottom on absolute fire. Her final slap had tears stinging your eyes as you writhed forward with a keening little strangled noise.

“Don’t go soft on me, princess.” She murmured overhead, hand reaching to take a generous grasp of one burning cheek and kneed the sting of it slowly. Damn you, you lifted into it, trying to peek over a shoulder at her, caught her smiling darkly and knew you were well and truly fucked. Still, unwilling to break that command not to speak. You liked having two ears, thanks.

“You aren’t getting off easy this time.”

The bed dented on either side of you as Sevika settled weight on her knees straddled over you, metallic fist landing in the soft of the mattress beside your face. Had you blinking at the dangerous machinations and soft whirring clockworkings of it even as you felt her other hand slide under you, up under your shirt. And the second she got a cup of one bare breast you shuddered, arched up as best you could, silly thing, to give her more space.

Only to be rewarded with an agonizing twisting pinch of one tender nipple that had your mouth dropping open and a shudder wringing through you from tip to toes. Her rich voice chuckled softly overhead before her mouth pressed between your shoulder blades over the runched up fabric of your shirt. Fingers merciless. Tugging, teasing, the little bite of her thumbnail digging into that singing, sensitive nub. Your eyes were rolling back in your head, hips bucking against the bed, feet kicking against the soft give of the stocking restraints. None of it stilled that delicious torment.

“Hope you had time to rest up while I was out embarrassing myself, princess.” The press of her mouth strayed up to the nape of your neck, breath a wash over skin before she sunk possessive teeth in slow, like she’d scruff you no different than a big cat with prey. “You’ll have no sleep tonight.”

#sevika #drabble #drabble request #crack drabble #sevika x reader #sevika arcane #sevika arcane x reader #arcane #arcane fic #arcane drabble #sevika drabble #sevika crack fic

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always-andromeda · 2 years

Text

How Dano Characters Would Play Stardew Valley Part I | Dano!Characters x GN!Reader

Dano!Characters x GN!Reader

Author's Note | I mentioned that I had this idea to the groupchat girlies and they were super encouraging about it; so...this exists now. I just wanted to jot down some wholesome thoughts to give myself a little bit of a break from fulfilling milestone requests. I also just know way too much about this game and it really shows. Part II of this will be posted tomorrow!!

Warnings | spoilers for Stardew Valley? overall, this is pure fluff!

✰ Alex Jones/Barry Milland ✰

Alex gets very fixated on the game. It's just so calming to him. Expect him to be playing it for literally hours on end, completely avoiding any other responsibility he might have.

He likes planting and picking flowers. No matter how much you tell him that they just aren't profitable, he just loves how pretty they are. He also loves planting strawberries in the Spring.

All of his animals are at full friendship levels with him because he is so diligent at keeping them fed and petting them every single day.

Alex choses a cat for his pet and absolutely goes with naming them after some sort of food. Think something along the lines of Peach, Pumpkin, or Blueberry.

He deliberates for a very long time before choosing to marry Penny. He just thinks that she's so kind and her home life reminds him a lot of what his own looked like when he was younger. When she asks him what theme he'd like her to renovate the bedroom with, he chooses the strawberry theme, of course.

Alex gets a little intimidated by some of the other characters like the Wizard, Hayley, Kent, and Shane. He just doesn't get why they have to be so cold and never really gets higher than two hearts with them.

His favorite villager ever is Willy. He's not particularly good at fishing, but he makes it part of his routine to fish with Willy whenever he's outside of his fishing store.

✰ Calvin Weir-Fields ✰

Right off the bat, Calvin absolutely spoils the Stardew Valley experience. He's incredibly impatient and skips through most heart events and cutscenes. Within hours of starting the game, he's consulting the wiki.

He has a weird dislike for Elliott. Especially if you have any interest in the character. Calvin will fish just to acquire garbage that he then gifts to Elliott.

Calvin marries Leah. A red headed artist who has a bad ex? Yeah, that sounds pretty familiar. You know Calvin is zeroed in on this poor girl. When Leah paints the portrait of Marnie, Calvin chooses the Classic Country Portrait.

He would be okay with having the two children but gets so annoyed with having them run around his house (it throws off the aesthetic) that he'd turn them into doves and only feels bad about it when Leah asks about having children again.

He's decent with the farming and everyday upkeep of the farm but he doesn't see much of a point in the slice of life narrative. He needs an objective. So he just puts all his focus on making as much money as possible.

He gets really good at making jellies, wines, and caviar that he then sells. He tries to get into caring for the animals so he can make cheese, mayo, oil, and fabric but he's not nearly attentive enough to the animals.

This man goes days without feeding the animals and rarely remembers to pet them. He also goes nuts when he gets to name them. He has theming for basically all of the different types of animals. For example, all of the cows are named after gems.

Calvin gets pretty sick of the game pretty quickly though. He'll get bored with the unending nature and the second he puts it down, there's a good chance that he'll simply never pick it back up again.

✰ Dwayne Hoover ✰

Dwayne mostly prefers mining and combat to farming. He's fairly good at the combat aspect, actually.

Also loves being able to enchant his weapons at the Forge on Ginger Island. He has chests full of various weapons (that he never uses) but he still loves collecting them all.

He's scarily good at navigating the Skull Caverns. He has a fully enchanted Galaxy sword and absolutely kills it with his reflexes, killing monsters left and right and getting all of the best loot.

If Dwayne could insert himself into Sebastian, Sam, and Abigail's friend group, he absolutely would.

He also has such a soft spot for the Junimos and tries his damn best to finish the Community Center so they can be freed. If he could punch Morris the way that Pierre can when the Community Center is finished, he would also do that.

At first he says that he's going to stay single in the game. But Krobus? He absolutely strives to get Krobus to move into his farm. He feels bad that Krobus can't go outside and mostly stays indoors.

On rainy days though, Krobus will tell his character, “Ever since I left my people, I've been searching for a new home...now I belong somewhere. That means everything to me.” This makes Dwayne shed a few tears that he will fervently deny.

✰ Edward Nashton ✰

When he first discovers the game, he thinks he's going to be normal about it. He's just going to try it out. But like with everything else in his life, he gets fixated fast.

He dedicates hundreds of hours into the game and creates a dozen different save files. This is because he wants to explore the game to its fullest potential but doesn't want to get bored by playing on the same save file.

Edward marries basically everyone at some point but he definitely has his favorite storylines. His favorites: Abigail (he gets to be her protector when she starts out in the mines and she literally kills for him; what a queen), Sebastian (maybe he reminds him of a certain emo bat boy but maybe he's thinks it's cool that he's drummer, we'll never know), and Penny (she takes care of children, maybe she'll take care of him).

But the marriages are the least of his interests, to be very honest. He hops from spouse to spouse on different save files anyways. For the most part, he loves the mystery; or he likes uncovering mysteries.

He's not great at combat but he loves exploring the mines and finding new pieces of loot to collect.

He collects all the shiny things he finds; both gems and museum items. He'd make his own museum in a giant shed on the farm even though it doesn't do anything to make him money. He just likes keeping little trinkets!

That being said, he hoards basically everything and has chests full of resources that he can never possibly use all of. He spends hours on this game? Of course he's loaded on resources and mostly broke on the majority of his save files. But he wouldn't have it any other way.

✰ Eli Sunday ✰

Eli has a massive savior complex going into it. Shane and Pam are massive red flags for him. He tries going after Shane until he realizes that it's going into a romantic direction. The internalized homophobia has him reeling away and going straight to saving Pam.

This puts him directly in front of Penny. Penny intrigues him. She's quiet, meek, and cares for the town's children. She's the quiet and submissive wife of his little Christian boy dreams.

Eli absolutely tramples over poor Penny. He just gives her poppies continually until she has enough hearts for him to marry her. The second they're married, he kind of forgets she exists and doesn't really notice that the heart levels can deteriorate.

That doesn't matter though. Father Eli has some money to make! This man wants to maximize his profits in any way that he possibly can.

Starfruit absolutely changed the game for him. He's got his math down exactly right. This is the kind of guy who would write down all of his math and work out the numbers.

He absolutely names his farm Eden and names all of the animals biblical names.

Eli loves having a farm that looks rich and lush. He fills the entire space with barns, coops, fruit trees, and squares of crops all being watered with iridium sprinklers. This farm is his virtual paradise and it really shows.

✰ Hank ✰

Hank has a somewhat normal attachment to this game at first. But it truly is incredibly comforting for him.

Socializing in real life and having his own experiences are kind of difficult for him to manage. So the game is a nice, relaxing reprieve from the anxiety and dread he carries with him every day.

When it comes time to choose a pet, Hank goes with a dog. Specifically the floppy eared brown dog. He’d name it something unbearably sweet like Honey or Chocolate.

Hank finds solace in the story and the intimate moments between the NPCs. He loves the bonds that he can create with each of the townies and finds things that he can like about basically all of them (however, he isn't a huge fan of Pierre, Pam, and Morris, of course).

He loves fishing, foraging, and farming the most. Mining isn't his strongest suit, but he can manage well enough to get rocks and ores. Just don't expect him to go venturing into the Skull Mines more than once or twice.

The greenhouse is his favorite place on the farm. He grows flowers and plants fruit trees along the sides. Sometimes he just likes sitting in there for a few seconds, just to ground himself.

The storylines of each NPC is far more important than money making to Hank.

He dates basically all of the marriage candidates, but he is thoughtful enough to acquire a rabbit's foot so he avoids being slut shamed by the boys and girls.

Hank doesn't get married, though. He loves all of the marriage candidates and their storylines pretty much equally and can't commit to one. But he lets Krobus move in in a heartbeat. It just makes sense to him.

Krobus is a little strange to him and it takes a while for him to warm up to the monster. But as soon as he does, they're thick as thieves.

Hank actually finds it hilarious that he decorates his house in such a classical manner with fireplaces and bookshelves and everything while simultaneously having Krobus' little dungeon room added on to the side of the house.

✰ Jay ✰

Like Alex, Jay adores the animals and keeps them at full friendship levels at all times. He has the most trouble naming them, though, because he'll spend minutes just thinking about what he should call each animal.

He eventually settles on a human name theme. He'll call them just regular people names like Burt, Steve, or some goofy name. This is because he believes it gives them a level of respect that you cannot get from naming an animal after an inanimate object or anything else. Ideally, he wouldn't want to name them at all because, "Who am I to dictate their identity?"

The animals are there purely for a good time. He absolutely doesn't harvest anything from them and actually loses money getting wheat for them so they can eat every day. This man would have no food in his fridge, low energy, no health and he'd still be running to Marnie's to spend his last few gold on getting some wheat.

On many occasions, he has not gotten home on time and passes out at two in the morning at some random place in the forest. This is because he's obsessed with foraging and will explore every outdoor area to find every forage-able good. This is because he never has any money to actually buy food for himself.

Jay ends up marrying Maru. It's almost accidental. He didn't plan on marrying anyone in the game until he saw her heart event where the player looks at the stars with her. It's such an intimate moment that he is instantly smitten.

He completely commits to Maru when she frees her robotic invention, Marilda. It's a sentiment that he applies with every living being in real life, so of course he goes for her.

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izunias-meme-hole · 1 year

Text

Top 10 Mario Characters (Remake)

Number 1. Bowser - Bowser is a genuinely great villain and fun as hell. Sure, there are a crapton of underrated villains in the Mario series, but no matter what you cannot really hate this guy. He’s a giant fire breathing turtle-dragon who’s a evil king, but he’s also a meathead, arrogant as hell, has very cool boss fights, is a surprisingly good father to his kids, and he’s an amazing protagonist and ally, as shown in games like Bowser’s Inside Story, and the Paper Mario Series. At the end of the day, Bowser is just an entertaining villain and an great character.

Number 2. Wario - Whaddya expect? Wario is a perfect take on an “Mario Double” by not being a literal Evil Mario. He’s just a disgusting, rude, and greedy little bastard man that just so happens to not only look similar to Mario, but is also the exact opposite of everything Mario is! He’s also a game developer, and a treasure hunter, plus his games are actually pretty fun. In other words, Wario for the win!

Number 3. King Boo - The Boo’s are annoying little shits and the cutest enemies in the series, but this guy is legit nightmare fuel and a delightful slice of ham. He captured Mario, he captured Peach, he turned Mario and Peach into paintings, and he went from wanting to capture Luigi to just wanting to outright kill him! Also, much like Bowser, he's consistently entertaining every time he is on screen, and I find it surprising he isn't an Mario RPG villain because he certainly fits that description pretty damn well. Overall King Boo is just a delight to see, and he’s the perfect nemesis for Luigi.

Number 4. Dimentio - Easily the biggest asshole in the Paper Mario games, and the biggest asshole in the whole series. This jester is suave, smug, manipulative, AND sadistic. He feels less like a Mario villain, and more akin to a Final Fantasy or Kirby villain. Also the twist with him betraying Bleck was somehow not the asspull I thought it was when I first played the game, and it was actual kinda built up well throughout the game.

Number 5. The Shadow Queen - The easiest way to describe The Shadow Queen is that she’s a Kirby final boss in a Mario game. Eldrich in nature, terrifying, powerful, and PURE EVIL. Also, despite just being the final boss, her build up is done exceedingly well, so she doesn’t feel out of place either. In short, this ghastly demon queen is so non-Mario as a villain that it works perfectly in her favor.

Number 6. Count Bleck - A well written tragic villain in a Mario game that is also quite the horrifying bastard? HELL YES!

Number 7. Bowser Jr - Bowser Jr is a small gremlin that is on the same level of fun as his father, and is extremely underrated. He’s got some of the most versatile bosses in the series due to his mechs and clown car, is very energetic, and his relationship with his dad is pretty healthy and fun. In short, the son of Bowser is just neat. However his biggest problem is that he's so underutilized in the mainline games, like how does Nintendo hit gold and decide not to use it often.

Number 8. Rosalina - She is beauty, she is grace, she has a sad backstory, she's helpful, she's the mother of these stars that become planets, she's considered to be either a witch or a goddess, and overall out of all the princesses in the series... I don't think we've had one like her. Daisy is outgoing and tomboyish, Peach is more refined, but Rosalina feels like a divine entity mixed with a mother figure who's experienced a lot. Sorry, but top 2 goes to star mom.

Number 9. Princess Daisy - Do I have to explain? Despite only appearing in an obscure ass game and some party games, Daisy is a HUGE contrast to Peach, and it’s in a good way. She’s a tomboy, is loud and proud, and her energy is constantly high as all hell.

Number 10. Princess Peach - When she isn’t being kidnapped by Bowser, she’s actually pretty fun. Sure she lack’s Daisy’s high energy, and is more “girly,” but she’s still got some sass and her own unique type of high energy that is let out in the party games. Also her Mario 64 castle theme is one of the best leitmotif’s in the series.

#bowser #dimentio #rosalina #king boo #count bleck #bowser jr #princess daisy #princess peach #Wario #Shadow queen #super mario bros #luigis mansion #paper mario #ranking

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beantothemax · 23 days

Note

“Ochette, what are you doing?”

Ochette flashed Castti a toothy grin, adjusting where she sat on the floor of Miss Clarissa’s home, braiding Elena’s hair.

It had been a few months since Elena’s rescue, and she was recovering swiftly- no doubt aided by the constant presence of her real father, who was reading a story to her.

If the story sounded awfully familiar to the group’s own, Ochette pretended not to notice.

“Braiding Lena’s hair, Ma! Can I do yours next?”

Castti reached a hand to the bun she always wore, face scrunched in the way Ochette had come to learn meant she was deep in thought.

“Where did you learn to braid?” Thronè asked, coming out of the kitchen with a full pie tin. She had been learning from Miss Clarissa how to bake, and was steadily getting better as the attempts wore on.

“I taught her,” Miss Clarissa said cheerfully as she too exited the kitchen.

What a cheerful bunch they had all become, Ochette thought. Months ago, she never would have thought this sort of outcome possible. Pops had been bent on revenge, Ma had been stumbling along with only half her memories, and Nènè had been almost ready to give up her dream of ‘freedom’.

Now here they were, practically living in Conning Creek. Osvald had his daughter back, Castti had saved an entire kingdom (she still woke up some nights screaming Trousseau’s name, tears in her eyes), and Thronè had gotten her freedom.

Osvald had entire notebooks filled with their stories, and read the more lighthearted of them to Elena often. Castti, though she still dreamt of travelling the continent to continue extending a helping hand, had agreed to take up a temporary position with the Apothecary’s Guild stationed in Conning Creek. Thronè was learning to bake, learning to create rather than destroy. Ochette was learning how to braid hair.

They had all changed, but something told Ochette it was for the better.

Especially when she tied Elena’s braid off with a ribbon and Castti agreed to let her braid her hair and Thronè cut the pie with a dagger once used for cutting throats.

Peach pie. Those always did grow well by the sea, Ochette remembers hearing someone say. She doesn’t remember where she heard it from.

“Elena, would you be a dear and get me a slice of pie?” Castti asked, and Elena smiled and nodded, scampering to her feet and getting a slice of fresh warm pie from the tin.

And so Castti ate pie that Thronè had made while Ochette braided her hair, and Osvald and Elena ate together while she asked him questions about his travels, and Miss Clarissa sat in her old armchair by the fireplace and read a book while sipping tea, seeming quite content to remain quiet in all the chatter that filled her home.

It must have been very lonely for Miss Clarissa, spending so long alone. Now her home was filled with life and love once more, and the smile that always seemed to grace her face told everyone all they needed to know about how she felt about it.

That night, as Thronè and Ochette made their way back to the inn, they talked and laughed and raced all the way to their room (which the innkeeper let them stay in for free, thanks to some strings pulled by Miss Clarissa). Ochette knew she would have to return to Toto’Haha soon, but she could allow herself to have a little bit of fun while she was away.

As she curled up in her bed at the inn, she drifted into a warm dream of eating pie and playing games with her family.

UUEUUEUEUUEEGHHGDGEHHEHEGEE!!,!!,!,!,!:!:!2?$,?:

MAVVIE THIS IS SO SWEET IM GOING TO FUCKING MELT

TH!!!!!!!!!!!!! THE FUCKIGN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!,!,!.!,!!?!!.!,!.!,! THEYM!!!!!!!!!!

#WAUGH!!!!!#VANSTEINS!!!#MY ONE WEAKNESS!!!!!!#asks #adventures-of-turnabout #CASTTI WORKING AT THE APOTHECARY IS A VERY GOOD DETAIL I LIKE THAT A LOT #AND TH #MAV #MAV!!!#inbox fic

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thequeenopower · 2 years

Text

Side Missions ; Dream

3 wagu steaks? Who the hell doordashes 3 wagu steaks?

Well its $20 in my pocket so, why the hell not?

I arrive at the restaurant and wait about 15 minutes since I got there a little early. Once I got the food I headed to the house, which was very far away and in the middle of nowhere. The driveway to the house was long and dropped you off in front of a beautiful 1-story house. Knocking on the door with the bag in my hand, a man with dirty blond hair opened up the door.

"Great! You're here, could you settle a debate between me and my friends?" He asked with a smile, taking the bag from me and opening the door a little wider.

"We're not going to kill you, we promise. It's just that we need a fourth person's opinion on the playback of this race." A brunette said from behind him.

Oh what the hell? It's not like if I did die I'd be leaving anything behind.

I mean I'm a struggling college student whose family lives thousands of miles away. I only have one friend at school and we almost never see each other. I barely make ends meet so if I die by the hands of a couple attractive people, so be it.

"Sure, why not." I walk in and am greeted by a cat and another brunette man.

"I'm Clay by the way, he's Nick and that one's George." George waves from the couch as Nick plops onto it, motioning for me to come over and watch the play-by-play.

"Do you guys want anything with your steaks?" Clay asks from the kitchen which gets George up and moving towards him.

"Okay so, I was placed first place automatically by the game, but Clay swears he was in front of me." Nick starts the video and it tracks the Mario character.

It switches between Mario, which was Nick's character, Princess Peach, which was George's, and Toad, which was Clay's. The cat jumped on top of me just as Mario hit Toad with a shell. Clay must've gotten mad and tried to steer Nick off course because just like that, Clay and Nick were tied again.

"Watch! Watch closely!" Nick practically screamed in my ear, shaking his finger at the screen.

By this time, George and Clay sat down on the couch, Clay sitting next to me and George sitting on the other side of Nick. It was at this moment that everything felt surreal as Clay and Nick argued when Mario and Toad passed the finished line at the same time, though I will say Mario was a pixel ahead of Toad.

"So, who do you think won?" Nick cut me from my thoughts.

"Uh, you?" Nick fist-pumped the air as Clay huffed from beside me, taking the cat from me as it seemed I lost my privilege to touch her.

"Would you like some cake, sorry we never got your name."

"It's y/n. And sure, I'll take a slice." He nods and I follow him to the kitchen where he cuts me a slice and then prepares his steak.

"I'll just get going." I draw out as I slowly make my way towards the front door.

"Are you sure? You can stay and eat your cake, maybe play a round or two on the switch." I debated in my head whether or not I should stay.

~~~~~

The night grew darker as we started another round.

"NO, STOP Y/N!!" George screeches as I hit him with two green shells, one after the other.

Clay cheered me on as I finished the game in first place. Nick huffed and threw his remote down onto the table along with George.

"I better get going you guys, thanks for letting me play." They begged me to stay a little longer but gave up as I put my jacket and shoes on.

Clay walked me out and stayed behind me the entire time, not stopping until we got to my car.

"This was fun, maybe we could do it again sometime?" His tone was hopeful.

"I'd like that." He smiled and handed me his phone to put my number in.

"I'll call you soon." He leaned into my car through the open window as I put it into reverse.

"I'll be waiting."

God this is shitty huh? i just wanted to make something. but eh who cares. this was rushed so I'm sorry for the shitty writing, I'm just now getting back into it. hope you have a good day or night where ever you are <3

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joels6string · 5 months

Note

what do you personally think that tlou2 should've been about? 🤔 i really hope that tlou3 will expand on or flash back to joel before we "met" him because i honestly feel like the things he did weren't that bad, at least not bad enough to warrant the nicknames that he got if you get me.

That’s hard to say. I do like a lot of TLOU II in terms of introducing all these new “factions” of survivors and I think playing on Jackson having to face up against some of these groups would have been fun, there’s no way other groups aren’t trying to infringe on that little slice of paradise. I’m not even against Joel dying, it’s how they did it and then making me play as his murderer as if I gave a fuck about her after that.

Personally, I’d prefer Neil stay away from Joel without anyone else to help him 😂. He’s now scared at least two people off at Naughty Dog, so I’m sure he’s a real peach to work with. If Bruce wants to come back, I’ll take a Joel prequel game from him. If not, Neil can have his third installment of trauma porn. I feel bad for Ellie though. I’m sure he’ll have her dying in the end to make everything worth nothing with Abby elevated as some hero.

I’m pretty sure Joel did terrible things, though 😂😂. Like real bad lmfao. I’m not shaming him and I love a man who has seen the error of his ways, but he’s admitted to killing innocent people in his own Joel way lol.

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aajjks · 3 months

Note

BC!JK

it’s official!

sound the alarm!

you and jungkook are now officially a couple and it’s clear that he’s more ecstatic about it compared to you but you don’t blame him. you are his first girlfriend and he’s been dying to have you all to himself. for majority of the years he’s known you, he wasn’t so kind to you but now he’s your NEW man and he plans on loving you until the end of time. the fruit is sweet but watching jungkook celebrate is even sweeter because he’s your boyfriend now and watching him brag about it is so funny to you.

you’re beginning to think you rubbed off on him because like you, he’s gotten shy while you’ve eased out of your shell. of course there are still moments where his charm returns and he’s back to his sassy, charismatic self but anytime he’s inviting you somewhere or gifting you something, he’s shy.

it’s cute. the both of you are really cute.

“yep, we are officially together” you say as you happily munch on the sliced peach and watch jungkook freak out about the two of you being together because he was convinced that you would say no.

“we don’t have to tell them just yet. let’s wait until we’re a little more comfortable with one another. i want things like kissing and hugging to come normal to us and we’re not there yet. can you wait til then?” you ask with hopes that he won’t be upset at your request. you want things to flow naturally for the two of you because forcing those actions would just make it awkward between the two of you and you don’t want that.

you want to kiss jungkook without feeling like you have to and his mother is someone who is quick to point out what’s being forced and you don’t want that either.

“it’s just…your mother is judgmental and i don’t want her criticizing and critiquing every little thing we do from the way we kiss or the way we look at each other. you understand, right?”

“No no yn you’re completely right! We don’t have to hurry anymore- you’re correct, it should come naturally to us.” Yeah, his mother is very critical and jungkook knows that you are not comfortable enough with him yet.

You agreed to be his girlfriend and that’s more than enough for him, you’re kind enough to actually give him a chance, Jungkook is not going to fuck this up.

But he’s just so happy that you’re his now, you’ve changed, you’re improving yourself, you’re not really stuck on eunwoo anymore and that is a huge feat for you.

He’s so proud of you.

“Trust me we don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, just take your time okey?” He’s exactly not in a hurry to kiss you, he wants to make you fall in love with him first, and then maybe he will be irreplaceable in your life.

Jungkook gets up from his chair and goes to his bedroom quietly, and soon, he’s got sage in his tattooed arms. “Yn look who’s here!!” He coos, she’s gotten so much cuter and it’s safe to say that you’ve turned him into a cat guy as well.

“Say hi to mommy, sage!”

He hopes that you’ll stay for long, maybe you two could watch a movie together or play some board games or his PlayStation!!!

He wants to spend more time with you.

#ask: bc!jk

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babyraccy · 5 months

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HIIIII HIIIIIII :) i hope you are having a good day and if you arent then i hope it gets better <3

hii im kind of meh but im doing a lil better I made myself some tacos and then ate a slice of key lime pie (my favorite) so im happy for now :) im gonna play some games on my ds (maybe shiny hunting or super princess peach) and take a shower before i have to go to work

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olet-lucernam · 6 months

Text

A Hollow Promise [7] chapter ii, part ii

{_[on AO3]_}

main tags : loki x original character, post-avengers 2012, canon divergence - post-thor: the dark world, canon-typical violence, mentions of torture

summary: In the aftermath of the Battle of New York, the Avengers need a few days to build a transport device for the Tesseract. With the Helicarrier damaged and surveillance offline, SHIELD sends an asset to guard Loki in the interim: a young woman who sees the truth in all things, and cannot lie.

Even long presumed dead, her memories lost to her, Loki would know her anywhere.

And this changes things.

Some things last beyond infinity. And the universe is in love with chaos.

(Loki was never looking for redemption. It came as an unexpected side-effect.)

chapter summary : the morning after. loki and his guard play a game of twenty questions.

recommended listening : alrighty aphrodite, peach pit

[PREVIOUS] | [MASTERLIST] | [NEXT]

"You have the first," he said graciously, raising his palm in invitation.

Her eyebrow lifted slightly- but she quickly accepted. Stepping onto the bed, she took a seat on the mattress, legs tucked to the side.

"How much do you know about Earth?" She asked after a moment. "You have excellent literary taste." Her eyes flicked up to him, alluding to the double meaning- to the secret he had encoded for her in Nietzsche and Sun Tzu, warning her. "You knew about Stark Tower. You wore a flawless designer suit in Stuttgart-"

"You noticed it was designer," Loki noted, amused.

"Dolce and Gabanna. The opera scarf was a nice touch. So how much do you know?"

Loki smiled wryly, taking a mouthful of peppermint tea. "More than Thor."

"Why do I get the feeling that's not hard."

He couldn't quite stifle his snicker, the surface of the tea rippling under the sharp breath.

"His interest in Midgard is a recent development. Mine is not. I am not familiar with all of its intricacies, particularly given the cultural plurality of this realm, and the technological advances of the past two decades. But I have spent time here, in the past. Enough to know enough, shall we say."

She nodded in easy acceptance. "Alright. Your turn, then, prince."

Her manner was utterly incautious, relaxed, comfortable even as the bench and the low bed and their natural height difference left Loki towering over her- an implied vulnerability and imbalance, he was certain, that she never would have permitted before.

Why? What changed?

"Have you always been a morning person?"

It was almost worth asking the banal question just to watch the incredulity play across her face, like light on water.

Her thoughts were spectacularly obvious whenever she let them seep to the surface, so utterly unaffected that it was difficult to criticise with any real sincerity- it would be like asking the sun for subtlety.

Despite her reaction, she answered without protest.

"Yes and no. I rise with the sun, so whether I'm a morning person really depends on location and season." Something elusive softened her features, delicate and serene. "I do like mornings. There's something about the world on the cusp of waking- the way it feels crystalised, like existence pausing to draw breath. But I love evenings too- when everything starts to deepen like an incoming tide, and the darkness is so rich you could drink it. I don't think I could choose between them. Maybe that just makes me greedy."

She blinked, refocusing on Loki, and gave a nervous laugh, pulling one knee up to her chest and folding into herself like a nyctinastic bloom.

"Sorry. You weren't asking for a soliloquy."

"I like soliloquies," Loki said warmly, setting the disposable cup aside, "and your thoughts are beautiful."

Her teeth sliced across her lower lip, eyes dipping away, fingers tracing her clavicle.

"What was your first impression of me?"

Loki stilled.

It was a surprisingly self-indulgent question. And loaded- less like dice, and more akin to a heavy calibre gun.

Loki knew that he couldn't lie. His choice was between two truths, each damning in their default, but malleable. Careful phrasing could arc them away into a tangent, and Loki examined each option as though selecting from an assortment of blades.

But then he thought of the scars on her back- visceral, distinctive, nearly impossible to duplicate- and in a moment of pure madness, his verbal filter disintegrated.

"I thought that you couldn't possibly be real," he breathed, as though the words would kill him if they remained silent inside his head, "and that I must have been waiting my entire life just to meet you."

He heard her breath catch.

She was looking up at him, eyes wide, hollowed out- as though he had simultaneously offered her the universe in a glass sphere and wound and tangled his fingers in the ribbons of her soul, snagging the sinew of her heartstrings, drawing a sweet tension with every pulse that pulled against him.

It was a power, intoxicating, holding her at his mercy.

The instinct to drive in a knife was absent.

"And- I thought, that if SHIELD had thought to send you in the wake of Stuttgart, instead of Romanoff-"

Loki bit down on his tongue, the flesh giving way to the blunt cut of his teeth.

"If they had thought to send me?" She prompted, slowly, holding perfectly still.

He could hear her muted desperation, shaped around a quiet plea.

"Why didn't they send you?" Loki asked, abruptly.

It made little sense, even by the standards that Loki had come to expect and apply to SHIELD. Romanoff was the consummate spy, the obvious choice to the point of detriment, even without taking into account the complication of the archer as a factor. But the girl in front of him- never before encountered as an adversary, seeing through all lies and misdirection, meeting him strike for strike, refusing to be blinded by anger and pain even when he found her wounds and twisted- perhaps SHIELD thought that she couldn't get him to talk, but if that were the case, Loki couldn't help but think that none of them had ever held a single conversation with her.

"Because they don't trust me," she answered. "I'm not theirs."

Not theirs.

The thought was darkly satisfying. But the blankness in her when the topic arose, and the undeniable fact of her presence aboard the Helicarrier prevented Loki from revelling in it overmuch.

"Who do you belong to, then?"

"A question for a question," she reminded him, with a starved strength, like the swansong of a collapsing star. "Answer me. If they had sent me, instead of Agent Romanoff- then what?"

Damn. This was something she wanted enough to be direct, then.

The words were heavy in his mouth, too soft, too full, too much.

"You," Loki said, scraping his thumbnail across his opposite palm, dragging a streak of pain behind it, "would not have walked away with half an answer."

It was true in the strictest sense. She would have been less hurried, more meticulous, and she never would have mistaken it as a careless taunt that leached into confession.

But the strictest sense wasn't why he had hesitated to say it.

Loki watched the comprehension ripple across the surface of her irises, as she deftly pulled apart the ambiguity- and was seized with the urge to laugh hysterically.

She was the greatest weapon that SHIELD could have possibly wielded against him, and they had no idea, couldn't possibly know it-

Unless.

A sharp jolt of panic drove through the floor of his stomach.

"Have you ever met my brother?" Loki asked, deceptively calm.

She tilted her head at him, posture loosening into confusion.

"As far as I'm aware, no," she replied, "never."

Loki tipped his head back to rest against the glass of the cell, carefully impassive.

He knew it was unlikely, but he had to be sure. If she had not met Thor, it would be almost impossible for SHIELD to know, and he could safely dismiss the possibility.

"So- you knew that Agent Romanoff was playing you, didn't you?" Her tone curious, despite the rhetorical phrasing.

Loki glanced at her, amused. "Well, I knew that she was trying."

She gave a soft snort. "In her defence, these were exceptional circumstances. It wasn't reflective of her typical abilities."

"I suppose I must take your word for it," Loki said blandly. "Ah- speaking of which."

She raised her eyebrow.

"Seeing the truth in all things, and being unable to lie. Will you explain it to me?"

Loki could hazard a guess at the answer. At this point, he was prepared to wager a few of his internal organs on being correct.

Hope was a lethal thing, a weakness, and weakness was a luxury that Loki could scarce afford. But he was past ignoring coincidences.

The evidence had mounted up, and now he sought confirmation, for points of alignment, mapping how the constellation formed and split off and shattered and spiralled out.

She gave a fey smile, gazing into the middle distance.

"How do you explain colour to someone who is greyscale colourblind?"

It was as though she was asking herself as much as him.

Loki wondered what it was like, to perceive the universe exactly as it was- and if she ever wondered what it was like, to believe a lie.

After a moment, she flicked the thought away with a toss of her head.

"I can explain it as an abstraction, but it's difficult to describe the actual experience. I just- know? It's something inherent. I don't remember being without it, so I have nothing to compare it to. You could think of it as-" She paused, nipping at her lower lip, dissatisfied with the words she had at hand. "Another sense, maybe? Or a broadened one. Like- seeing a wavelength of light outside the visible spectrum, or recognising currents of magic in the environment. Or," her expression cleared slightly, "something in the way my neuropathways are wired, that recognises and separates truth and lie. I don't have a choice in seeing the truth, but- you were right, yesterday. I can overlook less obvious truths, if I'm unfocused, or if they're layered, or hinge on technicalities. In the same way you might miss a particular detail, even if you see or hear it, because you skimmed over it mentally. I have to pay attention if I want to be confident that I'm getting it right. And some truths just don't exist yet, or aren't near enough for me to perceive, so I can't know under those circumstances. Does that make sense?"

"It does," Loki assured her. "Although- I confess, it sounds lonely. Like being the sole individual awake, while all the world dreams and sleepwalks."

Her shoulders sank slightly in admission.

"It can be." She drew a deep breath, a faint smile welling with it. "Strange, but. I haven't felt as lonely, with you."

Loki considered her for a long moment.

"I cannot imagine Director Fury being pleased with that sentiment."

"Ah, didn't I mention?" Her manner turned light, like a veil of mist lifting, raising her flask to her mouth- but the gesture didn't fully conceal the way her smile deepened meaningfully. "As of this morning, surveillance of this area has officially gone from intermittent to fully inactive. I can say whatever I please."

Loki raised his eyebrows. "Is that so."

Her hazel eyes sparkled at him, as though she was restraining a wellspring of laughter.

"How tall are you?" She asked brightly.

Loki looked away, quirking into a smirk, and continued playing her game.

"In Midgardian units? Six feet, two inches."

Her expression froze, eyes flicking aside.

"Hn."

Loki grinned viciously.

"Darling," he prompted, his question unspoken.

She huffed, still not looking at him, but answered.

"Five-four."

He chuckled. "Oh, sweet thing. You're a doll-"

"I am an inch taller than Romanoff," she informed him defensively, "and perfectly average."

"My lady, there is nothing average about you. Perfection, I will concede."

Her eyes cut towards him in a searching glare.

After a moment, she covered her mouth with her fingers, twisting away from him.

"You're not even lying," she said, muffled, her profile screened from him by the fall of her fair hair.

"Ought I have lied?" Loki asked, amused.

"I would have known."

"Then I had no choice but to speak the truth."

"You could have said nothing."

"And let such slander stand? Never."

Her head turned, just enough to catch a glimpse of him.

There was something amiss. Above the mask of her palm, her line of sight glanced off him, as though she was watching his shadow on the corner of her vision, hazy and faintly unseeing.

Loki felt a twinge of concern.

She let her hand fall away from her mouth, unfolding and sitting upright, fingers tangling.

"Could you come closer? For a moment."

Loki frowned slightly, but pressed out a gentle, bemused smile. "Is that your next question?"

"More a request."

When Loki heard the unevenness in her voice, he realised.

It was subtle, running through her like stitches pulled taut, drawing her head up and her shoulders back into a long, clean line.

Whatever she wanted to ask, something about the prospect scared her.

Loki quietly stood with a press of his palm against the bench, the drape of his leather overcoat falling with the motion.

He measured his strides, letting each step resound on the white floor, unhurried as a resting heartbeat. She watched him, carefully neutral, as he halted a few feet away from the wall of the cell.

After a moment, she shifted, slipping her legs under her and levering herself up smoothly.

The crush of her footsteps on the mattress was almost silent, like the creak of fresh snow.

She kept her gaze level, irises reflecting the curved band of gold inlaid in his breastplate, until she was directly in front of the thick glass- her breath skimming the surface in a whisper of white with her soundless exhale.

Loki closed the last of the gulf between them, mere inches apart. She had to tip her chin up to meet his eyes, baring the slope of her throat, lips parting haltingly.

Loki's fingers twitched with the instinct to take her face in his hands, threading through the silk of her pale hair and slotting against her jaw, thumbs soothing across the ridge of her cheekbones.

He saw her swallow, her eyes dropping to the hollow of his throat, the soft fan of her lashes fluttering, then back up to his face.

"They say," she said quietly, "that the eyes are the window to the soul. Like the keyhole of a lockbox- if you look a person in the eyes, you can glimpse their truest self."

Loki traced over the angles of her face, golden-bronze skin rinsed out by the flat overhead light, searching for something he couldn't name.

"And your verdict?"

She gave him a small, wry smile.

"A pretty but outdated metaphor with no basis in modern science," she diagnosed, her shoulders hitching into an implied shrug, "like the idea that emotion and a person's truest self is rooted in the heart. It's a harmless poetic conceit." She paused. "But accepted science hasn't made room for certain truths, yet. It doesn't have the tools to recognise them. The eyes might not be the window to the soul, but they're not a brick wall either."

Loki breathed out a laugh. "And this is why you wanted me to come closer."

She smiled guiltily, wrapping her arms around her midriff. "Yes. I'm sorry. I should have said."

"I forgive you, darling," he said gallantly, "although, now you have me curious as to what you observed. And- why you hesitated."

She pinned the corner of her lower lip between her teeth. For a moment, she simply looked at him.

"Sea glass," she admitted reticently. "I- I think that's the colour of your eyes. Like sea glass. Translucent shades of blue and green, tumbling over each other. Like seafoam in the shoals."

Loki felt his heart stutter.

"Weren't they blue before?"

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