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#yandere alhaitham x reader
harmonysanreads · 1 year
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Thinking about Yandere!Sumeru Boys and the sweet, lovely bartender who's become the talk of Sumeru recently.
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After receiving the news of the Sage's downfall and Lesser Lord Kusanali's rescue, you, who'd been out venturing Teyvat to learn about its global gastronomy and arts, decide to return to your homeland and help your father's busy Tavern. The knowledge you've gained from your travels prove to be fruitful as Lambad's Tavern reaches a new peak of popularity. Though, not everyone's point of interest is the menu — no no, in fact, many have become frequent patrons simply to get a glimpse of the new face behind the counter.
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You and Kaveh click almost immediately. Your shared views on arts and beauty is one thing checked off, but the way your actually understand him? Unlike most people when they hear his story, you're not quick to put a lable on him ; instead, you make him feel heard and normal for the very first time. Listen patiently and don't throw factual advice on how to fix his life. No wonder he poured out his entire life story to you, all on his first conversation. He's left wondering where you've been all his life as you share a portion of your own struggles, views on life and snippets of your adventures. To this day, Kaveh recalls the conversation along with your benign smile and feels his heart thump as if he's become a teenager again.
Every ensuing visit to the Tavern has his belief strengthen as well : you two must be soulmates. He's even started (half) jokingly calling you one as well, which never seems to move you the way he wants though as, all you do is adorably giggle and ask him to pay for his order. Oh well, he supposes that's an indication that you do not pity him solely because of his financial status. Kaveh's life had gotten a lot better with your presence ; he no longer drinks himself to oblivion, sleeps better than before and doesn't even pay heed to his roommate's sharp comments that'd otherwise end in a massive argument, thoughts preoccupied with what kind of trinket he could bring to impress you. For a brief period, Kaveh had felt like he'd finally found his light, his reason to keep living. He'd only wish he hadn't introduced his friends to you.
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You first ‘officially’ met the dusty-rock-of-a-roommate of Kaveh (his words) when you took the responsibility of dropping him to his place of residence after the architect had passed out from taking a sip of the Sneznayan Fire-Water. You weren't sure what you were expecting from Alhaitham, but a talk over books that spiralled a little too late into the night and ended with him walking you back home certainly wasn't it. You can see where Kaveh came from, The Acting Grand Sage did not have the countenance that invited friendships. You'll have to thank your profound interest in all genres of books and an equal ease to share your opinions to not be at the recipient of that attitude. It takes you a little too much time to notice that since that night, the Scribe has found himself a second home in your radar. You see him at Puspa Cafe, the Grand Bazar, the streets and after a little while, even at your father's Tavern almost frequently. So much so, that calling him something of a friend might not be as far-fetched now.
In Alhaitham's defense, he's simply intrigued, it's not everyday he meets someone who can keep up with him. It took him only a glance at you to realize you're the person who has Kaveh blushing and giggling like a madman at random times. The architect's creepy behavior aside, at least, it seemed as though some of your sense of responsibility had rubbed off on him so, less headache for Alhaitham. You're easy to talk to ; granted, you don't always have agreements but that doesn't pose as an impediment from keeping the conversation flowing. In fact, you treat him no different ; neither his status nor his prolonged disappearances that'd no doubt affect anyone else can change your easygoing persona as he approaches you, the coffee and dishes you make are rather good too and— ah. Alhaitham understands now why Kaveh is so smitten with you.
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Lambad's Tavern is a prominent destination for fans of Genius Invocation TCG, you like the game, too. But because of your duty, you can only resign yourself to watching from the counter as some rejoiced in victory and others had their heads in their hands from loss. It's entertaining to a degree, frustrating to another as you have to remain silent while the players make dumb choices. You digress, whatever they do is none of your business. But if you had to pick one group that produced the most entertaining show out of this game ; it'd be the friends Kaveh brought along with him. Most of the times, they'd just be reduced to Kaveh's ranting pillows and really, only one of them—and by that you mean the General Mahamatra who seemed to truly care for the game. You're curious about him, actually. He seemed so different from the rumours that were floating around. And thanks to Kaveh's impulsive announcement that you'd be dueling Cyno one night, you had the opportunity to satiate that curiousity — and flex a win against the master of TCG altogether.
To say Cyno was flabbergasted would be the understatement of the century. He'd repeatedly demanded for a second match that time (all the while Kaveh looked like he could die of pride) but you'd shut it off with the (not really) threat of charging extra for your lost time. Since then, he'd been hot on your tail, too. Trying to coax you into a second match with every strategy he can think of : bribing, bargaining, cracking awful jokes to befriend you — his hard work paid off, but the sight of a win against you still seemed to be far. At one point, those concerns were lost as you both simply found fun in each other's presence. Cyno, in the meantime, had noticed that your amiable personality was both a blessing and a curse. Do you not see the corrupt glints in their eyes? The wanton touches and disgusting saccharine lacing their words? No can do, they do not deserve your courtesy. Do not blame him for taking matters into his own accounts or show any semblance of concern after the personnel mysteriously disappear the next day ; its just a little favor for his TCG buddy.
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Out of all of them, Tighnari took you the longest to get to know properly. Given his usually passive personality in the presence of others, no wonder he'd strayed a little from your attention. The forest ranger wasn't behind in knowing you, though. In fact, it seemed as though he had been picking up on clues his other friends were missing. Tighnari had been the first to take notice of your ennui, which he had surmised to be a result of all the people you have to deal with everyday. Turns out even you have your moments. One evening as Kaveh, Cyno and Alhaitham were preoccupied with debating over who-knows-what, Tighnari took the opportunity to approach you about it. He couldn't ignore the darkening circles under your eyes or the brightness in your optics dimming any longer — he's glad he did ; in truth, your life had gotten crazier than it was back when you were traveling, you'd confessed. You no longer felt truly...alone, even in moments that you're sure is securely private. Tighnari listened intently, for once the roles being switched. He sent hand-made remedies to help with your stress, frequently wrote to you to check your well being when he couldn't visit personally, anything within his power.
He felt sympathy for your state, such a precious person like you doesn't deserve this, you should be treated better, he could treat you better — now if only you're at arms reach to the forest ranger. Alas, for now he'd have to be content with this development. Tighnari has an inkling about who is, or are, responsible for your building misery. Does he intent to do anything with that knowledge though? Yes, coaxing you to his side, preferably.
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The innocent, nameless wandering boy you'd taken with you on your return to Sumeru, suddenly returned home with a glowing anemo vision in the span of a few hours one fine afternoon. Nothing really seemed out of the ordinary though, he was still as glued to your person (though nowadays he seemed to venture out more than usual), he was still the harmless boy you'd grown accustomed to. So then, why did it feel like something was amiss? Was it how often he'd find himself at the brink of an angry customer's fist? Or was it because that only occurs when you leave the counter to get something and that same customer just so happened to have been pushing you for a date beforehand? Your suspicions always end up fleeting though, you can never even raise an eyebrow at the boy, not when he looks at you with those glossy puppy eyes. In the end, it's always the other man that's handed over to the guards, it's always the others, in general at the face of your displeasure — not Wanderer, never Wanderer. If only you could see the same grin he directs at the retreating men behind your unassuming back.
You never did regret letting him trail behind your person (except maybe the bombarding allegations from your family of him being your significant other, it took one whole week to convince them otherwise, after all.) ; he was sweet and so.. clueless, as if he were but a newborn child. Your heart couldn't resist the poor thing and that's what brought you to this situation. Wanderer revels in the others' jealousy at the sight of you two's closeness (who could guess this same man had tried to take over Sumeru). He can do many of the things your other admirers can only dream of ; lean on your shoulder, fall asleep on your lap, play with your hair as you prepare a drink, whisper things in your ear with a purposefully lowered voice and get away with anything. All is well with the lost boy you'd picked up from the last turn of your travels, it's just that, you can't quite shake off the feeling of a strange familiarity everytime you look at his otherwordly eyes.
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what do you call this? a love hexagon? 🤔
[ au masterlist ]
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allfearstofallto · 2 months
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I FORGOT A COUPLE PEOPLE FOR MY YANDERE HISTORICAL AU!!
[Part 1] [Part 3]
TW: mentions of drugging
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Travelling Merchant! Alhaitham who has seen practically every nation twice over, yet always lingers in yours for a bit too long. His ability to document down things quickly and retain information better than most means that he's always ahead of what trends will be happening soon using data and analytics. He sells mostly dresses, fabrics, and jewelery. Things that a commoner like yourself could never afford. But he insists every time that you take some of his stock. A dress here or a necklace there, something to make your already pretty face prettier, even though you tell him that you'd never be able to afford it. He's fuming, seeing red when he observes your parading around the city with someone on your arm, one of the dresses he'd given you hugging your body, you accept his gifts so easily, but don't throw yourself at him?
Mercenary for Hire! Arataki Itto who thinks you look so cute begging on your knees for his protection. You have not much to give in the way of funds, but the loan sharks after your father have set their sights on you and your humble business instead. You heard he's the best of the best and you plead to his good nature to just protect you until their attention falls on someone else. But even after they're gone, he doesn't leave. He assured you that what little gold your provided to pay for his service was enough, yet he's still outside your house every single night. And you can't hire someone else to get rid of him, can you?
(Also) Arranged Husband! Ayato who visited from the nation across the sea. He saw your face once, an innocent looking viscountess, and immediately sent a letter asking for your hand when he returned home. You were wed and sent somewhere entirely different, the complete opposite of what you knew. But Ayato seemed nice. He was always calm and soft spoken, never even raising his voice when he was angry. When he saw that you were still nervous, he always offered you calming tea. But you realized quickly how much you'd been sleeping. How you'd wake up in bed with your husband and not remember when you went to sleep. You constantly felt groggy and your limbs were too heavy. But like clockwork, Ayato would bring you another cup of tea, it'll make you feel better.
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lijojo · 9 months
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genshin sugar daddies: leaving hickeys on you
premise: you have seven sugar daddies: one for each day of the week. it’s a bit overwhelming, but you try you’re best to keep each relationship relatively independent from the other. that means no hickeys. except, well, each one of them wants to make you theirs exclusively and they’re not above marking you secretly to send a message to tomorrow’s person. (yandere! possessive! genshin reverse harem x reader) (modern au!) 
*if you want more yandere genshin sugar daddy content the introduction is here but this can be a standalone read! 
tags: nsfw, dark content, afab reader, fingering, dirty-talk, unprotected sex, dub-con, smut smut smut smut smut
diluc is no stranger to jealousy. you can sense it in the way his eyes constantly beckon for yours. the way he grips tightly onto your waist. he never asks anything more than your gaze on monday evenings. they have to be on him. always. not for a second more are you allowed to look at anything else but him. he’s greedy, always pulling you to look at him once more. naturally, his gaze is always on you. 
you feel it drag up and down your back. crawl into the little dip in your neckline to see what’s underneath your clothes. 
so the one time, the one time, kaeya’s crafty attempts to leave hickeys on your folds and inner thighs in the midst of eating you out, diluc catches it. 
he sees it the moment he peels off your panties. what should’ve been a slow sequence of him sinking his tongue into your pussy is immediately halted at the sight of a very small but noticeable bruise in the juncture between your thighs and your labia minora. 
kaeya’s warning. 
the change in his demeanor is undeniable. his heavy gaze flits over to your face. intentful. unaware of the hickey, you’re understandably confused. 
if diluc’s seen something, he doesn’t tell you. instead, he internalizes the sight. it’s a warning and a challenge. 
mine. 
he’s quick to grab onto your wrists and pin them above your head. before you can brace yourself, he’s slipped a finger inside you. you gasp at the sudden intrusion, but welcome him as he curls his finger towards him, gently brushing against that spongy spot that leaves you breathless. 
he chuckles lightly as you roll your eyes back. his thumb presses on your clit, nudging it side to side. “you’re soaking wet,” he mutters, sliding another two fingers inside you. “all for me?” 
your hold on the sheets tightens. 
he leans closer to your ear. “i can’t wait to smear the remnants of your orgasm on my cock. make it slick enough to slip inside you. make you feel good. we want my darling to feel really good, right?”
you hiss when he starts thrusting his fingers into you at rapid speed. desperate. eager to make you spill your affection onto his hands. 
“that wasn’t a rhetorical question, sweetheart.”
you can’t help the moan that leaves you as you approach your climax. “y-yes! yes—ah—diluc!” 
his grin looks so unlike him. his thumb starts to draw circles on your clit, going quicker and quicker the more you squirm and moan. 
“cum on me. do it for me, princess. cum all over my hand. give me all your everything.”
you can barely understand the undertone in his words. instead, you reach your high. your orgasm pours out of you, onto his beckoning fingers. and instead of letting you go, he continues mercilessly until your left whining for him to stop. 
and he does. eventually. he slowly pulls his digits out of your crying cunt. he collects the droplets that trickle out of your lower lips and let’s it drip onto his twitching dick. he runs his hands along his shaft, letting out a shaky groan. 
“look how pretty you’ve made me. this is all you, darling.” 
he fucks you like it’s he’ll die if he doesn’t. blinded by the mixture of pain and pleasure, you close your eyes and submit to the feeling of overwhelming bliss. 
you’re so overwhelmed, that you don’t register how he’s kissing your neck like a man on a mission. 
the two of you are in the middle of a normal tuesday brunch when childe sees it. when you turn to accept the menu from the waiter, he can see the slightest marks that you couldn’t hide, even with the most expensive foundation. 
you curse internally when you see his eyes narrow in on you. you should’ve known better than to ever believe that diluc would ever follow one of your only rules: no hickeys. 
and now childe, notoriously competitive, will feel compelled to have his fill. 
you should’ve worn a scarf. 
you thought that the position of the hickey, and the slight fadedness your foundation was barely able to provide would’ve been enough. you were wrong. 
like a built-in reflex, you smile. “what’s the matter? is there something wrong?”
he gives you a smile, an all-knowing smile as he takes the menu from you. “nothing is wrong at all, girlie. i’m just admiring that new necklace i bought you.”
you’re good at pretending nothing’s wrong, so you fiddle the crystals with your hand. “i love the way it shimmers,” you add, “i love how sparkly you’ve made me.” 
if you’ve done anything to settle his displeasure, he doesn’t show it. instead, he averts his eyes to the menu. you know better than to believe that nothing bad will come out tonight. 
for the rest of the night, he engages in small talk with you. about the weather. a new store that’s just opened up. some story about some poor guy who borrowed more money than he could ever give back. the thought makes you tighten your grip on your fork.
when you get back to his penthouse, he’s quick to strip you of your luxurious gown and all of it’s accompanied gold accents. when you reach to take off the necklace that decorates your neck, he stops you. 
“keep it on,” he whispers, his hand crawling up your thigh to grip your ass. “wanna fuck you looking so pretty in my jewelry. wanna make you shine with sweat as pretty as those gems.” 
“oh really?” you retort, sliding your hand between the two of your bodies and cupping his sex. he groans as you run your fingertips down his groin. “wanna make me shine with your cum?” 
“yes,” he gasps. in the heat of the moment, his eyes catches the faint outline of diluc’s mark just below your jaw. overtaken by some primal instinct, he presses your waist against him. “you’re letting all those side-fucks give you hickeys?” 
his words almost make you want to freeze. but you’re quick to resume back to normal, to pretend that those words don’t phase you. that you don’t hear the implications in the undertones of his voice. 
it’s worse if you tell him it was unintentional. 
“it’s a new development.” you tug at his hair as he digs his face into the crook of your neck. “you get only one.”
you need to have the upper hand. in a sea of seven men who are constantly demanding things from you, you have to take what you’re dealt with and do something before they overtake you.
he grins.  “you’re such a tease. which motherfucker left this on you?” 
you know better than to tell him. everyone knows that there’s seven who you’re regularly seeing. but they don’t know the names—not the order. you know better than to give names. these men are as powerful as they are rich, you wouldn’t do anything that’d upset the city’s dynamics. 
so you avoid the question, like you’ve always done. 
“i can think of better ways you can use that mouth, other than asking silly questions.” 
his brow twitches, but he doesn’t do anything else to push you. instead, he smiles into your neck. “only one?”
“only one,” you confirm.
he doesn’t hesitate to take off your necklace. his hands dive to the back of your neck to unclip it and toss it to the side. you let out a yelp in surprise when it clangs onto the coffee table. 
“i’ll buy you a better one,” he says in-between open-mouthed kisses on your jawline. “fuck, i’ll buy you a thousand more.”
he sinks down to your collarbone. “’been dreaming of this. my girl, my pretty, pretty girl, wearing reminders of me.” 
the two of you are in the comfort of kazuha’s home. wednesdays are reserved for writing, and like always, you’re pinned under his watchful gaze while he writes his thoughts away in his notebook. 
with every few scrawls, he peeks over the paper to steal glances at you. you hum, pretending to be blissfully aware. you’re just here as his muse. 
as of this moment, you snuggle into your comfortable place in the back of his study, leaning against the window that expands to his backyard that oversees the sunrise and sunset. your own notebook rests on your thighs, your knees pressed close enough to your chest to allow you to write smoothly. kazuha sits across from you, his feet sometimes brushing against yours. if you laid your legs out straight, no doubt that the balls of your feet would meet his waist. 
he keeps stealing glances at you. has been for the past hour. no matter how much you try to focus on your own poems, you can’t brush away the feeling of being watched. 
his eyes are impeccable, and can spot the marks that occasionally peak underneath your scarf when you move a certain away. 
“you let them mark you?” he asks out of the blue. not accusatorily, per se, but you can detect the edge in his voice. 
the corners of your lips perk unnaturally. the moment you’d been dreading since you woke up had arrived. you let your eyes soften, as if it could soothe kazuha by any means. with a gentle hand, you reach out to softly grasp his hand that tightens around the edge of his notebook. it’s something he accepts readily, enveloping your hand with his. 
“i was meaning to talk to you about this, kazu,” you say tenderly. “it’s just something i’m trying out. everyone gets one. see if everyone’s okay with it.” 
kazuha doesn’t say anything. his gaze is fixated on your intertwined hands. “my love, they mark your skin like animals.”
you smile like it’s no trouble. because that’s what you need him to believe. you feel like kazuha’s a loose thread. tug him in the wrong direction, the wrong idea, and he’ll undo the entire sweater. 
“it’s only going to be seven,” you reply, trying to lessen the tension. 
“it’s better if there’s just one,” he retorts gingerly. “they aren’t gentle at all, are they?”
you don’t like the way his eyes sweep over your entire figure. you hold back a shudder, feeling as if a ghost had just passed through you. 
“they are,” you mumble, although you can hardly say it’s true. “don’t you worry kazu, i can handle myself.” 
your line of sight flits back to your intertwined hands; he lets go, instead running the pads of his fingers down the back of your hands before settling on your wrist. his hold is firm. it’s not tight enough to cause you pain, but not gentle enough to let you pull away. 
“i’m sure you do, love,” he mutters. but the way he says it makes it seem as if he doesn’t believe you.
his eyes connect with yours intently.
the rustle of your clothes shuffling echoes through the quiet study as he pulls your wrist towards his mouth. in doing so, you’re forced to lean forward. his eyes never leave you, not when he presses a soft kiss to the inside of your wrist.
“they just want you for your body,” he says, more to himself than you. “they don’t love you at all. everything would be so much better if you just dropped them. let me take care of it. take care of it all.” 
you don’t say anything back. he doesn’t want you to. and even if you did, it wouldn’t be something he’d want to hear. you have bills to pay. you have enemies a wealthy poet wouldn’t be able to defend you from on his own. 
his tongue slides out of his mouth to lick a long strip up your wrist, all while looking at you. he presses open-mouthed kisses in the same spot, sucking and nibbling with purpose. in-between kisses, his tongue draws letters on the expanse of your skin in a sentence you’ve begun to fear.
A L L M I N E  
when spring comes, tighnari will sometimes give you hickeys. he’ll do it in the heat of the moment in a passionate rut. he can’t think of anything else but you. how perfect you are for him. how beautiful. how you belong to him. 
while he drives his cock into you the only way he knows how, his lips will find their place in the crook of your neck. on the curve of your breasts. on the plush of your thighs. he’ll kiss you like you’re his air. 
he’ll whimper into your skin. in that moment, you’re powerless to stop him. his pace is godspeed, pummeling into you like you’re his lifeline. driven to leave his white reminders of his love and devotion into your aching pussy. you can barely hold yourself up steadily. your fingers tremble. overcome with an insurmountable high, you can’t push him away as he leaves hickeys all over your body. 
it’s not to send a message to everyone, per se, but to express the feelings he’d been keeping pent up during autumn, winter, and summer. the overwhelming infatuation and adoration he feels for you. 
his pension for leaving nonstop hickeys on you starts to settle on the fourth day. and by the end of the week-long rut, they’ve faded just enough that you can cover it up with foundation and expensive jewelry. 
but when he’s not blinded by his sexual desperation during the spring, it’s a different story. 
it’s a perfectly fine thursday mid-afternoon in the comfort of tighnari’s study when he sees it. 
he catches a glimpse of kazuha’s kiss on your wrist when you pass a cup of tea to him. your sleeves ride up just a bit under the beaming sun. you notice too, and are quick to pull back. but it’s too late. the moment he’s set down the cup he’s grabbing onto your wrist and pulling back the sleeve. “what’s this?” 
you’re tempted to let out a breath of relief that he didn’t notice the hickey that barely rested on the edge of your collar. when you donned on the turtleneck sweater, you feared that he’d notice it if it slipped down and grow even more livid. 
just play it off. pretend. if you’re lucky, by the end of this week, you’ll end up with only six hickeys. 
“oh, i must’ve bumped into something.” 
tighnari scowls. “this doesn’t seem like an ordinary bruise. how’d you get it?” 
you’re scrambling for a believable response. “i was leaning back onto the counter and didn’t realize the corner was there.”
he chuckles. “clumsy you.” his forefinger inches up the slightest bit to press on it. 
you wince. subsequently, your entire body tenses. this isn’t like those times where you can lie sweetly to him whenever he asks for you to stay for good. this isn’t like one of those times you can charm your way out of a situation. the way he looks at you is knowing. feral.
“i wasn’t born yesterday, love,” he hisses. “i know a hickey when i see one, especially when i leave them on you every spring.”
the way he kisses you after is rougher than usual. desperate. needy. aggressive. he presses into you, his tail wagging tentatively. he brings your arms to wrap around his neck. his tongue caresses your own, exploring your mouth like it’s a new discovery. a new treasure trove. 
he whimpers into the kiss, his little squeaks and moans muffled by his need to devour you. 
you close your eyes and let yourself get swept up with the pacing. to get distracted by him. you hardly register the time pass before the two of you are naked, your clothes strewn across the floor in his bedroom. 
your back is pressed against his chest, your ass hugging his dick while he slides his hand down the valley between your breasts, stopping to pinch your nipple until it hardens. his other hand is left to its own devices, settling on your waist. 
his fingers find themselves in the comfort of your pussy. he whimpers at how amazing you feel around his fingertips. how every time he pulls in and out, there’s squelching noises that almost overtake his little whines and yelps. every time he pushes his fingers back in, your ass presses a little closer to his dick. 
he moans like you’re the one pleasuring him. like he’s on the cusp of euphoria, only silencing himself to press open-mouthed kisses on your shoulder. 
“it’s m-my turn,” he says in-between whines. “m-my pretty l-little pet.” 
when alhaitham gets home after a long week of working, all he wants to do is relax in warmth of your embrace. friday is his reward. 
he eats dinner as always, asking you questions in-between bites while delivering long stares that still make you feel like you’re being researched. but this week, instead of insisting you two spend quality time together reading on the couch, he coaxes you into the bedroom. 
he groans into the kiss, pressing you to the wall as he helps you out of your clothes. but when he opens his eyes to admire your body, he doesn’t like what he sees.
he lets out an unamused chuckle. his hand brushes over your shoulder. “what’s this?” 
you try to speak, but he cuts you off with another kiss. when you gasp in surprise, his tongue dives into your mouth. 
he leaves you breathless; his pace is rough, almost angry. 
“what a bad girl you are,” he seethes, “letting all those bastards touch you like that? bruise your pretty, pretty skin?”
he doesn’t let you talk. he envelops your opportunity to reply with his relentless kisses. he presses harder into your mouth, your teeth almost gnashing together. it’s almost painful, as if he wished to bind you two together. 
“every friday is my solace, my holiday, didn’t you know?” 
you gasp for air. “i-” 
“i’m not done yet.” he brings his lips to yours for another hungry kiss. “every week i work so hard so i can see you, cherish you, and this is how you repay me? i thought you were my good girl.” 
he chuckles darkly. “but you’re just a bad apple, aren’t you? i’ll have to fix that.”
he continues to kiss you. to ravish you with his mouth. he swallows your moans, his hands eagerly exploring your body like it’s his first time. and like always, his hands find their place on your chest. 
“i’ve always loved your breasts: the way they curve, the way they sway so sweetly every time you arch your back for me, how your nipples perk up with every caress of mine.” he flicks one and you yelp. 
“those imbeciles really have no intelligence at all.” he licks a long stripe in-between the valley of your breasts. “your body is a canvas.” 
his eyes connect with yours, beckoning your gaze. a silent connection, a guarantee that you’re looking at him. at what he’s doing. at what he’s making you feel.
he stares at you attentively, and once again you feel like you’re being studied. every gasp that comes from your lips. every twitch of your brows. every time your eyelids flutter is under his watchful gaze like it’s the only thing his sight is for. like he’s a scientist researching the cure to his very own hunger. 
his lips find purchase just on the edge of your areola, sucking intently. “to mark you is a form of art.” 
he relishes in the way you shudder. but he needs more. 
with one hand on your waist, his other comes up to fondle your other breast, craving for more reaction.
“only idiots wouldn’t be able to realize it.” 
unlike all of the other saturdays, where you’re probably swept up in the grand scheme of things (attending formal events, meeting politicians, or shopping like ayato’s wallet depended on it), you’re lounging in ayato’s home office on a calm evening. 
the two of you decided to end things a bit earlier today and relax a bit. and by that, you suggested to spend some quality time alone so that you didn’t need to walk anymore. although you prided yourself on stamina and tolerance to soreness, even you couldn’t keep up after just about a week of aggressive men fucking their jealousy into you. 
“it was hot today,” ayato mutters lazily as he gently runs his fingers through your hair. your head rests on the plush of his thigh, just as he likes it. “are you sure that you’re comfortable in that turtleneck, love?”
you curl into yourself a little bit more, tugging the collar up. “yes, i’m perfectly fine.”
you’re not fine. you’ve been sweating up a storm underneath your sweater but you were adamant on ending this week with six hickeys instead of seven. your stubbornness refused you the pleasure of ice-cold showers to wash away how your clothes burned you. 
he pouts. “are you sure? you look awfully uncomfortable, dear. you can take a shower in my bathroom, if you’d like.” he smiles. “i won’t look, promise.”
you turn to look at him, contemplating. on one hand, you don’t believe anything good will come out of undressing in ayato’s house. you don’t believe his promise, either. if you knew him any better, he’d walk into the shower on the grounds of saving water, where he’d see all the hickeys imbued into your skin. while diluc, childe, and kazuha’s marks were getting a little faded, you doubt you could somehow explain alhaitham and tighnari’s hickeys. 
but on the other hand, you’d been in this sweater for a whole day already. and your skin was started to get irritated. you felt gross with all of the sweat you’d accumulated. maybe five minutes wouldn’t hurt. 
you smile like there’s nothing to worry about. like you’re an adoring lover. like you’re whoever ayato wants you to be. you reach out to cup his cheek, to which he warmly receives. 
“okay. i’ll be back soon.”
he chuckles as you get up from his lap to head to the shower. you had to be quick. 
you all but run to the bathroom once you’re out of sight. you head to ayato’s bedroom where some of your clothes are. dresses, lingerie, t-shirts, jeans, shorts, and all other items of clothing he’s ever bought you hang neatly in his closet. you pluck whatever seems practical and make a break for the shower.
you slip off the diamond ring he’d given you months ago. you all but slam it onto the counter, relieved your ring finger can breathe for once. 
the quicker you take, the more likely you can shower without incident. 
but the moment you’ve stepped out of the shower, towel wrapped secure around your torso, to your horror, the door opens. 
“hey, love, i was wondering—”
just before you can close the door shut on him, his eyes connect to the discoloring on your shoulder. 
regardless of his discovery, you move to usher him out. but mid-way, your feet are halted in the middle of the bathroom floor. the words are crawling in your mouth. you want to tell him that you’d like to shower in peace, tell it to him teasingly, but you don’t think you can. 
that’s not what he wants. that’s not what pays the bills. 
you offer a tight-lipped smile. “like what you see?”
he paces towards you, caressing your shoulder. he leans closer to you, examining the color, the shape, the size. “hm, so that’s how they want to play this game,” he whispers, ignoring your question entirely.
his hands gently tug at your towel. he smiles. “won’t you open up for me, love?”
he guides your hands as you drop the towel, revealing alhaitham’s mark. 
“hm.” he looks at you as if he’s silently critiquing an art piece. “i see what’s going on here.” 
he takes the ring that you left behind on the counter and works to slide it slowly onto your finger again. “you almost forgot to wear the symbol of our love, dear.” 
“oh, it must’ve slipped my mind.” it’s like there’s cotton in your mouth. your throat feels dry.
he chuckles at that. “poor thing. my poor lover can be so forgetful.” 
 his eyes drift down to your chest.
he presses a kiss above your breasts, where your heart is.
“she almost forgets that she’s mine.” 
even if he’s your designated sunday, if you aren’t careful enough, kaeya will create a week full of trouble for you. 
when he eats you out, he becomes pussy-drunk. he kisses your lower lips like it’s his prize. his reward for working so hard this week. his tongue runs up your pussy to your clit in a slow, deliberate stroke. 
when he reaches your clit, he lets his mouth mold over your nub. he licks at it gently, cherishing it like it’s his only rose on a lonely valentine’s day. 
he makes love to you like he’s reached his happily ever after. his lewd slurping overshadows the shuffling of the sheets, your moans. when he dips his tongue into your cunt, he whimpers. 
his fingers dig into your thighs, holding you in place. even when you’re overstimulated, begging for a break, he won’t let you go. he savors the way you tremble so cutely under his touch. how your cum leaks out of you in small streams after your fifth release. he’s immersed in your cunt, yearns to make out with your lower lips while his nose nudges at your clit.
it’s too much. the feeling of your climax is so overwhelming. 
he wants you to feel this euphoria, to remind you of how he feels every time he looks at you. 
he wants you so much. so fucking much it hurts him when he can’t see you. when he can’t hold you. when he can’t be with you like a real lover. he needs you like he needs air. he needs to feel you wrapped around him to give him life. to give him purpose. 
that’s why when you’re so swept up in the feeling of a constant climax, when your legs feel numb, he gets so carried away. 
if you don’t catch him in time, kaeya will leave secretive hickeys along your inner thigh, dangerously close to your folds. he needs the others to know he’s staking his claim.
to know he’s making you feel so good that there’s definitive proof. 
at the end of the week, when you see him again after seven days of trying to calm down the jealous storm among your seven sugar daddies, he’ll grin. 
it’s that same devious smirk he gives you at candlelight dinners, except it isn’t one to mask his vulnerabilities with charisma and one-liners. it’s one to tell you that he knows exactly what he’s done. 
he knows what he wants, and he’s finally had enough of the fucking waiting. 
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teabutmakeitazure · 1 year
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Coincidental Smiles and Hard Working Humour
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How the Yan Genshin boys react to a genuine laugh from you and try to dig for more
Characters included: Childe, Diluc, Zhongli, alhaitham, Pantalone
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Childe: Going to the kitchen first thing after waking up and seeing him half covered in flour with his hair ruffled up like he just got hit by electro did wonders on your brain. The sight of him disheveled and disorderly had made you chuckle, the bubbles of laughter slowly turning into giggles. Childe watches you with eyes as wide as saucers as he remains frozen where he stands, saucepan in hand. The sound of your laughter echoes in the kitchen, and you briefly clutch your stomach during your unguarded moment. Watching you pour out such joyous sounds makes Childe's brain hyperactive and he tries his best to get into circumstances similar to that. He messes up his shirt's buttons and goes to you, asking you to fix them for him. He purposely lets his hair dry all weird so that you could see how funny it looks. He even goes to the length to make up some puns in his head, but that horribly backfires when you mockingly gag. Childe tries his absolute best to make you laugh again all the while going to sleep with the memory of that heavenly sound replaying in his head over and over again.
Diluc: Dawn Winery is no stranger to nature. There's crystalflies, grapes, carrots, potatoes, the occasional boars and your favourite, the resident cats. Having recently befriended a mother and her three kittens, you often sneak out to the vineyard to find them. Diluc is obviously aware of the little rendezvous that frequently occurs but takes no action since, well, you come back inside out of fear anyway. Plus, the staff in the vicinity always keeps a close eye and Diluc himself, when at home, watches. So when he hears you giggle from around the corner as he hides in the shadow of the estate wall, he is enchanted. Not because he's never heard you laugh before, no no. It's because of how genuine it is. He peaks out of curiosity and sees three kittens climbing on top of you with different angles all the while one licks your cheek. More sounds of laughter from you put Diluc in a kind of spell, and he finds himself slowly taking steps towards you. Naturally, blood drains from your face when you see him towering over you. Diluc feels guilty when you go as silent as a mouse, but ends up bringing the cats inside to dig up more smiles from you. Can't say competing with them for your attention was easy but hey, it's a small price to pay.
Zhongli: The harbour is bustling with business during the evening hours. Working people leaving for home and grabbing necessities on the way back and children playing by the docks during the rush hours just to hurry back home when it gets dark. While the ex archon thought you would be interested in shopping, it seemed that the youngsters of Liyue Harbour had been your point of interest all along. You had slipped away when he was analysing which hairstick would suit you better, and though Zhongli would usually be worried, he is aware that there's no place you may run off to. Thus, him being perfectly fine with you roaming about. However, had Zhongli known that you would be engaging the children in different games with so much laughter and joy, he would have let you go sooner. As he stood there, watching with a smile, only one thought crossed his mind. Perhaps you would display the same joy if you had children of your own, right?
Alhaitham: The Akademiya can be... ruthless, even for the feeble scholar. The other day, alhaitham, absolutely sleep deprived, had fallen asleep while drinking his morning coffee and while he would have thought that you'd leave him be, you actually took the mug from his hand and placed it on the counter to avoid any spills. Alhaitham's lack of sleep haunted him for a few more days and on one fine morning had fallen asleep while doing paperwork. Being someone who avoids his attentive stare in the mornings, it had been a few hours later that you had exited the bedroom for breakfast. It would certainly not be an exaggeration to claim that seeing the acting grand sage sleeping on the sofa with his coffee mug empty and the beverage spilled onto the floor is in any way, shape or form reassuring for Sumeru's future. However, catching sight of the little amount of drool spilling from his lips had caused you to erupt into a fit of giggles, waking up the sleeping man. Maybe you should atone for your transgression with offering yourself as a pillow.
Pantalone: The Regrator's job is a stressful one. There are idiots of all types present everywhere and are far too much of a nuisance. Pantalone had summoned you into his home office in an attempt to catch a well deserved break from being hunched over paperwork, but when you had walked in, he didn't even so much as look up from his desk, scowling at the papers haphazardly scattered about. Having to witness such a stoic and composed man scowling and glaring at papers all the while muttering something about 'buffoons' and 'imbeciles' had made you stop in your tracks, suppressing a smile. It was when he had made a disgusted face before grabbing an abacus that you couldn't hold in a chuckle. The sound morphs into laughter, and Pantalone freezes on the spot, head slowly rising to look at you. Seems like today is a blessed day.
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beloved-blaiddyd · 1 month
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Yandere prince!Al Haitham/(little mermaid)Merfolk!Reader
aphotic: a sea witch grants you a dangerous wish. it affects your lover.
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@xianyoon (ty so much for the event, this is a fun prompt ^^)
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moonsaver · 29 days
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Yandere!Idol!Alhaitham has been on my mind for SO long oh my goodness.........
Idol!Alhaitham, who's spotted laughing for the first time you attend those fanmeetings, and crack the stupidest joke ever. Fancams all around the room caught that moment, and it's gotten wildly famous within the fandom.
Idol!Alhaitham who mentions to have taken a "liking" to someone in all the interviews after that one fanmeeting. The fandom is quick to connect the dots, and everything's up in a rage at the mere mention of that one fancam. Alhaitham isn't oblivious to their reactions.
Idol!Alhaitham, who, somehow, manages to find details about you, your purchases of their merch, and somehow manages to always pull a few strings to make you the winner of any giveaways you join that are hosted by their company. It's almost laughably easy for him.
Idol!Alhaitham, who deep down hates it when he realizes he's not your favorite within the group. Your eyes are on another member on the stage. Your likes are of another member's fancam. You repost another member's clips and moments. Most of the merch you own of his is just bonus you get along with the actual merch you wanted to buy. He's not having it.
Idol!Alhaitham who tracks down your socials, and takes a note of all the clothing brands you own, your aesthetics, your hobbies, and makes it a point to include it into his photos. You couldn't have known an idol as famous as him would even buy from the same niche clothing brand as you, right? Maybe your eyes are just tricking you..
Idol!Alhaitham, who you've started spotting more and more frequently around your area. More of their concerts are being held in your area, and it gives him the perfect excuse to stage a chance encounter with you, as if he hadn't been stalking you for the past couple of weeks beforehand. He pulls you along to private and hidden spaces with a convenient excuse to "not get caught". You're not sure if that was his intention, because he keeps pulling you along to more and more shady areas, with lesser and lesser people. It's already late, and it's surprising that he has more time than you. Isn't his schedule supposed to be packed?
Idol!Alhaitham, who becomes more active in songwriting after that "chance encounter". And it's evident most of them are intensely romantic in nature, eerily mentioning details about you not even most of your friends would have known, in passing adlibs. The fandom's picked up on it, but they've yet to pick up on the fact that it's you he's writing about.
Idol!Alhaitham, who's now shamelessly convincing the public that he's in a relationship with someone, that someone supposed to be you. It becomes so widespread within the fandom that it becomes hard to back out now. If you refuse, or even try, an anonymous account may leak your information, and it won't be soon before you recieve death threats,stalkers,or something even worse. It's better to go along with what he says, isn't it? He knows just what to say.
Idol!Alhaitham, that collects your photos instead. He has every single one of them pinned with respective dates, in a hidden drawer of his room, where not a single employee can find it to take it away. You realize how wrong things have gone when you start receiving copies of these photos with an abundance of his merch from giveaways you hadn't even joined.
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ddarker-dreams · 11 months
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Intimidation Ranking / Yan Sumeru Boys.
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Kaveh — 2/10
Like... he's writing your names next to one another in his notebook and drawing a heart around it. Kaveh isn't inspiring much fear in the traditional sense. You find him endearing more than anything. He visibly brightens up when you're around, stares off into the horizon and sighs when you're not. His more socially unacceptable tendencies are kept under lock and key (such as his innumerable blueprints for how he'll build your house when you get married, despite how you're both only friends). His romantic rivals don't have to fear for their lives as much as they would if put up against the others on this list. That being said, he still has his methods for dealing with them. It's more psychological in nature. Once he's cemented himself as an important figure in your life, he'll 'exaggerate the truth' (he thinks the word lying has a negative connotation), about any rivals' negative traits. He does this covertly over increments of time so as not to arouse any suspicion. You couldn't possibly look at Kaveh and suspect any wrongdoing on his part.
Alhaitham — 5/10
Alhaitham is weird because he has the potential to rank high, but he'd rather not go that route if it isn't necessary. Outsourcing to criminals would require extra work. He'd prefer to stay in the realm of legality for convenience's sake, perhaps pushing gray areas, but nothing that'll require a major coverup. Just a little good old-fashioned coercion if you're being stubborn about returning his affections. He's crafty, he needn't get his hands dirty to obtain the outcome he desires. Should you be of an academic inclination, he'll utilize his influence in those spheres to impede your progress. There's no physical evidence so you have no means of retaliation. Given his dispassionate demeanor, people will have a hard time believing you should you tell them about this. Alhaitham himself will utilize a similar tactic should you ever confront him. His sound logic and steady voice make you wonder if you really are imagining everything. It's maddening.
Cyno — 7.5/10
Cyno is a force of nature. Once he's set his sights on you, that's it. While it isn't you who needs to be frightened per se, the same cannot be said for those he deems as questionable influences in your life (basically anyone who isn't him that receives your attention). He has the authority and resources to comb through their entire bloodline for any potential wrongdoings. No one's lived a perfect life, he's bound to find something, even if it just ends with them having to pay a fine. Still, in a highly competitive area like Sumeru, having anything on their record is a death sentence. Rumors start circulating that anyone who hangs out around you is subject to meticulous background checks. No one knows why, but that doesn't matter, the risk alone serves as a sufficient deterrent. If they cheated on a test when they were ten, Cyno is going to find out. The man's nothing if not determined. Cyno genuinely thinks he's doing this in your best interest — his conscience is crystal clear. This adds another layer of formidability because there will be no convincing him to stop.
Wanderer — 9/10
As Scaramouche, it would've been a 10/10, but he's had some character development. Emphasis on the word some. Nahida considers his budding attachment to you a healthy development, especially since you're the first person he's taken an active interest in without her involvement. He's keen on maintaining this innocent, well-meaning façade since he's still under surveillance for his previous crimes. This unintentionally works wonders for him. While he still has a sharp tongue, the fact he actively chooses to be in your general vicinity proves you're special to him. You think he's harmless, if not a touch blunt. He's perpetually hanging around and offering to help with whatever you're up to. You're happy, Nahida's happy, and surprisingly enough, he's happy. This cannot be said for anyone else in your friend group. He increases his unpleasantness when around them, never to an incriminating degree, but just enough to give them pause. They'd rather not deal with him and he's always around you, like a miserable little forcefield that repels any outside force. Wanderer may not be free to wreak havoc anymore, but all that means is that he has to get creative about it. Nahida's lack of omnipotence gives him enough room to slink around. Where there's a will, there's a way.
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yanderehsr · 6 months
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Imagine being in a relationship with a yandere and not knowing that they're yandere but you think that they're unhappy in the relationship so you break up with them
Sure, you didn't specify a fandom or characters so I'll mix it up a bit if that's okay
Hope you'll enjoy😄
Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour, Kidnapping
Alhaitham: It isn't a surprise that you don't know he's a yandere, he is perfect in hiding his darker thoughts, it isn't a surprise either that you think he doesn't like you, even as a yandere he will be distant most of the time, he just doesn't know how to deal with his strong feelings.
The break up doesn't happen, Alhaitham's studies you so well that he can predict anything you do before you do it, he is like an akasha terminal with only information about you. He will admit that knowing that you think he hates you actually hurt him a bit, but it's all okay, all missunderstandings are cleared now, and you wont leave him again.
"Why would you think I'm unhappy, I'm never happier than when I am with you, remove such silly thoughts from your mind, dear"
Signora: It's not hard to imagine why you would think she is unhappy, she views herself as above you, that you should feel honored to be with her. No matter what she does or what she says, she never feels unhappy being with you.
Signora's reaction to you trying to break up is rage, how dare you leave her, it will take a while for her to calm down and hear you out. After hearing you think she is unhappy, she will start to be softer towards you, she doesn't want this to happen again. You will recieve more compliments even if she isn't the best at them.
"You aren't allowed to leave me, how could you ever think that I'm unhappy after all I've done for you"
Jingliu: She acts cold even to you, sure she may keep an arm around you at all time but it wouldn't be a surprise if you think she is forcing it for you, her face barely ever changes even to you and her blindfold always stay on, she gives a lot of mixed signals.
A break up with Jingliu would never end well, she wouldn't hesitate to remove a few limbs to make you stay, even if you explain it to her that she seems unhappy with the relationship she will still remove the limbs, she loves you so much, she can't risk you ever leaving her, you can't leave her if you don't have any legs now can you.
"Stop crying, you brought this upon yourself... did you really think I didn't like you, I guess I need to show you just how much you mean to me"
Hubert: He places his loyalty to Edelgard above even you, even as a yandere that wont change, Edelgard has been his whole life and sure he may love you but to put you above the empress is something he would find hard to do.
But it hurts Hubert however much he tries to hide it when you tell him he looks unhappy in the relationship, it hurts him even more when you tell him you wanna break up. He isn't unhappy, far from it, you are someone he wishes to spend the rest of his life with. You will feel a cloth over your mouth and nose as you start to black out, the last thing you see before waking up the next time is Hubert's eerie smile.
"Did you sleep well, my apologies if you feel any side effects, that wouldn't be my intention, now lay down again, I'll be back in a short while, have to make sure there isn't any way out"
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penguinlop · 10 months
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Yandere Alhaitham x Reader
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/// Ignorance Is Bliss
Summary:
You discover that your new love, Alhaitham, secretly keeps a detailed knowledge capsule about you.
cw: GN reader, spoilers for alhaitham’s lore and sumeru archon quests, yandere themes, stalking, manipulation, implied not-sfw
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Alhaitham knows better than anyone else that there's always a price to pay to enter the oasis of knowledge. 
Sanity is the ticket those desert sirens crave to check before you board. 
Enticing scrolls of information wrap around your waist and weary legs, dragging you toward the mirage of gilded wisdom. They dance around, heated faces burned from the whispers of sand. The glistening flow of cleansing texts and books containing forbidden, convoluted details tempts people's thirst. 
It's all for the enlightenment. An intoxicating euphoria of comprehension, to feel the ivory branches and leaves of Irminsul flood their senses. Perhaps it's the glory, that "aha!" moment people desire. They want to fatten their parched egos and satisfy that sinister appetite. They hunger to be better than everyone else by knowing and achieving more, by finding the Holy Grail first. 
Knowledge is the charmer; people are the sinful serpents. 
As with any personal research project for him, it started with discovering the topic of interest
Alhaitham prides himself on being a man with principles rooted in logic. Rationality is the key to clarity. Dreams are mere distractions. They are fanatical fantasies that the mind plays to taunt and deceive. The Sages endlessly speak of how emotions only get in the way of breaking the Samsara and reaching Nirvana. 
Perhaps the moon can only hope to achieve the greatness of the sun. 
That is why it was noon when he first laid eyes on you in the House of Daena.
You smelt of orange blossom.
How could he forget that contemplative look as you searched for yellowing books riddled with dust to pique your interest and aid your studies? It was nothing out of the ordinary, a common spectacle rather. As a fellow member of the Akademiya, you were simply another eager student to him.  
Holding onto such a meaningless encounter wouldn't be rational. He didn't even bother to gather information on you via the Akasha as a testament to his word. 
But one evening, as the lustrous moon wailed in its cage, Alhaitham found you near the beautiful Sanctuary of Surasthana. It was a clear night with a gentle breeze, the perfect time to  contemplate and relax amidst the choir of dusk birds. He was going up there to take a quick breather. There were too many annoying meetings he had to attend.  
With a telescope in hand and a notebook neatly laid on a stone bench nearby, you gazed at the glorious heavens. A faint fragrance of rose water clung to your skin. However, that's hardly what he noticed at the time. There it was again: that contemplative look. They say the scholars of the Akademiya hold the weight of Teyvat by carrying the burden of denying ignorance, the blistering desire to keep on learning. Some seek to know more and more, even as they meet their fated end. It's an addictive, maddening cycle of peeping into the elusive unknown and searching for answers. 
Yet you looked so peaceful. It was refreshing to see. 
Alhaitham couldn't help but reminisce about the words his grandmother left him with. 
"May my child Alhaitham lead a peaceful life." 
"Lovely, aren't they?" you whispered as tenderly as dancing Padisarahs when you noticed his form enter the Sanctuary's vicinity. "Many say the stars are mysterious, but I think they can be quite playful. Every day I unveil more. It's like they ask me to come and be with them" A simple glance nearly made him burn with curiosity. He suddenly felt parched. "I'm sorry if I startled you. I can often get carried away with my studies." You chuckled at the cunning man. Maybe he couldn't even hear you with his headphones on.  
Alhaitham crossed his arms and sighed. "It's fine. I should've known someone from the school of Rtawahist would be up here stargazing. I will be heading off then." Your telescope and blue robes were a telltale sign of your discipline; it was but a mere elementary-level deduction. 
"Are you sure you don't want to stay? I don't want you to feel like I am hogging the place." The fragrance of rose water came oh-so-slightly closer. It was too sweet and enticing. The pragmatic man couldn't help it. He discretely used his Akasha on you. 
After learning of your name and basic information, he came to the blatant conclusion that he needed to leave. Immediately. 
Once again, he thought of his grandmother. 
"You are such a smart child, but you must take care to have a clearer mind than others. You must understand that vain pursuits are but dust."
His mind was fogging up with too many eccentric yearnings. Aside from facts hastily gathered from the Akasha, he knew nothing about you. 
It needed to stay like that.
He nearly scoffed. What was this? That old tale of Layla and Majnun? The man who went insane from love. Give me a break. What use would itching love be to his aspirations? At best, this was but a fleeting attraction. It would go away eventually. 
"Look, I don't think either of us have any more time to waste." Alhaitham reviewed you once more before curtly turning around and walking away. "Now then, goodbye." 
He had made sure to study the contours of your face, your eye color, your height, your posture, how your clothes fit you, and, most of all, that scent of rose water. But, really, it was all to avoid you for future reference. Yes, understanding one's subject is critical. 
You raised your eyebrow as you saw his form grow smaller and smaller. Then, tilting your head up, you looked at the hypnotizing stars and deathly pale moon, trying to read your destiny and find the absolute truth. 
Before he could completely escape your view, you used your Akasha Terminal on him. Perhaps you were also too curious. Sumeru's ideals were fostered by you quite well.
Huh, so his name is Alhaitham…What a mysterious man.  
___
The art of coffee-making is a methodical process. 
Roast, ground, brew, and serve. 
It was akin to the process of learning that Alhaitham used: read, break down, reorganize, and question. 
Depending on the customer's order, it could be embellished with spices such as cardamom, cinnamon, or saffron. In some cases, sugar may be added. 
Alhaitham likes it dark and plain, an afternoon refreshment for the man on the go. While Puspa Café is a common place for social gatherings of people across all walks of life, ranging from lowlife sycophants to wishful merchants, he prefers to be alone. Solitude isn't as vexing as many claim. It allows him to think about his current ordeals. Moreover, it gives him time to read. 
That day, one problem had left him quite disturbed. 
The Dendro user has always been in-tune with his body. Ever since the brief confrontation that night, he had been physically and mentally agitated, with a fluctuating heartbeat, clammy hands, accelerated breathing, and racing thoughts. Coffee was a possible solution he believed could mitigate any troublesome symptoms. But, of course, in moderation. His roommate, Kaveh, could learn about the word moderation. 
Yet this afternoon's refreshment only made it worse.
There you were again. 
A ghastly deev haunting his every footstep. Spreading tendrils of nightmares across his skin to choke his throat, vivisecting his beating heart and rumbling mind to capture any essence of starry wisdom and pragmatic musings. 
Closing the book he was reading, he noticed the color of the coffee that spewed out of your brass dallah. It was so light. Just from the sight of it, he could taste the nauseating sweetness, too lightly roasted, with too much sugar, honey, and spice. Scoffing, he bets you even untraditionally added milk to lessen the bitter taste. Children are the only ones who dream in this nation, yet one quick look at you was enough to guess that you never truly grew up.
As if you wanted to solidify his observation, your eyes glowed and the corners of your lips curled up when you spotted him. You made your way over to his table and asked if he would like to join you with a spring in your step. 
Amidst the overpowering, bold scent of coffee clouding the café, he smelt it the moment you came closer.
Jasmine. 
Were your decisions rooted in spontaneity, or did you cycle through a collection of perfumes? He couldn't help but ponder the answer as you awaited his response. 
"Sure." 
He adored the way you perked up at the sound of one word. A waitress quickly helped to arrange a larger table for you two. 
This was just a way to get more information out of you. Nothing more, nothing less. 
Yes, you could be of use to him. The third time's a charm, they say. 
You quickly got comfortable, too comfortable. "Would you like to share some baklava or maamoul cookies? They are quite delicious, though I can order something else for you if you don't like them. Be my guest!" With a slight, delicate movement of your hand, you gestured to the assortment of sweets laying on a brass tray. 
"No. I'm fine. Foods with such high levels of sugar only leave me restless at night. It's a nuisance to deal with while I'm trying to work. You should know better, too. Thank you, though." 
You awkwardly glanced away. "I see…Well, that's not a problem. The offer is always there if you change your mind." Looking down at your hands nestled in your lap, you maneuvered the dying conversation elsewhere and swiftly began to ask about his job as the Akademiya's Scribe. The dreamy gleam in your eyes never faded
He couldn't get enough. His illogical thirst was growing.
His flesh began to blaze with anticipation. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad to entertain this romantic fantasy for a bit. Things could be tested with you. He was never one to be enthralled with the concept of love. It was too frivolous and melodramatic, but he supposed studious scholars never limit their perspectives. 
"So, what's it like?" you chirped. 
Why must you question him? He wanted to know more about you, everything there was to know. No, he had to know in order to finally get this greedy parasite wishing to feast on every bit of you out of his mind. Such a visceral need was consuming every inch of his very being. All semblances of practicality were withering before his eyes. No amount of bitter coffee was enough to quench the anxiety that plagued his mind, nor his bouncing knees, as you persistently asked him about his work and Darshan of Haravatat. 
Of course. 
How could he be so ignorant? His approach was all wrong. 
Alhaitham graduated with top grades at the Akademiya; his professors commended him for quickly deciphering incredibly elaborate ancient runes and grasping unfathomably complex syntax and structure. 
You were like that. 
You were a puzzle waiting to be unveiled and exposed to him and him alone. The world has no need of getting to view such convoluted beauty. A rare individual you were, indeed. You managed to hold on to such childish ways of wanting to dream while still maintaining a mature air of unmatched wisdom in your research. 
Alhaitham began the next phase of his project. 
Studying the subject.  
He thanked his grandmother for the lessons she taught him. All he had to do was clear his mind, and the path to wisdom was unfolding. 
___
None of it was wrong. 
No sane student at the Akademiya would ever take their exam blindly or be unprepared for a debate. Comprehension and studying are critical components to achieving success. So why set yourself up for failure? 
Before asking if you would reciprocate his feelings, he had to know first. So many calculated scenarios were emerging through his mind as he thought of what would happen if he didn't make sure beforehand. He couldn't possibly let himself look like some idiot. He had to find out the exact percentage of success, no matter what it took. 
After all, Alhaitham's hands were never the cleanest, even if he did like a cushy life. 
That is why he felt no guilt when he asked to walk you home. It was very late at night. You were stargazing again. He just wanted to be useful.  
Each step was seared into his mind. Each item of interest you pointed out on the way left him with more questions. Upon reaching your abode, sparks of pride flooded into his veins. He had guessed you lived in this area. You often walked here during mornings and later hours; it was a straightforward conclusion. Nothing special. 
A tender smile graced your beautiful face. It was brimming with gratitude. 
He ensured you entered safely and locked the door. It was only when all the lights were out did he truly depart, though. He had to see the peaceful expression on your face as you slept. 
Once Alhaitham arrived home, he felt conflicted. Reasonably, there was no chance he could ever forget anything from today. Yet humans aren't without their respective flaws, especially involving memory. He didn't dare to ruminate on what may occur if he were to somehow forget even one piece of information you blessed him with. Every tidbit and morsel you fed him was significant in nature. 
It was all part of his investigations.  
However, he couldn't write such crucial facts in some random notebook. No, no; such things must remain strictly confidential. It was only logical. What if he misplaced it? Or even worse, what if his obnoxious roommate got to it? He rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue.
Summoning an empty knowledge capsule that he had obtained when he was ordered to draft more ordinances for the Sages, Alhaitham flooded it with every bit of data he had on you, from your slumbering form to your mellow smile and contemplative look. It was all there. Safe and sound, ready for him to access at any time. 
Before resting, he thought of the way you smelt of orange blossom again. 
___
You next met one morning at the Akademiya. 
You wore no fragrance today. 
Chuckling, you noticed Alhaitham stride towards you impatiently. He was clutching a small, decorative bag. After exchanging simple greetings, he handed it over to you. There was neither a frilly explanation nor a blooming blush on his handsome face. Instead, he had a sharp and clean approach. 
"Here, this is for you." 
Though not one to express his emotions so as to maintain an unreadable body language, you had picked up on a few of his habits. He seemed eager. It was charming to think about how he grew more casual and open around you. To the untrained eye, one may think he wasn't fond of you at all, but you knew. That realization was enough to keep you on your toes. 
One previous evening, the glimmering stars and bygone moon sisters breathlessly spoke of your future. It was challenging to decipher, but you stuck to your beliefs that the stars don't lie, and you were greatly rewarded.
The confirming chill that the divine gales of the night brought to you all spoke of the same fortune. 
"There is a man that treasures every bit of you." 
Despite sounding like good tidings, a hole in your stomach grew.
It started off as a tiny sapling. You suspected it to be anxiety for upcoming deadlines or the usual fatigue from nights spent stargazing. Something that could easily be brushed off. Yet branches and roots ravaged and wrapped around your organs as you heard the consistent sound of soil crunching beneath one's feet. Be it dawn or dusk, such dreadful mirages pained your spirit.
But with Alhaitham, it stopped. Perhaps it was a side effect of being in love. Being so on edge around him had taken a toll on you. Is this why the Sages warn of pursuing things such as love? You couldn't help but wonder. 
Nevertheless, it wasn't an appropriate time to have your heads in the clouds. 
You quickly tore off the patterned wrapping paper and grinned. It was exactly what you needed: more jasmine-scented perfume! Just the glass bottle itself was astonishingly exquisite, encrusted with jewels and detailed with gold. You could tell it was expensive. 
"I can't take this. This must've cost you a fortune! I really can't accept this. Though I did just run out of mine… You should return it and use the money for something more useful. Besides, I'm fine with using the cheaper one I usually purchase!"
Returning the bottle to the small bag, you tried to give it back to the man standing before you. 
Alhaitham hated the way you acted. This was just a quick gift he purchased at the Grand Bazaar. It was nothing. He knew you had run out of your usual exactly the day prior. Alhaitham simply saw an opportunity and decided to strike. Honestly, he only studies what interests him. You should know that by now. Why bother with the inessential? 
"Don't be ridiculous.” His eyes narrowed oh-so-slightly. “It was just something I thought you might like. Anyway, keep it. I have no need for such things." 
Still lacking confidence, you treaded carefully, "Well…If you say so. I will treasure it by wearing it every day! Thank you, Alhaitham." Inspecting the perfume bottle again, you couldn't help but smile. "It's almost like a miracle that you gifted me this because I just ran out of my usual. I really want to thank you somehow…."
Bullseye. 
"Hmm… Is that so? Never mind, we will get to that later." He placed his hand underneath your chin and pulled your face from side to side to inspect you. "You haven't been sleeping well, have you? Your eyebags are much more prominent." 
Twinges of insecurity rang through your bones as he examined your appearance. I suppose that's how he shows he cares? Looking down, you played with the strings of the gift bag and tried to awkwardly collect yourself. "Lack of sleep is common for my studies, but I have been a bit more jumpy than usual when I rest, that's all. Perhaps you were right back then…Too much sugar." Your voice grew weaker. "It's nothing, really." 
"If it's ‘nothing’ as you claim it to be, then you wouldn't be so distressed. Come on, spit it out." There was no need to sugarcoat things. Many of his former classmates gossip that he is a ruthless robot, but he doesn't mind such statements. To him, it's better to clear things away than regret it later. 
Not wanting to look into his eyes, you glanced at the other students in the Akademiya mingling with their like-minded colleagues and friends. Dejectedly, you scratched the back of your neck, then quickly gestured to the door with your head. "Let's talk outside, shall we?" 
Sitting under a pavilion, you apologized for the sudden request to head outdoors. Alhaitham remained unfazed. Rigid and cold, silently awaiting a reply. 
First, you breathed in, then shakily exhaled before speaking, "Okay, then. I think someone is stalking me. I can't give you a proper explanation as to why, but I just know. It really has left me so scared. I won't lie, the feeling disappears when I'm with you...." With a heated face, you quickly looked to Alhaitham for validation as you poured out your feelings. "But, um, of course! You are an extremely accomplished individual. Anybody would feel better with you since you're the Scribe, after all." 
He scoffed, "I think Kaveh would beg to differ about your last statement." 
You laughed. 
It was simply perfect. He just wanted to caress your face and tell you how good you were being for him. Yes, so good. So naive. 
"Let's do an experiment. Why don't you stay at my place for a day or two and see what happens?" He couldn't help but smirk at how you shrunk under his all-knowing stare. "If you don't want to, I can think of another solution. However, I believe we have become quite close, and I'm sure you would enjoy it. Besides, Kaveh is out for a bit. But in the end, it's your choice, of course." 
"Well, if you insist…." You took out the perfume bottle and daintily sprayed it on your neck and wrists; you enjoyed how his keen eyes soaked you in. "Thank you for being so kind. You know me so well, Alhaitham." 
"Yes, I really do." 
___
In Sumeru City, when it rains, it pours. 
Streets flood with incinerating kisses and sensual touches intertwined with a rich, floral fragrance. 
To many, Alhaitham is known as a lunatic. Such a name fits the man whose mind was devoured by jasmine perfume. 
He couldn't get enough. 
Every inch of you, he had to learn about. He needed to properly store and encode such mesmerizing information into the recesses of his gluttonous mind. 
That intoxicating perfume permeated Alhaitham’s room and desperately held onto disheveled sheets. It was akin to the incense that scholars use to clear their minds and focus their bodies to become one with Irminsul. Yes, it was just like that. 
You couldn't help but feel so safe in his arms. The stars really do never lie. 
He loved every bit of you.
___ 
Sunlight peeked through translucent cotton curtains and illuminated the room. 
Alhaitham kissed your forehead and greeted you with a simple "Good morning" as you moved his hair from his face and took in his features. The intense perfume still persistently laced through his sheets. 
The domesticity of it all, from changing together to preparing breakfast, swelled your heart. It had been quite a while since you were last able to unwind like this. 
Alhaitham quickly took notice of your lax movements. Good. You were enjoying yourself as planned. By the time he's done, you won't be able to tell the difference between an innocent Sumeru Rose and a vicious Venus Flytrap.
He looked you up and down again. "How do you feel? Did you sleep okay?" 
"Yes, I haven't felt this relaxed for a while. Ever since I joined my Darshan, sleep has become a luxury. It was especially bad when I was first learning the basics because I would have to stay up all night long to study the stars and keep up with other research. At one point, I developed severe insomnia, but I’m fine now. Anyway… Yes, I did sleep well. This is the first time I’ve felt safe in a long while. Thank you, Alhaitham." 
He nodded and spoke, "That's good. If we are going to continue this relationship, then maybe in the future we can discuss more complex matters, such as living together more permanently."  
Your eyes widened as you took in his statement, but you soon giggled, “A little hasty, aren’t we, Alhaitham?” You poked fun at him. “What about poor Mister Kaveh?” 
He rolled his eyes at your teasing. 
Then he shrugged and bluntly defended himself, "It's only rational to think about these things, especially with your situation. Besides, I'm only putting them on the table—" 
There was a knock at his door. 
He noticed your jaw tighten in fear. Alhaitham pulled the strings of the puppet and played along with you. He muttered into your ear to hide from the front door's view just in case.  
The Scribe loved the way you obediently followed his orders and trusted so wholeheartedly everything that he said.  
When he opened the door, he didn't expect to be greeted by the Grand Sage Azar's assistant: Setaria. 
She told him how the Akademiya lost a knowledge capsule about the divine and how the Grand Sage wished for him to gather information on a certain blonde traveler.
A divine knowledge capsule and a heroic traveler from afar. How interesting. 
He crossed his arms and unceremoniously spoke, "I'll start my assignment soon." With that, he nodded, closed the door, and went silent again. Annoyance ran through his veins as he was pulled along into the Grand Sage's plot. A peaceful life as the Scribe was all he desired. Was it really that hard for the Akademiya to provide that?  
Turning around, the reserved man called for you. Your name rolled off his tongue too well, as if he was made to be the sole person on this forsaken continent to cherish and pronounce it. You carefully popped your head out from behind his bedroom door, the corners of your kissable lips turned down, forming a slight frown. 
"Is it all good?"
"Yes, it was just someone from the Akademiya for work. Speaking of, I have a little surprise for us." Alhaitham seemed to look right through you. "Do you want to hear it?" There was an excitement bubbling deep inside of him. Your stomach began to ache as he cloaked himself in mystery. 
You felt those hawk eyes analyze you again. "Uh, sure?" 
"How would you feel about going to Port Ormos for some academic research?" 
___
Alhaitham convinced you that it would help your situation. You could see if that uneasy feeling would follow you on your journey to the port. 
While the actual job itself is mundane and uneventful, as the Scribe, he receives many benefits. One was being sponsored by the Akademiya to stay in an upscale hotel with many amenities. 
Your shared suite had a lovely balcony with a nice view of the sea. Breathing in the refreshing salty air on a balmy day was energizing after being cooped up in such a stifling city of arrogant wisdom. Mere fool's gold.  
"If you want to go and explore, I would advise you to remain within the hotel grounds or near places that are guarded or populated in case anything were to happen. 
You turned to him. "Thank you for your concern, but I will just stay here. It's a nice room. I'll enjoy the breeze and finish up my papers on the balcony. Perhaps in your free time, we can do something together?"  
He thought about it for a second. "I'll see."
You deflated a bit. "Well, when do you think you'll come back?"
"Not anytime soon."
"Oh..."
"Anyway, I should be leaving now." Alhaitham pecked your cheek before heading out.
After unpacking, you began writing rough ideas for your ongoing thesis in your worn-out leather journal. As the clock kept ticking and the hours passed, you grew bored. Small sketches of constellations were sloppily drawn on the side with little notes as you tried to jot down as much information as possible. Becoming distracted, you began to doodle Alhaitham's constellation: Vultur Volans. You wanted to unveil so much more about him. You wanted the stars to guide you in your journey. 
Yet just as you were about to finish your little doodle, your pen ran out of ink.
You scribbled a few lines and circles to test it out one last time before throwing it in a nearby trash bin. It was nothing. A simple delay. 
Before going inside, you closed your leather journal and placed it on top of the stack of scrap papers so they wouldn't fly away. Going to your side of the bed, you opened your Adhigama wood nightstand and pulled out a few spare pens. However, when you sat down and attempted to use them, they didn't work. It was fine. You just happened to bring a bad batch. That was all. 
You knew Alhaitham brought a brand new set with him. It was still in his luggage, though... He was in such a hurry to start his job here in Port Ormos that he had no time to unpack. You always admired his diligence; it's what got him so far so quickly. He was your age, but you were still far behind. Though you couldn't blame him for tuning the world out and focusing just on his studies, he lost so much at such a young age. He was brave to keep looking towards the future despite his parents being gone. Even if he would say, "It was just the most rational thing to do." 
Alhaitham is a man with principles rooted in logic. He would understand why you were rummaging through his things. It wasn't an invasion of privacy! You two were a couple now; albeit new, the love was evident already. 
You were just going to borrow his pens, anyway. 
As you unlocked his luggage and looked for his case of supplies, you stumbled upon two similar containers in appearance and weight. Ugh! Which one was it? I suppose I'll just have to open them both… 
Moving your hand towards the zipper, you noticed your hand shake. Perhaps it was just getting cold. You had left the glass balcony door open, only closing the screen. The soft sound of the breeze and smell of sea salt slithered up your spine, invading your ear canals and nostrils. 
You placed your fingers on the zipper of the bag on the left. The sound of it unzipping was akin to the rustles of leaves and branches in a dark rainforest. What you found inside was a knowledge capsule. 
The pens were in the other bag. 
That was all. Alhaitham works under the Grand Sage. Of course you were bound to find certain items only he should be privy to. 
Yet why was it calling you like the irresistible knowledge that spills from the ivory, archaic branches of Irminsul? It was most likely empty, anyway, waiting to be filled with the information he would discover in the bustling Port Ormos. Why was the hollow, ravaging feeling in your stomach and heart returning to once again suffocate your organs and dry up your blood into grains of sand? 
Your journal was waiting for you. Opening the other bag, you got what you wanted. 
His pens. 
That was what you came for. 
However, the sharp pains and shivers ringing through your body reeled you into the infested desert and the pouring rainforest. A peek wouldn't hurt. Alhaitham would understand, right? He was the one that brought you here, after all, to keep an eye out for your situation. 
Yes, he's a man who knows his morals. Besides, how would he even know? It would be alright. He said himself that he wouldn't be coming anytime soon. 
As you gripped the green and gold knowledge capsule pulsing and flowing with information, you felt so conflicted. The unease was growing, yet you felt so sure that you were meant to do this. Opposing thoughts contrasted each other like fields of flowers flourishing amidst dunes of lifeless sand. It truly nauseated you.  
After establishing a connection with it, you felt it. A flash of memories entered into the recesses of your mind. As if two consciousness were merged together to form one single entity, you felt vines and tendrils weaving through your anatomy. Nearly every bit of knowledge you gained was something you already had experienced. Yet it was from a different perspective. Your face, your body, your studies, your smiles, your slumber, your pens, even your perfume. 
It was all there, only from a different angle.
For so long, you saw life from the eyes of a feeble mouse. Now, you could see what it was like to view the world from the perspective of a hungry vulture ready to gobble up its prey. You dropped the canned knowledge. You barely heard the thud it made with the flooring, as it was drowned out by all of the thoughts racing through your mind. 
Your eyes scattered to the open glass door with the closed screen. The breeze and saltiness of the sea were still there. 
It felt so far. 
Running to the balcony, you rushed to lock the glass door and fumbled to close the cotton curtains. 
"Didn't anyone teach you to clean up after yourself?" 
Alhaitham's voice made everything cold. Sharply turning your head, you faced the man who both tormented your life and made it so beautiful. He came back so soon. Too soon. 
"Once the Matra knows about this, you will go to prison, Alhaitham, for what you did to me!" Your hands were shaking as you bunched them into fists and furrowed your eyebrows. Tears were threatening to spill at any moment. 
He merely crossed his arms. His precise, uptight composure never faltered. "You think the Matra will do anything to me? I'm the Scribe. The right hand of the Grand Sage." He stepped closer to you. “Did you know there once was a Rtawahist student who was so desperate for sleep that they went to Port Ormos and looked for knowledge capsules to help their studies and cure their insomnia? The Matra were never able to track down the culprit." Alhaitham walked closer to you. "However, I think today, that could change. The usage of canned knowledge to gain an advantage over one’s peers in the Akademiya is strictly against the rules." He was always one step ahead of you.
"Is it not?"
Cupping your face and forcing you to look at his darkening eyes, he stared into you, drinking up the way you brimmed with fear. Just how he liked it. Everything was falling into place as calculated. He whispered into your ear. "Think of this as the 'thank you' you said you would give me that day." 
Alhaitham embraced you tightly, taking in the exquisite jasmine perfume he gifted you. Trembling in his arms, you felt so small and helpless. Dreams shattered as you thought of everything that you had learned. The stars and wise moon didn't lie to you that night. There's a man who loves you with all his being. There's a man who knows everything about you.  
Seeking what is forbidden will always be the downfall of humanity. 
Perhaps ignorance truly is bliss. 
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Thank you so much for reading!!!
(⺣◡⺣)♡*
812 notes · View notes
iloveyouinred · 9 months
Text
Yandere!Alhaitham x Reader
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𓇬♡ | Warning: NSFW, size kink, noncon, drug, reader being tied, implying obsessive behavior, etc
𓇬♡ | Word Count: 1k
𓇬♡ | Note: I used the poll result!(It's not over yet, but both you and i know what the upcoming result is-). I am sleep deprived so please feel free to criticise this work. And I want to apologize for people who comment in my blog(I can't reply to you because it will expose my other blog, but I'll send mix signal in tag⚘️). Please enjoy!
Part 1| Part 2| Part 3
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In your pathetic state, Alhaitham come in the picture like a knight in a shining armor. You tought he would be your savior, yet not even The Scribe can resist the temptation of your sinfull body.
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Alhaitham never imagined he would live to see the day where Kaveh stride from his moral code. The Scribe is a man bound by logic. He takes pride in his beliefs, and does things that serve his objectives. He never understands the mind of his blonde roommate, taking care of people in the street is one thing, but this view in front of him really takes him by surprise. 
"What is this, Kaveh? Are you bringing a prostitute home?" He asks in calm demeanour. Shifting eyes from the body deliciously display before him, to the blonde man. Kaveh's smile turned upside down almost instantly.
"Hey, appreciate my present a little, wouldn't you?" He shrugged. Not expecting much- after all this is Alhaitham. "Anyway, you will like her. I promise." 
Alhaitham raised an eyebrow in his friend's confidence. "I don't like used good." Green eyes drifted to the white sustain bubbling out your hole. He can only see the back of your head as he walks past his blonde roommate. 
"Even Though it's that woman?" At the line Alhaitham fell silent. His eyes flicker as he watches your familiar figure, he rushes to lift your head that has been flattened to the cushion's soft surface. "..Archon." He let out a breathless whisper, as if the air was sucked out of his lung.
"How about it?" Kaveh can't help but smile proudly at The Scribe's lack of words. 
"You are out of your mind." There was an inexplicable emotion embedded in his voice. Alhaitham is obviously furious, yet there was something else. It's as if some kind of foreign feeling intruded into his heart.
"I had my share, now it's your turn." Kaveh said. Doesn't want to deal with Alhaitham's words once he regains his composure. "Just leave it if you don't want to." He walked out of the door, leaving The Scribe with your tied body.
Alhaitham was planning to unbound the ropes on your body. Yet when he watches your flushed face, eyes can't meet his own because they lose focus. Your little body is bound by ribbons and rope, just in the right position to be used by him. His heart waver. Whatever sense of justice he had left in his mind evaporated in the warm air of the room when he felt your soft skin beneath his palm. The way your waist fits perfectly in his grip as if it were designed for him. He thinks of a way to ask for forgiveness, when he feels his cock throbbing on the sight of you from behind.
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You were half conscious when you heard the sound of two men bickering not too far from where you lay. It didn't take long before one storm off outside with the sound of door slamming shut. You hear approaching footsteps from the only man left in the room with you. Will this man loosen the ropes that bind your body, because your limbs started to feel numb. You can't hear anything, because the man doesn't utter a single word, but you could feel his tight grips on your hips.
You didn't have time to say anything when he slammed what feels like an extremely fat cock into your hole. You gasp as he starts to move in and out. While he is consumed by his own lust, continuously thrusting into you at a quick pace. Your own body struggles to keep up with his movement, but he feels your walls clamping down at him, sucking him in, just like he needed you to. You are the woman of his dreams after all. The pretty girl that is on the sad side has fallen head over heels with the man that acts like your guard dog.
Alhaitham clenched his teeth as he recalled your smile around the red haired man. Jealousy filled his heart, he brings his face down to bite your shoulder. Licking, biting, and sucking aggressively- leaving marks on every skin on your back where his tongue passes. The ache in his heart subsides a little when he observes your trembling body underneath him- your little back coloured red with his marks and love bites- with your neck looking tiny in comparison to his large hand that clasps it. His gaze lowered down, watching the way your greedy cunt struggles to devour his thick length, yet desperately creaming on it. What a pretty girl you are.
If he could get his name tattooed on your body, he would have his initial- maybe a tiny 'A' engraved in the middle of your lower back, just right up your ass. The thought of his name adorning your lower spine alone left his cock throbbing. Your muffled moan was like fuel to fire. You recieve his sharp thrust like an obedient little kitten. When both of you know well you can't even move a single finger without feeling the rope digging into your skin.
He kisses the back of your neck grunting against your soft skin, whispering how you will know who your true owner is, before nibbling on your ear. You hole tighten around him as his thrust grows deeper. Sounds of skin slapping and your strangled moans filling the room. You could feel his breath grow heavy above you. The pace of his thrust grew frantic in chasing both of your orgasms. With his thrust constantly prodding against your spongy spot, it doesn't take long before you gush all around his length. He sends a few more snaps of his hips before letting your cervix sucks his sperm in.
You were too exhausted to remain conscious to feel him moving again. At least you won't feel him finish his loads of cum inside of you or get scared of getting pregnant with how deep his cock penetrates you, pushing against your cervix with each thrust. Even if you are unconscious right now, Alhaitham is making sure your body will absolutely remember the taste of his cock, shaping your inside to fit him alone. He will fuck you so hard that your pussy will learn to wet itself at the mere presence of his cock. And you will helplessly submit to him, If he ever gets a chance to lay his hand on you again. 
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839 notes · View notes
harmonysanreads · 4 months
Text
When you hug them for the first time.
characters : al haitham, neuvillette, scaramouche, furina
cw(s) : very gentle yandere themes, everyone is surprised pikachu in different styles
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──⚝ al haitham
For the first time in his life, while being at least two consistent steps ahead of everyone — Al Haitham finds himself at a loss.
Perhaps that had been your intention as well, a part of him suspects. You were certainly not the first in this endeavor, seeing a usually composed person behave contradictorily to their nature is, unfortunately, the source of amusement for a specific group of people and, bewilderment for unsuspecting onlookers. Albeit, the Scribe doubts the former to be your main objective because, the last wicks of rebellion were snuffed out by his persistent hands. The mesolimbic pathway of the brain is known to regulate incentive salience and many reward related behaviors, Alhaitham knows this much because of continued perusal. Indeed, science can explain many things, logic can place things on a concrete scale.
The Scribe may also try to rationalize the feelings you create within him in ways that fit his comfort zone, but, more often than not, they fail to prove satisfactory. You alone have the supreme power of luring him out of his shell by simply existing beside him, and he, the foolish scholar parched in search of enlightenment, follows the mirage's call each time. Many have tried to tear his ataraxia to shreds and only one has succeeded. Which is why, he remains still, unmoving, muscles terse from the pull of his pride. Maybe giving a last chance to his ego, seeing, if ignoring this gnawing addiction would shoo it away for good, and of course, he is a foolish man.
He hadn't done anything in that precise moment but, later that night, he had held you tighter than he ever had.
──⚝ neuvillette
It is universally acknowledged that justice bends to no one, but, what verdict should be declared upon the person, who drives the very symbol of justice insane?
It is both Neuvillette's delight and agony the control you have over him. You keep him dangling by your finger and the odd thrill that spreads across his soul from it, entices him to further entangle himself in this intoxicating chase. Sometimes, he's yanked to awareness by his conscience, it should be insulting for a man of his stature to be so helplessly smitten. The thought that he, the mighty Sovereign of Hydro, is just as susceptible to temptation as an ordinary man is, should appall him. Perhaps, they did concern him initially. Would it not have been wise to uproot the source of this burgeoning obsession from his heart when he still had the chance? Before this exact scenario which he knows will plummet him to a trench he won't be able to—will not want to—return from?
Yes, that would have been a reasonable decision. But, it'd not be so exhilarating. A drowning man from whose fingertips the surface has already escaped, finds peace in the feeling of sinking to the unknown depths. Neuvillette embraces his fall and, you'd think such desperation was impossible from one single man if you didn't feel it pressed to every inch of your skin. The Iudex's sigh will blow over your hair and in your arms will he rediscover his breath. How utterly foolish of him, why did he deny himself this sanctuary for so long?
Neuvillette is so dazed from the peace that, he wouldn't mind dying in that moment, if only he could remain in your embrace.
──⚝ scaramouche
It really is a mistake to give a man an inch who unashamedly steals a mile, but, it's too late for you to reconsider now, isn't it?
Innocent Kabukimono likes the feeling of being in your arms, it reminds him of a distant night where his mother brushed his tears aside. But, a part of him knows the way your gesture translates to him isn't quite what he had felt from his creator. Your embrace makes him secure, just like hers — but, it makes tiny sparks bloom in his vacant ribcage as well. He doesn't know what it is, or, if he wants to know. All he's certain about is that, he wants to remain in your arms forever, tucked away from the merciless eyes of fate.
Kunikuzushi's wary eyes dart across you in anticipation of a dagger at his back or, a triumphant smile for having discovered his weakness. It's not that he doesn't like this, but, more so that he can't bring himself to not complicate the gesture. Why do you give him something that no one has bothered with? He thinks it's better he remains careful—though he doesn't pull away—because, it'd break him beyond repair if you betrayed him, too.
The Balladeer is startled, out of every one of your tricks to render him speechless, this one has been the most effective yet. You should probably stick to this from now on (not that he'll say it out loud). The Harbinger would rather swallow those tooth-rotting dango than admit that there is some genuine kindness left on this cursed planet. As much as he suspects you of fostering ulterior motives, he isn't as caught up in it as Kunikuzushi that every other detail eludes his judgement. He makes a show out of how annoying he finds it, how much inconvenience you're causing him by the grip of your arms. You'd believe his words and ‘irritated’ body language as well, had his fight with the curve of his lips wasn't so blatant. Perhaps, you should apologize for hugging him without permission with a kiss, hm?
The Wanderer wonders what beget this expression of kindness. In his lone vagrancy, he's encountered the sight of these gestures periodically. His curiousity yearned to know what significance was contained in an embrace, how it felt and why he was never at the receiving end of one. These questions were pushed at the depths of his soul—or whatever it is that lets him ‘live’—where they festered into want and then hunger. This slumbering appetite was emboldened on the day he willingly bore the memories of his past. But, the weight of a lifetime rendered him tired. For once, he did not want to think, suspect or tease ; he only wished to be held without restraint.
Which is why, Wanderer is the only version of this puppet who returns your embrace.
──⚝ furina
Not even acute mastery over the art of improvisation could've prepared Furina for this out-of-script situation.
It should've come as no surprise to her, she's been the center of a nation's adoration for five centuries, people of Fontaine flock in line for the chance of catching a glimpse of their Regina. You must've been unable to contain the immense affection you have for her, just like everyone else! But, for some reason, that thought feels bitter on her tongue when applied to you. She realizes that comparing your affection to the one her people shower her with leaves her with a howling dissatisfaction. The warmth of your being and the tentative tightening of your arms make her legs wobbly, send her heart prancing and her stomach twisting in the most pleasant way.
Of course... the citizens of Fontaine love her for her performance, for the role she plays ; not and never for herself. But, the percipience that you may love the cowardly, lonely and pathetic girl she truly is — tumble upon her like a plethora of bricks and almost make her faint. When she lifts her arms next, the notion of her returning the hug is tossed promptly in the flurry of tickles. You're forced to succumb to the enticement of hearty chuckles and, she joins you — hoping that, the raucous sound of laughter will conceal the tears streaming down her face.
And she prays that, just for this one moment, she wouldn't be judged guilty.
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happiest new year to whoever is reading this, you are lovely and you'll continue to shine in the next year(s) as well<3
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allfearstofallto · 2 months
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Hey girl found your blog and loving it so far
Can I request a yandere alhaitham forcing a marriage while making it seems he is not (does that even make sense 😭)
Hi friend! I could be wrong, but I think you're asking to be gaslit and manipulated. In which case, I got you.
It's What You Wanted
Yandere! Alhaitham x Reader
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The papers in front of you had this foreboding energy around them, like you were doing something wrong, even though it was something you agreed to. Or maybe it was the ramifications of them, the papers themselves weren't scary, they were just pages after all, but it was what they meant. What they represented for you.
His name was already signed on one side in his usual neat, cursive penmanship. The other line lay blank, empty, and waiting for your name next. Your name. You. It was just waiting for you to finish it.
“Well?” He questioned into the silence that sat over the both of you. He was always so nonchalant and today was no different. One leg crossed on the other and a book sat over his knee, keeping the pages open for him to begin reading again. He was treating this as if it wasn't a major decision for him, life changing even, but that energy suited his character.
You picked up the pen, but it felt heavy in your hand and you trembled, making you sit it back down, “Don't you think this is a bit of a bad decision, Alhaitham?” You questioned with a little sweat on your brow.
“You're the one who came up with the idea,” he retorted.
You opened your mouth to defend yourself, but shut it again. What he was talking about was an offhanded comment you'd made at the table a few days ago. After a night of drinking and complaining about having to return home, at the wishes of your mother and father, you drunkenly complained on and on about your problems. Once your term was over at the academia, they expected you to be on your way back home, despite your wishes to stay.
Your parents, being the old fashioned people that they were, wouldn't listen to your word, but the word of your husband? That's what mattered most in the world to them. You muttered something about actually wishing you were married for once, how it'd make it easier for your parents to actually listen to you, but didn't say much else.
You remembered seeing Alhaitham raise an eyebrow over the cover of his book at that and take another small sip of his drink, but other than that, nothing more was said about the comment. Not until now.
“But…would this even be okay with you? This is marriage,” you tried to press the importance of this to him, but his green eyes didn't even seem phased. He was always so hard to read, unless he outright said it, you never knew what he was thinking.
“You want to stay, don't you?” His words made your stomach drop. He was right, you did want to stay. You wanted to live in Sumeru for as long as possible. You wanted to keep studying and learning. You wanted to be close to your friends.
“I do, but…”
“You should just sign it,” he pushed the paper on the table closer to you once more, “It’s better you do this with me than some random guy who'll just use this against you. Think logically.”
You sighed and looked down at the blank space. Your name was to go there, but your hesitance was eating you alive. This didn't feel right. The idea, while a fun one in theory, was one that you wouldn't be able to get yourself out of easily.
Before you had the chance to think about it more, the page was picked up. Your eyes followed it as he held it in his hands and stood from the table. He didn't look at you once as he did this, the lack of acknowledgement making your heart drop to your stomach.
“What are you doing?” You questioned rather hurriedly, surprising even yourself.
“Destroying this,” was all he said, a hint of boredom in his voice again, “It's obvious that you want to go back home with your parents, so there's no reason to keep it around. I can't risk anyone taking it and having my signature.”
The speed at which everything was happening made your mind spiral out of control. All the emotions you were feeling swirled together, crashing inside your head until all that was left was fear. Fear of having to leave, fear of losing your freedom, the fear that your last chance was just going to walk away.
“No! Wait!” You shouted and Alhaitham stopped in his tracks, “I'll- I'll sign it.” The words felt like an anchor on your chest, but you knew they were what you had to do. He was right. You didn't want to go back to your parents.
He placed the page back in front of you, but instead of sitting back down, he stood beside you. His large body hovered over yours, casting a shadow that felt even more ominous. You could feel the heat coming off of him making your skin prickle up with goosebumps.
Alhaitham picked up the pen for you, his touch was gentle as he handed it to you. His finger tips brushed across yours, his touch lingering a bit longer than it should've.
Your hand shook the entire time you wrote. Your name was scribbled, but it was yours. You'd signed it. You thought you'd breathe a sigh of relief, of joy knowing that you'd done it, you'd secured your freedom, but instead you still felt that suffocating pressure.
He picked the paper up before you could change your mind, “I'll get this registered,”
“But we'll get it annulled after talking to my parents, right?” You asked a bit neverously, a feeling of dread sinking it.
“Sure,” he responded, it sounded like his usual monotone voice or at least he was trying to make it seem that way. He was still facing away from you, so you didn't know for sure, but a part of you could swear you were hearing a smirk in his voice.
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throwaway-yandere · 1 year
Text
Dendro NA: 101 (Yandere!Alhaitham/Reader)
a/n: “ansy weren’t you going to write faceless!ayato and music composer!tighnari” well yes but things happened so now here we are. I’m dedicating this fic to crying anon since they’re the person that gave me an idea of an "what if Alhaitham had an elf!darling?" after this fic. The beginning reads like an enemies-to-lovers fic with a slice of crack where nothing goes wrong but trust me it’s not lmao
unreliable synopsis: After Alhaitham forged your signature, you're now forced to become the Acting Grand Sage’s assistant. It's even more annoying when he nearly visited your house all drugged up. Seriously, when will he learn to respect his seniors?
CW: yandere themes, noncon touching, aphrodisiacs, possessiveness, so much bickering, and the reader slanders dendro for plot reasons. 
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Pulcinella, The Rooster, came to visit early in the morning.
“Pups, please… Stop turning my apartment upside down and just tell me what you want.”
It was unexpected how the old man barged into your “unconquerable mess of an apartment” with the intent to celebrate your newfound job at the Haravatat. Mayor Pulcinella isn’t your direct grandfather, but he is your grandfather’s brother. The fact that you are connected to him is a well-known secret (as absurd an oxymoron as that may sound) in the College of Engineering and Technology at the Akademiya. Because of the collectivist mentality that characterized your family, every last pointy-eared relative you are aware of is blatantly nosy and annoying. The "mayor" is much more so.
Pulcinella did come to extend his congratulations, with a generous batch of cookies even, but he had an objective in mind. His way of showing that he cares is usually in the form of letters but he stands right in front of you now. You can only imagine how difficult it is for someone in his position to take a leave of absence this far since Port Ormos is so far away from home and it takes days for mail to arrive here.
Your grandfather is obstinate. Terrifying so since you recognize that expression on his face all too well. Although you are unsure of what he needs from you, you do know that you want him out. Immediately.
“Don’t talk to me in that tone, child.” He scowled, jabbing your briefcases with his wooden cane. “I’m not leaving until I find it.”
That "Rooster" moniker belongs to him without a doubt. Your belongings were seized by the elf-like a bird's beak. He prodded the dreadful equation-filled sheets hanging on your wall and snatched a few trinkets on your work table. Good lord. Pulcinella made so much noise that if you weren’t already planning on starting your day, you would’ve been incredibly cranky when he knocked on your door.
“For Her Majesty’s sake– just what are you trying to find, grandpups?”
He turned to look at you.
Not mad, but disappointed– sad, even.
“An engagement ring. Evidence that you’re dating that fool, Alhaitham.”
You groaned.
“Him again?! Motherf—”
Pulcinella quirked his eyebrow at your outburst, “hmm?”
You chuckled nervously, “ah, sorry, I just… It’s nothing.”
No, it was not “nothing.” That bastard ruined a lot of things for you, including your vision. You didn’t want a dendro vision. You were praying for Rex Lapis every night even after his death but somehow being involved with Alhaitham strayed your path to gaining the “grass fertilizer tool” as you loved to call it. Sure, there’s little evidence that he’s the reason behind the fact that you got a dendro vision instead of geo but that doesn’t change the fact that you want to crush him between your palms like a writhe scarab. Especially after he enlisted you as his scribe-disciple without your consent. What a complete scumbag.
Oh, to quit the Akademiya only to be forced to go back again…
But of course, your grandpups don’t know anything about this and you have ZERO intentions of letting him in on your business. If he knows, then ALL of Snezhnayan elves know.
“I’ve heard from your mother that you’ve gone lovesick and left the Akademiya,” Pulcinella spoke in a slow somber tone. “And falling recklessly in love and gaining a dendro vision does not sound like you at all.”
Eww. Lovesick? Hell no.
If it weren’t for this man, you would’ve graduated as a fully pledged civil engineer next year. If he wasn’t such a great scribe, no, forger, your signature wouldn’t be on that damn contract.
That man seriously has no respect for his seniors.
Nevertheless, it was too late to do anything. You just have to accept the consequences of your inaction. Additionally, if you're going to take this "new job," you might as well act as if you adore it.
Hooray! Don’t you love working for Alhaitham? Isn’t it fun to discard your 4 years of studying? Oh, what joy! You definitely did not burn your eyebrows out trying to ace FIFTY Kshahrewar mock tests!!!–
“Talk to me, poppet.” He continued, eyebrows knitted. His wrinkly hands reached to gently hold yours. Suddenly, you remembered that he is still family. That this was the same old major that your young self boasted their miniature construction toys to.
“I’m worried that something might’ve happened. And my dear, health is not the absence of disease or infirmity, it is also–”
“The complete state of physical, mental, AND social wellbeing. Yes. I know, Pups. You nearly forced me to study medicine.” You groaned and palmed your forehead, weak but playful.
He chuckled heartily.
The old man’s rather soft with you compared to his other grandchildren. If he wasn’t, you’d likely find yourself as Il Dottore’s new assistant.
Although most people would find working for a harbinger, especially The Doctor, to be a complete nightmare, you concluded that being Alhaitham's slave was the epitome of "overrated garbage," and you despise the scribe so much you can't even remember his appearance. Sure, Layla’s jealous that you’re essentially set for life by being a scribe assistant but at least Dottore gives his assistants a hefty pay (discounting his crimes against humanity…)
You’re not proud to call Alhaitham your boss. That stupid #093c0d face doesn’t make your 2 million mora salary worth the trouble. He needs to pay for your mental health insurance–
“Are you alright, poppet? You’re looking at me like you would with one of your test slimes.”
You exhaled deeply, “sorry, I suddenly thought of a hex code #093c0d person.”
Pulcinella closed his eyes.
“A dark green shade?”
“That’s right.”
“...”
With an unreadable yet deliberate face, Pulcinella fixed his gaze on you. Your unique perspective on others didn't seem to disturb your grandpups the way it did your parents. He is one of the select few who is aware of how you assign people's personalities through colors. Pulcinella raised his glasses further up before giving a sage-like nod. The moment he crossed his arms, you knew he understood what you were trying to express.
“So it’s a lover’s quarrel.”
“Yes, exactly.”
“Wait, what– NO!!! Pups, please stop assuming shit– things!!!”
Never mind— he is SO far off.
Why is he convinced that you’re dating that prick? What the hell did your mom tell him?!
“I heard that, poppet. And do not misunderstand, I think this is a good thing.”
Your uncle-grandfather cupped your cheeks and squished them between his fingers. Perhaps this is what people consider a wholesome grandpa-grandchild dynamic– but social norms should’ve also labeled this as domestic violence. His pinching hurts. Your clipped groans made him grin wider.
“After all, this means that you have seen his flaws and true character. What better way to break a couple up than a genuine argument?”
“PWUUUPS!!!”
Pulcinella pulled his hands away.
“I felt distraught when I heard you have given up your pursuit of civil engineering and chose a career in the Haravatat,” he sighed and took off his hat, holding it against his chest. “I was rooting for you, dear. I had faith in your aspirations. Even Lord Capitano found it upsetting to learn that the future engineer I frequently boasted about had become a lesser Lord Kusanali underling.”
You squirmed and rubbed your cheeks, staring at the ground.
Lord Capitano was not someone you often interacted with, but you knew that he had an eye for talent– and he sought after yours. Perhaps this is your ego talking, but it felt like even he believed you’re best suited for an engineering course too. Other than your grandpups and subsequently his recruit, Ajax, Lord Capitano was one of the Fatuis you respected.
Alhaitham truly crushed your dreams.
“I know, Pups…”
“You know what to do, right?”
You nodded solemnly, before looking him dead in the eye. Pulcinella can see your determination clear as day.
You breathed in.
“I’m going to commit arson.”
He patted your back, smiling.
“That’s my grandchild!”
Pulcinella tip-toed and ruffled your hair.
“Alright, this old man had given up. Just show grandpups where the ring is.”
“Her majesty the Tsaritsa’s sake– I already told you Pups– ALHAITHAM AND I ARE NOT DATING!!!”
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It was an exceptionally hot evening in Sumeru City despite being far from the desert. You should be inside your apartment right now, studying the Dendro Vision book Alhaitham gave you but you’d rather be where you are now. It’s about to get warmer, yet you’d dare argue that both you and master architect Kaveh’s headache can compete with its 38°C average temperature.
“C’mon, please?”
“No, I’m not helping you burn Alhaitham’s house down.”
“What?! Why not?!”
“Damnit, (Y/n)– BECAUSE I LIVE THERE!!!”
“Oh, right.”
You flopped back to your seat, eyes rolling back, deflated.
Kaveh cried out in pain while lowering his head to the table. He somewhat resembled a dried-out raisin. He had a drinking binge the night before, so this isn't because he's not a morning person. Although you expressed regret for knocking on his (Alhaitham's) door, the architect never misses a chance to rant about his housemate. Kaveh's pain wasn't even close to how much he detested Alhaitham. Now here you both are, sitting outside Lambad’s Tavern like morons because you both forgot to bring your wallets.
Not a sight you’d expect from a master-of-all-trades (ex-)engineering student and a genius architect.
“Damn it…” You whined. “What else am I supposed to do now?”
“Await until Focalors passes her judgment,” he answered hoarsely.
In other words: curl up and die, probably.
“Yeah… Yeah, that sounds viable. Let me just go to Fontaine real quick– oh wait, I can’t, because some dumbass scribe paid the corps to keep me from reaching the borders.”
Kaveh chuckled, still caressing his headache, not caring how his messy and unwashed locks covered his eyes. You’d be surprised if he told you he didn’t just get out of bed. He appeared like he was ready to sleep for all eternity, or more accurately, Kaveh’s starting to look eerily similar to Layla. In terms of colors though, he’d still be a #ffda29 and not a #003153.
He sneered, “did the sun always look this bright, powerful, and oh-so hateful?”
“It wouldn’t look like that if you didn’t down the pitcher I left on the table last night, Kaveh.”
You both turned to look at the voice– rather, the abyss. Alhaitham stood behind you. Or at least, you think it’s him.
Okay, here’s the deal: you hate remembering his face.
You handle your memory much like a student would a personal bookshelf– you’ll occasionally take out the information you no longer wish to retain in favor of more useful and relevant ones. As a creature with longevity, an elf should be picky when it comes to memories. You believe your approach is in the same vein as Pulcinella disposing of “less valuable assets’' without hesitation. If there’s no point in having it, why carry the baggage? But there are at least two facts that you can easily recall about Alhaitham: it’s his voice and the color #093c0d.
In other words, he’s just a talking dark green slime in your eyes.
Which he considers a major step up, by the way. You went from ignoring him to recognizing his voice, to associating him with one color. That’s quite a development. A pathetically slow progression, but still a positive one.
“THERE YOU ARE, ALHAITHAM, YOU PRI–”
The man swiftly dodged his slap by crouching down. He honestly didn’t have to put in the effort when Kaveh’s attacks were sluggish.
“–CK! WHY’D YOU LABEL THE ALCOHOL AS WATER?!”
Tons of passersby stared at Kaveh as he flailed around, but they were quick to look away. It’s no longer a secret that he lives with the scribe. Everyone in Sumeru City knows about his tactless antics and none are deaf when it comes to his loud gripes about his housemate. Even so, you went up to him to soothe his worries and restore his reputation because not everyone understands he's not a bad person.
Alhaitham scoffed, glaring.
“I didn’t. The label said "Fire-Water.””
“WHAT DIFFERENCE DOES THAT MAKE?!”
“Fire-water? Oh.”
Your hand flew to your mouth as you connected the two dots.
That beverage from Snezhnaya is notorious for having a high alcohol content and is only known in Mondstadt as the drink Master Ragnvindr forbade exports of. As a quote-unquote "wine connoisseur," you were invited to one of his parties. Fortunately, you were able to warn Diluc of how potent it is firsthand– Kaveh? Not so much.
You snorted.
“Yeah, Kaveh, I hate to take Alhaitham’s side on this but this one is on you, friend.”
The blonde’s eyes widened, betrayed.
“HAH?!”
“Need I remind you that fire-water is an alcoholic beverage, Kaveh.” Alhaitham waved his hand, emphasizing his condescending tone. “Maybe if you listened to me instead of ranting about my work ethic, you would’ve known that I received it as a gift from a Fatui Harbinger.”
Your ears perked up. “From a Harbinger?”
Alhaitham smirked but it was gone as quickly as it came.
“Hmm. I’m certain that you know him, assistant (L/n). His name is Pulcinella,” the scribe said. “He left me a note. He said he wishes that I drink to my heart’s content as a thank-you gift for hiring his grandchild. I wasn’t aware you have a kind grandfather.”
You smiled back, crookedly.
No. No, your uncle-grandfather DEFINITELY wanted to see Alhaitham in pain. He didn’t even bother giving him a bottle– he gave him a fucking leftover pitcher.
Alhaitham took your arm. Unfortunately, he’s taller than you with muscle strength you can’t compete with. You squirmed but resistance was futile. Doesn’t mean you can’t bite his arm off–
“Assistant (L/n)–”
You gritted your teeth. “Don’t touch me, sir.”
Alhaitham paused, processing how much emphasis you put into pronouncing the word “sir.”
“–I’ll be taking you away now.” He looked down on your friend and scoffed. “Kaveh, do try your best to not be a burden to Mx. (L/n) again.”
Kaveh clutched his head, still in pain.
Sorry, Kaveh. That drink and beating headache were not meant for you in the slightest. You made a mental note to make it up to him, but not today. You have a lot on your plate right now.
“Idiot. They’re the one that invited me here!”
“True–”
“I quite frankly don’t care,” Alhaitham spat coldly.
“From now on, refrain from having conversations with my assistant. Unless you’re prepared to face the consequences.”
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“Do you remember the approximate damage multipliers an aggravate reaction causes?”
“Nope.”
“Tch. I just discussed this, I can’t believe you already forgot.”
“You think I forgot? Haha, hell no. I didn’t forget, I just wasn’t paying any attention.”
Alhaitham dragged you down a secluded area in the rainforests with a sword in hand. Quite frankly, you hoped he brought his weapon to kill you, but you’re well aware of what this is about.
This is a lesson straight out of a page of “Dendro Vision Qualifications 101: Normal Attack Patterns.” The Acting Grand Sage thinks that you should have at least enough fighting proficiency for you to start formally working for him. As for you? You think this whole charade is utterly meaningless.
Sometimes, you truly do wish you were born as a rock instead. Maybe then you would be able to perform the “gray-rock method” whenever Alhaitham starts his drivel about dendro visions. You bet you’d make a pretty good tombstone for your dead childhood friend if you were a rock. Being a rock is probably the nicest thing to be. You get to be something created from the Geo element– the element and vision you desired. And not dendro.
Anything but lame old dendro.
This is so stupid. You wanted a geo vision, damn it. What on earth did you do to make Rex Lapis spite you, and what kinda breakthrough did you accomplish to gain the Lesser Lord Kusanali’s favor instead?!
If only you got something that isn’t the same as Alhaitham’s vision. Maybe if you got an electro vision you’d be learning how to brandish a lance with the General Mahamatra instead. Unlike most people, you enjoy being in his prolonged company and dry jokes. You’ve exchanged letters with Cyno multiple times– but your friend’s on-the-spot puns are 10x funnier than the things he writes down. Of course, that’s only because his earnest delivery sells it.
“In this fighting stance, you can perform up to 4 consecutive attacks, dishing out dendro damage approximately every 2 seconds interval–”
You held up your Eye of Perception.
“Bold of you to assume I’ll use this vision.”
“–charge attacks on the other hand require a hefty amount of stami–”
You yawned, halting Alhaitham in the middle of his “lecture.”
There’s a reason why you chose an Eye of Perception, and that’s because, unlike most catalysts, it procures physical damage as well. With someone as petty as you, it’s only natural that you’d brandish a weapon that doesn’t rely too much on dendro reactions.
“Yeah, I’ll just hit the enemy with my catalyst. Like, aim and shoot, or maybe I’ll just go with blunt force. This eye of perception looks like it’s made of metal, it can probably dish out some physical damage–”
Alhaitham shifted forward. Your gentle yet insouciant voice forced him out of his momentum.
“(Y/n).”
“...Yes, sir?”
His gaze sharpened.
“Pay attention.”
You snorted. Was he trying to intimidate you?
You, an elf who lived longer than him? How arrogant. It was becoming clearer why Alhaitham never once had a girlfriend or boyfriend. Or maybe a genuine friend in general. His senior who happens to also be his housemate does not count.
“No thanks.” You laughed to yourself, barely containing your amusement. “I think I’m doing fine.”
“What do you expect will happen if you don’t listen to my instructions? Your unfailing indifference sickens me.” He sheathed his sword back. “Do I have to spell everything out? You’ll get injured in combat. You won’t be able to defend yourself from fungi, eremites, and other enemies on the prowl. All for what? Useless pride? Grow up. Accept that you got a dendro vision and be done with it.”
“Tch…” You know how you feel, but you do not have the strength to say it out loud.
What an impossible task. He’s telling you– the most stubborn person you know– to give up on your goals? Inconceivable. You bet he sees the mediocre majority as nothing more than defective pawns, and you’re well aware you belong in that lowly category.
To him, grief may as well be easy as breathing. For you, years had gone by and you could still hear their voice. The scribe knows nothing about tributes for the dead. 
Your old childhood friend beckons you back to the chasm. His voice comes once the dark rears in, reverbing his desperate pleas for a fitting grave. It’s a voice that twists around your chest like a knife. You can’t get their faces out of your memetic bookshelf, but it’s not as if you’re willing to dispose of them.
You didn’t want a dendro vision. 
You wanted a geo vision to construct mausoleums for your dead friends.
Alhaitham scowled.
“Fine. We’ll resume our lesson next week.”
He bumped into your shoulder as he walked by. For a split second, you’re reminded that your superior had longer eyelashes than you do. And it made the gesture more annoying.
Strange. 
Alhaitham wouldn’t normally let you off so easily…
Maybe he’s busy?
“If you’re so insistent on only utilizing physical attacks, be my guest. Next time, I will not back down a single step.” Alhaitham walked away with heavy feet, stamping the dirt with his heels.
The consequences of your actions began to sink in. You may have lived longer than Alhaitham, but needless to say, he had more experience in combat.
Admittedly, you may have done yourself a disservice by acting out… You huffed.
No, no way.
“What could possibly go wrong? He’s just a feeble scholar!”
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Unsurprisingly, Alhaitham was not, in fact, a feeble scholar.
Thankfully you have the Eye of Perception at your disposal because the moment he found you walking towards Devantaka Mountain the following week, the bastard went for your jugular.
“What the fuck, Alhaitham?!”
You fired a single shot, aimed higher this time knowing that he would attempt to evade. Much like his actions with Kaveh last time, Alhaitham was quick to dodge that projectile. His timing is impeccable as he activated his vision.
#ff0e0e starts blaring in your line of sight. You’ve always trusted these colors— your instincts.
You’re in danger.
“Tch!”
You almost didn’t recognize that it was him. If he wasn’t breathing heavily, you would've mistaken him for an assassin. Alhaitham never made any unnecessary movements. His slashes were not done with the intent of harming you, but shepherding you to an appropriate trap. Your knee scraped against the grass and minuscule rocks. Prioritizing distance over attacks was a wrong move– he’s faster than anticipated. You gasped sharply as the scribe pinned you against a tree trunk–
… His scent caught your attention.
“A cicin mage’s perfume…?” You mumbled, eyes wide.
That didn’t seem right. Their perfume usually doesn’t smell this unpleasant and metallic.
Your ears drooped down as you realized this Alhaitham did not attack because he’s a lunatic, no. That malodorous stench was akin to a grandmother’s bittersweet husk.
This Alhaitham was under the influence of aphrodisiacs, and it is not something you can fault him for.
“What– What on earth happened?”
He twisted your arm slightly, not enough that’ll make you scream but just rough for a tiny yelp–
and that’s how he boldly claimed your lips.
You froze in horror, letting him take advantage of your plight. Alhaitham pulled away, panting slightly.
“F-Fuck…”
Alhaitham moaned as he slipped his tongue back inside. You tried to stop him but you yelped the moment his hand groped your thigh. His breath fanned your flustered skin as he moved to slither his arms around your waist, closing the already small distance between you two.
You weakly pulled back. The rainforest had never felt this humid before.
Something is truly off about his scent.
“L-Let go!!!” You hissed and punched his chest, completely forgetting your catalyst in your panic. “What the hell is wrong with you?!?! Are you out of your fucking mind?!”
He didn’t listen despite your physical protests. Alhaitham disgustingly crooned down and sloppily dabbed wet kisses down your neck. His saliva dripped over his shoulder, coating you in hopes that it would leave his trace.
It felt wrong. You felt dirty– like you were kissing an actual #093c0d slime.
“P-Please…” He whispered, his voice dropping dangerously weak and vulnerable. “H-Help me, (Y/n)…”
Your face flushed as you wiped the saliva that connected you both from your lips.
You’ve never heard Alhaitham beg before.
Is this really him?
His fistful grip on your clothes grew taut as desperation colored his knuckles white. You had never seen Alhaitham lose his cool the way he does now, and the broken sight in his eyes made you uneasy and uncertain.
He looked pathetic.
“Haitham, your…” your hand supported his neck and he hungrily leaned in to feel your touch. “Your heartbeat is loud.”
“I know,” he whimpered.
You bit your lip. You could sense his pulse going faster.
This isn’t the first time you’ve been kissed– or first anything. You’ve had your fair share of “soulmates” and “flings”, but those happened decades ago. Before you were mastering engineering, you were a freelance artist who’d had many affairs with humans and elves alike out of the undiagnosed emptiness that was grief. Up until Faruzan made you start a new leaf, you indulged in numerous vices, including wine and one-night stands. She was the closest a human could hope to understand the loneliness an elf would have.
Both your appearance give the illusion of youth, but your bones are held together by flesh older than this man. She would undoubtedly be angry with you as soon as she learns that you enabled Alhaitham's small rendezvous.
“Alhaitham, I’m more than a decade years older than you–” you squirmed.
“But I want you,” he groaned.
Those words felt so different when he was the one who said them. Nearly sinister.
“I know,” you said, but your voice doesn’t match the confidence you were meant to exude. “But this isn’t you, this is your hormones doing the talking. Where did the cicin mage attack you?”
“Between Pardis Dhyai and Yashna Monument”
“Between WHAT?!” You gawked. “That’s miles away from here!”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does!!!”
You yanked his shirt. It’s thin, yet surprisingly durable. The strength of the fabric is not what made you unnerved, but his stare.
He gazed at you as if you were his lifeline— as if you were the only thing that allowed him to breathe. Alhaitham’s hot breaths were shallow, fanning your face as you took note of how red his face, neck, and ears were. You noticed how he struggled to gulp— struggled to keep his composure. His bedroom eyes had not once diverted their attention away from you.
“It doesn't matter how far I ran. You were the one I wanted to see. You were the face that came to mind after getting poisoned."
You pretended not to hear that.
“Alhaitham, we need to get you to Tighnari.”
“He can’t help me.”
“The forest watcher can most certainly help you more than me.”
“You don’t know that.”
You don't want to hear him talk anymore, to be honest. You're horrified by how weak and inaudible his voice sounded.
“Why did you come to Avidya Forest all the way from there? Why not head straight to the city?”
“So many questions…” He irritably spat. “Just stop talking and kis–”
“I refuse,” you glared. “Why were you heading towards Port Ormos? Did you think I was going to help you get over this mess out of the goodness of my heart?”
Did he forget how much you loathe him?
“No. No, of course not.”
He chuckled, full of self-loathing.
“I know you hate me, (Y/n). I would hate myself too.”
You raised an eyebrow. Of course, he’s self-aware— you just didn’t expect him to say that out loud.
Alhaitham continued, “but I’m not the one at fault here.”
Defeated, he rested his head on your shoulder. To avoid having you look at his expression, Alhaitham cupped your back, running fingers through your scalp so that you may only look forward. His body pressed against yours firmly. There’s no possible way for you not to be wholly aware of how warm he was and how fast his heart was beating. 
It was distracting to know how much the poison affected someone like Alhaitham, whom you thought was damn near untouchable.
Awkwardly, you returned the favor and played with his hair. Alhaitham gasped softly, making you shiver as you realized how sensitive you are to his breathing from this position.
“And who would that be?” You asked quietly. “If your pride won’t let you seek Tighnari’s aid then since you’re here you might as well tell me everything, starting from the very beginning.”
“T-That won’t be necessary.”
“If we want to rule out who your true assailant is, then yes it is,” you answered. “I think this is what you call the process of elimination.”
Suddenly, he pulled away from you with his arms stretched out. Alhaitham still kept you pinned on the tree, but there’s more space for you now to move and see his face. 
Ah, you’ve nearly forgotten again.
Alhaitham has green-orange eyes.
“No need.”
He clicked his tongue.
“It was Pulcinella. Your grandfather sent a cicin mage in an attempt to seduce and assassinate me.”
… Oh.
You should’ve guessed. You really should’ve guessed that he was behind all this.
Instinctively, you tried to cover your mouth from shock, but he quickly grabbed them and pressed them back to the tree behind you again. He tightened his hold once more, making you wince.
“I didn’t mind at first because your grandfather reminded me of my own grandmother,” Alhaitham gritted his teeth. “Pulcinella—”
He bit his bottom lip, his seafoam eyes looking unstable and royally pissed.
“He’s not after me because of my position as the Acting Grand Sage. H-He was merely looking after you. His expression was one I recognized. It's a grandfather's love. I may not show empathy as frequently as my housemate would like, but at least I am conscious of how important family is. I don’t want you to have to arrange your grandparent’s funeral like I did.”
You’re not unaware of who Alhaitham’s grandmother was. At one point, you had befriended her back when she was out on a mission to acquire 1,000 books. To think that you’ll meet her grandson for the first time in college and that you’ll end up in a situation like this… you’re sure she would’ve never condoned any of this. She wouldn’t appreciate that her grandson was trying to fuck the elf that helped her build her small library.
This is wrong. 
Everything about this is wrong. From the age gap to the work power distance– it’s vile– 
You want to vomit.
“So— s-so what did you do?”
“I didn’t want to kill your grandfather in retaliation.”
“Yes, you’ve established that. You don’t usually beat around the bush— go back to being the Alhaitham I know and just get straight to the point, damn it!”
“I ended up tracking all of his people in Sumeru down.”
He chuckled lowly.
Your heart started racing as well. 
If his heart was beating out of excitement, yours were out of a rational fear that you wouldn’t get out of this unscathed and mentally sound.
“It’s laughable how his lackeys were so incompetent. If they listened to my lectures at all, they would’ve known how to defend themselves.”
“What… What the hell are you talking about?” 
There was nowhere to run. You’re trapped unless Alhaitham lets go of both your wrists. Your dilated eyes surveyed the woodland, but you weren't confident that, should the occasion arise, your shaky knees could put some distance between you and the scribe.
“Didn’t you notice? They were stalking us from the moment I was teaching you how to use your vision last week, and likely even before that.”
His face drew near and you strained your neck to hopefully maintain at least a hair of distance between both of your lips.
Alhaitham closed his eyes.
“Did you honestly think I’d postpone our practice due to your mild complaining? Don’t you understand how excruciating it is to be away from you for a week?”
He pressed his forehead against yours.
“But I had to do it. For us.”
“Where… Where were you when you were gone? What did you do to them?”
You didn’t want to ask.
You already know the answer. 
“When will you start thinking before you speak?”
With fears renewed, your body felt small underneath his gaze. He’s not even looking at you— his piercing green eyes weren’t even looking directly at your soul. You turned away and gazed at his left shoulder— shrieking.
Never in your 100+ years of life did you feel so stupid. Only now did you realize that it wasn’t just a cicin mage’s perfume you smelled earlier.
There was blood all over his coat.
“Stop screaming, (Y/n). I’ve finished the job and it’s high time you reward me, wouldn’t you agree?”
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fancyfeathers · 3 months
Text
Yandere Kaveh/Alhaitham & Yandere Cyno/Tighnari (Normalized AU)
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Imagine you and your best friend came to Sumeru to become scholars. You two have worked so hard to get here and you finally have made it, you two became friends with the other scholars there. You lived together in a small house in the city, leaving every so often for trips to visit ruins or other sites and meetings, and of course these do not go unnoticed
During one of your trip to study ancient architecture you meet an architect, Kaveh. He became friends with you quickly and after that trip you two went out on friend dates, lunches to discuss your latest projects, and afterward he would go home and talk the ear off of his roommate, Alhaitham. Alhaitham would get so annoyed at some point about hearing Kaveh go on and on about you. Then one day he meets you, you’re returning blueprints Kaveh left at your home when he visited and finally Alhaitham understood what Kaveh saw in you, sensible, kind, funny…
Meanwhile your friend went off to study Sumeru’s wildlife to compare it to your homeland’s nature. But while she was taking a photo with the camera from Fontaine she got, her foot slips on the branch she was standing on and the last thing she remembers is falling from the tall tree branch. She wakes up with someone bandaging her wounds from the fall. Cyno had found her unconscious on the forest floor when he was tracking down a rogue scholar so he brought her to the nearest person who could tend to her wounds, Tighnari. She had broken quite a few bones in the fall, so she wouldn’t be going anywhere for the time being. Tighnari would nurse her back to health and Cyno would visit her as she recovered but they never told her roommate and when she writes a letter later on and gives it to Cyno give to her friend he never actually told her he would deliver it…
After weeks of your friend going missing and not having her half of the rent you don’t know what to do, that’s when Kaveh comes to your rescue, you can stay with him and Alhaitham since your roommate shows no sign of returning. You had been avoiding them recently since uncomfortable topics and behavior have come up with them, being rude to your friends, Kaveh’s hugs being to tight and lasting to long, Alhaitham not letting you go off on research trips on your own saying that you could get hurt. But now you aren’t in a position to refuse so you accept and move in, but when the lock clicks in place after Kaveh closes the door is when you sealed your fate.
Meanwhile your friend had recovered and was ready to go back to the city, but when she arrived she saw your shared house abandoned, all your belongings thrown to the curb by your landlord with them saying you left weeks ago and no one has seen you since. Her heart breaks as she tries to gather the broken scraps of her belongings, tears streaming down her face. She has no where else to go, but hey Cyno and Tighnari are here to listen, and keep her safe, keeping her safe in a forest she doesn’t know how to navigate out of. She safe, loved, and the perfect darling, just like you to the sweet Kaveh and the strict Alhaitham
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moonsaver · 3 months
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Sumeru roses, House of Daena, Sticky notes.
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Being an asisstant for the scribe isn't so bad. Just ignore the persistent overtimes, the scent of your perfume everywhere, and the new ink bottles that keep running out on his desk. You didn't anticipate red being his favorite ink to work with.
A/n: more than 2.5k words. I didnt bother counting. I hsed google translate for arabic whoops sorry not sorry <3 also its been a while since i wrote.
Warnings/tags: reader is g/n, yandere Alhaitham, Alhaitham x reader, stalking, paranoia, obsessive themes, very very subtle mentions of blood (if you squint), kind of drawn out? Horrible arabic google translate quote. Probably OOC but you can ignore that
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You admit, being an asisstant isn't so bad.
Of course, at first when you broke the announcement to your parents you wanted to further your studies at the Akademiya, your parents werent approving. They wanted you to get a cushy job and earn as soon as possible; you don't blame them. Having that life sounds peaceful, however, you think delaying it a bit won't hurt. You haven't had the proper chance to really scour the library at your own leisure, at least, not as a student.
So, while job-hunting, (which was wonderfully disrupted by the huge Archon-Overthrow-play-god plan for a good few weeks,) you got an offer as the Asisstant of the Grand Sage; which was suspicious from how good of a title it was. The Akademiya was desperate to get back on it's feet, and who were you to deny the offer?
Of course, it didn't quite occur to you until the first day of your job you'd be working alongside Alhaitham, the scribe of the Akademiya (and perhaps his infamous title as the one who curated a plan to foil Azar's shenanigans).
Which was fine. He was generally alright,if not great to work with. Straightforward, clear, brief, analytical and most of all – he wasn't pushy. Which was a relief, of course. You managed to make small talk from time to time (if you could really call it that,) and came to a consensus with him on many things, mostly that both of you were not pleased with overtime. The moment the clock hit 5:00 PM, both of you were out of your offices and posts. You were mutually respectful, and generally tolerated each other well.
Of course, things at your job got shaken up when your schedule was thrown off balance. Your favorite drink always ran out, your mornings were crowded and somehow you started showing up later than usual, which meant you went home later aswell (much to your dismay).
Another strange series of events started taking place, if you could even call it that. You swear you haven't been watering the plants in front of your home, and the soil is dry enough, so how are they so.. vibrant? And recently, you swear one of the plants is growing a little too much, basically covering one of the windows, threatening to break it. Sticky notes scattered around the front of your house which you originally thought of as littering from those raucous kids your neighbours can't keep in control – you only realised they were for you when you caught a glimpse of your name on it, and you can only agree with the suspicious look on your friends’ faces when you show them the notes – bright Canary yellow and the striking red colour across the notes (although, you've only shown them the more milder ones. You can't imagine the panic you'll be forced to acknowledge if they see some of the other.. strange ones.)
And you suppose your paranoia has caught up to you. Your sleep-deprived mind swears that new red coloured bottle of ink on Alhaitham's desk wasn't there. You swear he never used that bright Canary Yellow colour of post-its. Did he really like that drink he always seemed to get for both of you? It conveniently ran out when you wanted it, and even more so, he conveniently just brought an extra since it was on discount? Of course it all just seems like a coincidence. You're a fool to even think otherwise.
And well, you're fine. Your life has always been a long series of fine, even with the occasional weird mishaps. That's how it's always been, and you don't intend to change it; rather, you really do find change almost repulsive (save for the panic you felt deep down in your stomach at all the things you couldn't control). And that “fine” comes to a halt when you find your door absolutely mauled with sticky notes. There's a bouquet of Sumeru Roses at the bottom, as if to try and apologise sheepishly for the terrifying collage on your door. The terrifying numbness in your fingers, face, your brows furrowed as you can't decide just how to react, the elevated heartbeat – you swear you can feel the blood threaten to burst through your chest. 
You opted to stay with a friend that night. You don't know what you were expecting when you came back in the morning, and all of those notes were gone, except a singular one in the middle, “الهوس والحب مترادفان، لكنهما لا يقارنان بارتباط روحي بروحك” (which you had to reread almost 30 times with your broken arabic, checked with someone from the Haravatat Darshan, to really confirm – obsession and love are synonyms, but they are nothing compared to the connection of my soul to yours – is what it said, and it's echoed in your head for weeks). You can't remember the last time you wore your rose perfume after that.
Scouring in the House Of Daena didn't seem to alleviate your troubles that well, either. The books you read one day, and opted to continue the next – vanished. Someone else always had the upper hand. And when they returned, they were scribbled and annotated with many pockets of information. Sometimes they overshadow the information on the page itself. And on the rare occasion you put your head on the books as a makeshift pillow for a power nap, you jolted up from just a sniff. Sumeru roses hit your nose.
And of course, when you find notes with all different handwritings on your desk in the office, you think someone's playing a cruel prank on you. But your office was locked. No one saw anyone enter your office. You did your usual check up before you locked it last night, and assorted everything in place. None of these notes were here. And of course, your only clue is the fact they're all Canary Yellow post-its, and that striking scarlet red ink on it. Hasn't the bottle on Alhaitham's desk been running out? He mentioned it off-handedly. You remember saying blue ink was cheaper. He didn't respond.
overtime was disdainful, for the lack of a better word. However, that implies only to the masses – it is no problem for him to come up with better synonyms to describe the situation at hand. “Distasteful”, “loathsome”, “detestable”, and so on. However, complaining will not solve the stacks of files on his desk that he wishes to do away with as soon as possible.
If anything pleases him more than his usual combination of abstruse books, isolation from the general public, and extreme individuality, it is that as the Grand Sage's assistant – you are expected to stay back for the extended hours as much as he is, if not more. For once, working overtime (or being forced to) has brought him progress. Will a few more hours of scribbling away and reviewing files change anything huge? He will return to his post again tomorrow as he has today, and the work will continue. Although, this time, it is you who stays working overtime. So for once, if it manages to quiet down the poking and prodding of other nosy scholars, reprimanding him for never working even a minute after the allocated time, he does so for the exchange of working with you.
And he doesn't intend to burden you, but he knows the desperation you work with, trying your best to cram in any minute, second into trying to get ahold of those books at the House Of Daena. So, if at least to make you stay for longer, he assigns you the more dragged out, tedious work. And to make it better – you just got locked out of your office. He has an extra pair, which he diligently uses for his own interest. As for you; perhaps being so frantic and scrambling to gather all books you might have read the day before may have caused you to drop your keys somewhere along the way. Would he know? Of course – he's diligently collected and added it to his inventory. Would he tell you? It would be like stepping on his own tail. The lack of certainty in a schedule makes for more freedom – he thinks. It's for your own good; he almost says. And to have you work in the same proximity as him? It's a bonus. 
Many consider him to be talented and extraordinarily intelligent, so just take his advice as literally as you can. Or maybe he just needs to tell you directly while making small talk between you two more frequent. To his dismay (and your absolute horror), the sticky notes seem to be working counterproductively. Perhaps he should just show up at your house with a bouquet of Sumeru roses and a small journal filled with his advice? He jests, it's only an entertaining idea. The bewildered look on your face makes him adore you – even if only imaginative.
The lift stops at the top floor. He sees your figure standing beside his desk, an expanse of books behind you. The sharp yellow lights contrast your figure to the dim blue light sphere in the middle. He feels the corners of his mouth perk up into a smile,and stops himself.
Another overtime shift for the both of you.
Overtime was not easy. You wouldn't have minded it – the job pays you well, and its quite comfortably tucked into the Akademiya, where no one bothers you, and you can easily access the House of Daena. However, the stress and paranoia has absolutely drained you. 
You've visited the matra recently. Frantically scraping together whatever evidence you can, everytime your “admirer” decided to gift you something new, leaving almost no time in your schedule. Daily visits to the library turned into constant visits to the matra, detailing your issues. You would have opted to stay silent, brushing it off as someone who was.. weirdly shy. But shy people don't stalk you, shy people don't leave obsessive notes for you, shy people don't visit your house at unholy hours of the night. And who knows what else this stalker of yours has been up to recently?
Revenge bedtime procrastination turned into sleepless nights, flinching at every sound, hiding under the covers until there was no oxygen and your entire face was covered in sweat. Workload seemed to increase, from how often you kept messing up, many things clouding your mind. Alhaitham's prickly eyes took notice, and he suggested drinking another beverage aside from coffee in the morning, and offered to get you something else – which you generously refused and turned down. (the last thing you would want to be is in someone else's debt at this time. Even if it's just a drink, who knows what else it could add up to in the future?)
So, here you were; irritated, on edge and in the dimly lit office which was viciously devoid of any natural light. You wonder why someone would want such a stuffy office, with books probably growing mold inside. Sure, it's spacious, but it's utter lack of life in it repulses you. It has the comfort level of a hospital waiting room, and it's just enough to add onto the little things that bother you, on top of everything else.
If that wasn't any better – Alhaitham seemed particularly chatty this evening. Perhaps his parasitic roommate (whom he has lovingly mentioned, multiple times,) has been ignoring him as of late? Maybe a commission in the desert, or a commission that requires a huge amount of unnecessary labour? And the (Acting) Grand Scribe has mentioned several times how the blonde architect works himself almost half to death just to get a smile out of his customers. You painstakingly understand him in silence, and don't comment on it.
The rest of the night continues – the benignity of it isn't lost on you. Occasionally perking up from your own scribbling upon Alhaitham's call, searching for a specific book on the vast (dusty, if you may add) shelves, and commenting on a few meeting topics and research projects he grazes, assigning you a few. He doesn't miss the comical dragging of your feet as you walk back over to your desk, befuddled with more work. He wants to tease you, he wants you to ask him for help, for an extra bottle of ink, for an extra post it note, whatever way in which you ask for his help.
He theorises you don't remember much of your and his student days.
“shit, I forgot them.”
You searched the familiar pockets and zips of your bag, scrunched eyebrows in frustration.
“Seriously? I'm not lending you any of mine~”
Your friend laughed. You sigh.
“I let you hog all my lunch and this is what I get as a thank you?”
“Too bad. You don't like the blue coloured ones anyway.”
“I'm desperate for a sticky note. Does it look like I'm in a state to be picky?”
Your friend laughs again, and throws their little compact stack of post-its on your book.
“Fine. But you've already annotated so much, what are you gonna write about?”
“Hmm? Wouldn't you like to know?”
You playfully ignore them, as they chitter behind you; carefully sticking it into your textbook and scribbling down the information before you forget. You sigh and look up. You make eye contact.
Right. It's him.
The grey-haired Haravatat boy that rarely showed up. Everyone knew him for his quiet attitude, and his tendency to make your professor's blood boil due to his absence in every lecture. Your friends had a few inside jokes about him. You would dare say this is your first encounter, or really the only one, with him. A stoic look and a judgmental one at the same time, behind curiously multicoloured eyes. 
Nearing the end of the semester – usually the smart ones would avoid the house of Daena, as it would overflow with study groups of caffeine-run seniors and freshman alike. Some of the other clever ones chose spots that weren't easy to find in the first place, and some chose to simply come early.
The thing is, you didn't come early. You were here from midnight. The librarian and all the security checks probably missed you, since you were neatly tucked away into the corner, taking a well-needed nap on one of your reference materials. You only woke up when one of your friends, and that boy poked and prodded you. Your friend laughed until they were out of breath when you looked up – drool slipping down past your chin, eyes swollen from the lack of sleep (and the incessant crying of an academic student), handwriting illegible from just how drowsy you were. The boy only stood quietly, probably judging your.. mannerisms. You weren't sure how, or why, he sat down at the same table as you and your friend. 
—-
Every once in a while - Alhaitham does use the sticky notes.
He didn't buy them. He wanted to borrow them for a short second, but in your hurry, you gave him the compact stack and left, never looking back. After that, you never got them back. Neither of you had the time, and your fate simply intertwined for a brief moment. Things like these happen.
But you keep appearing in the crowd.
He sees you in a flurry of students, or alone at a desolate desk. On a high-up ladder reaching an impossibly reachable book, crouching down to pick up the several you dropped in the process. Passing by the dull lecture halls as he slipped into the library, following the reference materials his father recommended, picked out neatly from private journals and books. The yellow sticky notes never served him much purpose after a single use. He debated simply keeping them on your desk the next time he saw you, but never quite worked up the courage. He swore the sumeru rose scent gave him a headache.
So, when he heard you were continuing your studies at the Akademiya, he was pleased. Working as a Scribe was a simple job, and his chances of seeing you just increased. And he may have been too ambitious, but it worked greatly in his favour – as he opened up another Assistant role for you. 
He hums, content with his decision to keep the sticky notes. Now - how would he utilise them? He wonders if you remember that friend's handwriting. Simple notes turned into obsessive confessions.
Once in a while turned into almost everyday, the more he observed you.
His obsession alone could become the subject of his own studies – but for now you are his sole interest.
And the next overtime, his first after returning to his post as the Scribe – he decides to finally close the chapter.
Has your perfume always been this sweet? That headache's been catching up to you. All that worrying and panic.. when was the last time you slept?
He opens the door to his office. You stand under the warm light, horrified. Piles of sticky notes crowd your feet. The wall barely peeks through behind you from the sticky notes. He closes the door, and a flurry of them fall from the movement. Both of you stare at each other.
“Alhaitham?”
You remember looking at the collection of sticky notes you'd received over a period of time. Is the red ink turning brown? You swore the color changed. Is it supposed to smell? You don't think you want to know.
“Congratulations. You've made it this far. Ive been waiting to talk to you in private."
Your arms go limp, dropping the stack of files onto the floor. The clock ticks silently. You should have gone home. Your bad habit of staying past closing time and evading the security seemed to have not worked in your favour this time.
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ddarker-dreams · 1 year
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Sore Loser.
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Yan Alhaitham x Reader.
Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, manipulation and unbalanced power dynamics.  Word count: 1.1k.
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“In case you somehow missed it while storming in here, I want to inform you that my work hours are posted outside my office. You should note that I’m not currently on the clock and am under no obligation to hold an audience with you.” 
You knew this would be no simple task. That’s why you’ve spent days — perhaps weeks, if you’re being totally honest — mentally preparing for this confrontation. Countless hours have been spent running mental simulations of this imperative moment. Still, despite your best efforts, you never achieved a breakthrough that’d navigate you through the obstacles lying ahead. Hence why you’ve been delaying this tête-à-tête no matter how much you recognize its needs to be resolved, and soon. 
Some might call it procrastination, or delaying the inevitable, but not you. You think of it as self-preservation. What small amount you have left to cling to, anyway. Today, that thin, already fraying self-preservation was pulled taut enough to snap. 
Which leads you here. The last place you want to be, paired with the very last person you want to see. 
Your gut tells you the feeling is far from mutual. Alhaitham’s expression might be schooled, betraying nothing that floats around in that sinister mind of his, but you’re certain he’s deriving some satisfaction from your disheveled appearance. It could be the nearly imperceptible quirk of his lips or how he went to such lengths to keep his words slow, as if savoring your attention. 
“Oh, trust me, I saw your little plaque.” 
“It comes as a relief to know you’re literate.” 
The creature seated before you cannot be a human being. There’s no way. You’ve dealt with some irritating men throughout your academic tenure — sometimes you wonder if the trait is an unspoken prerequisite to being accepted in higher education — yet none come close to this. The nonplussed air, that monotonous voice that is about as passionate as one reciting instructions from a manual. Oh, how it stokes a seething rage inside you that burns red hot. 
You slam your hands on his desk hard enough to jostle the various writing instruments and memorabilia. This little outburst earns a raised eyebrow, yet nothing else. It’s clear that the floor is yours. You’ll need to make every second count. 
“I know what you’ve been doing,” you whisper. Still nothing. No guilty body language that’d give himself away, his intense eye contact doesn’t even falter. Yours almost does. “Admittedly, I don’t know the specifics. I just think it’s interesting that ever since we broke things off, I’ve been receiving the cold shoulder from the academic world. An area you hold immense sway over.” 
He straightens out a pen that went askew from your previous action. “A quick correction: you used the incorrect pronoun.” 
“... Huh?” 
“You said ‘ever since we broke things off’ when the correct phrasing would be ‘ever since I broke things off.’ That was entirely your decision. I had no part in it.” 
It takes a few seconds for his words to register. What was once a steady yet contained flame ignites into a wildfire, seeking to smolder everything nearby into ashes. You can’t believe you saw something in him once. That you granted him a special residence in your heart, the door left unlocked so he wouldn’t need a key. In the wake of his forceful eviction, you’ve boarded up the windows and chained every potential entryway shut. There’s no fully surveying the damage left behind that you’ve been forced to clean up. 
Piece by piece, shard by shard. You knew picking up the jagged glass would hurt — you never could’ve fathomed how much it’d make you bleed. 
Unfortunately, he isn’t finished. While you mentally scramble to recollect your thoughts, he swoops in, talons sharp and ready to pierce your flesh. 
“Additionally, I don’t see why we’re having this conversation if, as you said yourself, you have no evidence to back your claims. This alleged abuse of power would be better discussed with the matra. I’d be cooperative with any investigation they open. In fact, why don’t we go visit them together—” 
“Stop it,” you cut him off, and surprisingly, he listens. “Is this— is this your way of tormenting me? Getting revenge? Does destroying what I’ve spent my entire life building satisfy your ego?” 
Alhaitham places his elbows on the desk, rests his chin on steepled fingers, and leans forward. You know that look. You were once intimately familiar with it. This is the posture he adopts when he’s studying. Analyzing every variable presented to him and unearthing what remains hidden. There is no secrecy beneath his scrutinizing gaze. Where some see a stubborn wall, he views a vast ocean of information, waiting to be absorbed by those who know how to find it. 
“You haven’t been sleeping well,” he notes. His voice is quieter. Almost tender, if such a word exists in his lexicon. You’re convinced it doesn’t. “Your foundation hides the worst of the eyebags, but I’m familiar with your normal complexion. The slightest change in pigmentation is enough to give you away.” 
You hug your arms close to your chest. “Who do you think is to blame for that?” 
“You wouldn’t like my answer.” 
His hand reaches for your wrist. You tense, your breath catching in your throat, yet you allow him to unfurl your protective stance. His skin is familiar. Warm, calloused from years of dutifully scribbling onto documents. You feel his eyes boring at and through you. Cataloging your every reaction, retrieving past memories to best advance his goals. 
He’s never quite as detached as you wished he would be. 
There’s an underlying fondness when he speaks your name, gentle as a soft breeze, and almost as indiscernible. 
“You must be at your wit’s end if you’re coming to me unprepared like this,” he sighs. The spell is broken, the hypnotist’s wristwatch frozen midair. You go to jerk your hand back, only for him to tighten his grip, not enough to hurt, but enough to effectively communicate his point. 
“I’ve always been partial to you, so I suppose a little overtime wouldn’t hurt just this once. I believe I have a solution for the predicament you’ve found yourself in. We could discuss it, if you’d like. How about over dinner? It’ll be my treat.” 
You did come here searching for a solution — though this is the last one you’d ever want. 
“... How much of this did you plan?” 
“I’m unsure what you mean,” his tongue might wax deceit, but his lips offer a glimmer of truth. They curl into a content smile. “I take it that’s a yes. Our usual spot, then?” 
It’s occurs to you that you were worried about the wrong thing all along. 
There was no point in fortifying your defenses after you ejected him from your heart; he never intended to undergo a forceful re-entry. 
No, according to his design, you’d be the one undoing each lock to meet him outside. 
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