lumiellle

[lumiellle]

some of tin's fav haikavetham fics (fic rec list!)🍓🍓

hello all i've always wanted to make a fic rec list and i feel like i've collected enough hkvh fics to make one now LOL most definitely i am forgetting to include a lot but here are a few of my faves!

notes:

check tags before reading👍

most if not all are sfw bc that is my vibe

sorted from least recent -> most recent

was gonna add little comments to each but i'm now realizing that would take up a huge amt of space so. just know that all of these changed the trajectory of my life. thank u fic authors for all u do🫶

then who? by heartslogos (T, 27k)

“Let me,” Kaveh would say with his eyes, his head, his hands. Let him what? Let him in, let him speak, let him stay, let him touch and see and listen — All of the above. Has it not always been so, the two of them like this, Kaveh and Al-Haitham? Kaveh: not quite asking, not quite taking. Al-Haitham: not quite answering, not quite offering. - Al-Haitham has been confined to bed-rest for a month. Kaveh assists. Al-Haitham recovers, they both do.

Asked and Answered by heartslogos (T, 55k)

It begins in the House of Daena, or at least, Kaveh thinks that that’s where it should begin. If one were to trace the flow of events backwards, it would lead to this moment. If Kaveh were Al-Haitham, he would insist on going further back. Further. Further. Further. All the way back, to the literal beginning of all of time and creation, possibly. But Kaveh’s brain only has enough room for so many creations at any given moment, and the works of others — while inspiring — historically don’t get students passing grades. Or even grades at all. When thinking about one’s relationship with their soulmate, it seems natural to think to a first meeting. A first introduction. Well. This can be said for any relationship. It all begins with that first brush — a name, given; a silhouette, glanced; a voice, heard.

the truest forms of love by heartslogos (T, 29k)

“Nahida said that the moment you touch the seeds is the moment you must stop speaking,” the Traveler says to him, standing between Al-Haitham and the door of the simple, small hut that is to become his and Kaveh’s for the foreseeable future. “Is there anything else you want to say?” The beak of the swan is foreign, cool and strange. Al-Haitham struggles not to flinch away from it as it slides along the side of his jaw, his cheek — imploring and fretful. One last and ineffective plea. Al-Haitham feels the warm weight of solid muscle around his neck, his shoulders — the fidget of wings, the beat of a heart. Al-Haitham’s fingers sink into soft feathers and the bones and muscles of a bird shift against his hands as he holds Kaveh close. What is there to say? Why bother to say something to someone who cannot say anything back? “Stand aside,” Al-Haitham says, slowly lowering Kaveh to the ground. “The sooner I begin, the sooner it ends.” - A story loosely based on the fairy tale of "The Six Swans".

house of cards by luminvies (T, 21k)

There is a scrap of parchment he'd created and abandoned all the way back when the two had been attending the Akademiya together. Sometime between then and the first month he has to move in with Al-Haitham, the list gets crossed out, scribbled over, crumpled up, carefully unfolded again, and revised. The working title for his tireless troubles: Ten Reasons You Cannot, Under Any Circumstances, Fall In Love With Al-Haitham.

…And how Kaveh falls anyway.

through the grapevine by katarasvevo (G, 3.8k)

Theories are passed around in the form of whispers: Professor Alhaitham probably said something that angered Professor Kaveh. Professor Kaveh, unable to let the insult slide, decided to take revenge by interrupting his precious class time. A prediction goes around that in less than ten seconds, Professor Alhaitham will proceed to offend Professor Kaveh even more with a tactless comment, which will lead to Professor Kaveh and Professor Alhaitham murdering each other. The whole class will walk out today without needing to write the test, having been traumatized by the tragic demise of the two professors. It is not a very pleasant line of thought, but it is sadly the only logical outcome.

In which everyone is convinced Professor Alhaitham and Professor Kaveh are sworn enemies, unaware that their relationship isn’t at all what it seems.

the kübler-ross model on romance by luminvies (T, 10.8k)

Kaveh smiles up at the stranger. "Sorry, he's right! I am taken. By him. But he doesn't know it yet." What. "Wait, what did you mean by that?" Al-Haitham asks faintly. "Oh, that?" Kaveh scoffs. "You're a little dense. Obviously, I meant exactly what I said. I wouldn't want to be kept by anybody but you." "But we are—" Al-Haitham trips over his words, trailing behind Kaveh as he walks purposefully through the city. "We aren't. Together. Neither of us has confirmed anything of the sort." Kaveh gives him a derisory look. "And what, we don't act like it? Some things don't have to be put into words to be understood. Ah, I forgot. Haravatat. You probably wouldn't accept anything else any other way." "It is not logical to make assumptions without empirical evidence." "You scholarly types," Kaveh mutters. "Always so particular."

So. Al-Haitham is in love with Kaveh. This has got to be somebody's fault.

Cue the five stages of grief.

The Fall by heartslogos (M, 131k)

In the third generation of Lord Sangemah Bays when all is but a dream, Lord Kusanali, from their divine seat in the Sanctuary of Surasthana stirs and reaches their hands to the sky. They arrange their fingers to capture a square of sky, humming and singing to themselves as they put the patch of star and moon and cloud through the divine calculus before they translate it into the tongues of men to be made knowable, and perhaps even understandable — and with great fortune, actionable. “Summon the court,” Lord Kusanali says, “The Third Face of God has spoken. Hear the Word through me and make your peace. For the God Kings only ever speak thrice on any given subject.” The court of Sumeru crowds the Sanctuary of Surasthana. “That which waits in the Palace of Alcazarzaray can only be absolved through a union of souls and an exchange of hearts, a lifelong journey that ends only in death.” Lord Kusanali translates. And then, beatific, “What you need is a wedding.”

set alight by celestialfics (T, 2.3k)

Since he was young, Alhaitham has followed a self-imposed, unspoken rule not to touch other people unless strictly necessary. Over the years, there have been two exceptions. One was his grandmother, whose side he would cling to as she read him books on the living room couch. She would pet his hair, and he’d lean into the touch, not unlike a kitten blissfully being groomed by its mother. The other exception was an Akademiya upperclassman named Kaveh.

transparent night by kurigohan_to_kamehameha (G, 9.4k)

“Sir, kindly do not obstruct us,” says the matra sharply. “We are in the midst of carrying out an arrest.” “An arrest?” repeats Kaveh, incredulously. “You’re arresting him? You’re arresting him? Why, what in Teyvat has he done?” The Archon Rescue Operation is going as smoothly as it possibly can — that is, until Kaveh returns prematurely from his desert trip, and runs into Alhaitham at the absolute worst possible moment. Of course he would.

this is what happens in the absence of small-talk by pencanze (T, 17k)

Haitham and Kaveh, whose travels are leading them in opposite directions, meet as strangers in a caravanserai—a travelers’ guest house. Because even opposite directions have a point of intersection or overlap, don’t they? Some might even call that point a headfirst collision. And another thing about opposite directions: they still run in parallel, even long after they’ve crossed.

trishna by kurigohan_to_kamehameha (T, 8.2k)

Down the seventh-floor passage in Vahumana, past the statue of the sage Zolfikar, and behind the third door from the left; inside a small, abandoned seminar room in the Sumeru Akademiya is a mirror cursed to show the viewer their heart’s deepest desire. Kaveh’s father smiles at him, slowly, so Kaveh can see it happen; the corners of his mouth quirk upwards and his eyes twinkle. He’s moving, alive. Kaveh hasn’t seen his father smile – not the expression itself, preserved in an old Kamera shot he kept in his sketchbook, but the very action of smiling – in almost ten years. An Alhaitham/Kaveh X Mirror of Erised AU

if they ask my gain from this world’s harvest by patchy (T, 16k)

In the silence that follows, Alhaitham seems to interpret the end of the conversation. He takes a step back into his bedroom and starts to shut the door. “I’ll pay you tomorrow,” Kaveh forces out, his voice cracking embarrassingly. The door pauses in its trajectory. Kaveh takes a deep breath. “But this is the last time,” he continues in a lower voice. “I’ll be out of your space by the end of the month.” Alhaitham pushes open the door.

The House, The Home, You and Me by sonotfine (G, 11.9k)

Alhaitham's books-hoarding situation continued to grow out of control. Kaveh magnanimously decided to offer to build a new house for him, with enough space for his ego and the books too. This was fine by Alhaitham. And, of course, he wanted it to be a house for two. -- On moving out of the old, moving on to the new, and moving forward together.

what it means to point true by luminvies (T, 9.8k)

It is biologically impossible for a man to replicate technological functions. As much as Kaveh (and colleagues) like calling Al-Haitham an index of niche and generally insignificant information on legs, he will never quite live up to the title. Here's a novel one: people must have taken to thinking of him as a human compass because they always seem to come to him when they're looking for Kaveh.

is that what I look like? by kurigohan_to_kamehameha (T, 3,8k)

Alhaitham grows a beard. Why? Who knows.

Three or Four (Or Possibly Five) Easy Steps to Living Harmoniously With Your Roommate by Bgtea (T, 28.7k)

The truth of the matter is, Kaveh has no idea how to read Alhaitham. He prides himself on being an expert at understanding people, his empathetic heart lending him the capacity to relate deeply with those around him (oftentimes to his detriment). But with Alhaitham, there is nothing for him to read; no clues from his cool expression for him to grasp. The man appears stoic all the time even during their petty bickering. Honestly, when was the last time Kaveh has seen the man do anything except smirk or frown? Does Alhaitham feel happiness? Has he ever seen the man laugh? Kaveh's mind is drawing a blank on the latter and it...bothers him deeply. -- Kaveh devises a plan to get Alhaitham to smile by being aggressively nice to the man (and also maybe if he makes Alhaitham happy, he can score a discount on his rent or something). Alhaitham thinks Kaveh ate some mind-altering mushrooms and is, understandably, confused and mildly afraid.

in weal and in woe by kurigohan_to_kamehameha (G, 26.7k)

“Oh, right – Alhaitham.” Kaveh claps a hand to his forehead. “Cyno, if you see him at the Akademiya tomorrow, don’t mention this to him, would you? I haven’t told him yet.”

“Told him?” Cyno asks slowly, a wary glint in his eye. “What exactly haven’t you told him?” “That I’m getting married,” Kaveh grimaces. “I wanted to tell him myself – I suppose I do want him at the wedding after all, you know – but I didn’t get a chance yet. You know what it’s like, trying to have a conversation with him.” It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. Kaveh is a single man. That's about it, really. or: the one in which Kaveh gets married, but not to whom you think.

the hypothetical shore by heartslogos (T, 10k)

When Al-Haitham was still a student in the Akademiya he wore his hair long. As long as Kaveh’s is now, perhaps a little longer than that, even. But unlike Kaveh's, Al-Haitham’s hair was just as quiet as he was, just as cool — like a stream of silver water, fresh from the mountain pass. To this day Kaveh remembers the exact moment he thought he might be falling in love with Al-Haitham and that, perhaps, it might not be such a terrible thing.

de insomniis by liyuen (M, 32k)

Kaveh and Alhaitham live together. Nothing ever happens. Nothing ever hurts. But sometimes, when Kaveh watches Nahida idly finish her homework, he gets the feeling that he’s forgetting something important.

Kaveh must have fallen asleep at his desk again, the morning light hitting his eyes like a slap. He blinked at the soft green blanket over his shoulders. When he stumbled into the hall, Alhaitham was sitting in the living quarters with his back to him, soundproof earpieces alit. He had a stupid moment where he wanted to call out to Alhaitham. What would he even say? ‘I’m having some trouble.’ ‘Is the blanket yours?’ ‘You were right, I’m in over my head.’ ‘Can you hear me out?’ ‘Help me. Please, help me.’ Stupid. He yawned and went to stumble his way to the kitchen. From his periphery, he thought he saw Alhaitham turn towards him with a look like he wanted to say something. But that, too, surely was just a very nice dream.

The Importance of Interruption by theSealby (T, 8.6k)

Years. It has been years, yet it could’ve been yesterday they were sitting side by side, thigh to thigh, eye to eye, filled with a contentment that their future selves have lost. Maybe it would be enough to have that again. Maybe correctness has no place here—has never been the ultimate goal between them—and Alhaitham finds himself asking a very different question than intended. “How would you like to come home?” ✥ Alhaitham loathes interruptions. (All except one).

To Dream in Shades of Green by Intensely_Reading (T, 55k)

“There are three suitors who you can romance in this game. You must complete all your requirements with one of them." “Who are the three potential suitors?” Kaveh asks warily. “Your three suitors are Tighnari, the blunt Palace Chamberlain; Cyno, the standoffish Captain of the Royal Guard; and Al-Haitham, the acerbic Duke of Vultur Volans.” There's a new invention from the Yae Publishing House that turns a user's dreams into light novel stories. Kaveh has the (un)fortunate pleasure of being one of its first users. Too bad it dumped him in a romance game.

The Theorem of Narrow Interests by lumielle (M, 36k)

Kaveh clicks his tongue. “Well, I hope you are also aware that with all these requirements, you don’t get a set (A+B), or even (A+B+C). Yours is a set comprised of the entire Sumerian alphabet!” Kaveh has had enough of Alhaitham always loitering around the house. In an attempt to get Alhaitham to go out more often, he jokingly tells him to start dating someone. Much to Kaveh’s shock, Alhaitham agrees—and promptly assigns him as his personal matchmaker. And even though Alhaitham’s requirements for his ideal partner are annoyingly specific, Kaveh refuses to back down from a good challenge. He’s confident in his abilities—that is, until his own feelings start getting in the way…

Precipice by viiparyas (M, 37k)

Lately, his heart staggers at a precipice, just one breath from toppling over. Into what, he doesn’t know. After everything, after everything… He can’t help but melt easily into the intimacy between them, whether it’s by his design or not.

Kaveh has won fame and renown through Sumeru, witnessed the dissolution of a corrupt government, traveled from the trenches of homelessness to the pinnacles of a fairytale paradise. And yet something deep between his ribs screams, more, more, more.

or, Kaveh discovering what he truly wants and finally reaching for it. (Spoiler alert: it's Alhaitham)

nazar by pencanze (T, 13k)

It’s like they’re in a globed world of their own, trapped within a glazed bead. Shatterproof, soundproof, impregnable and unbreakable to anyone else—anyone besides themselves. (On superstitions, friendships, and other things that shatter.)

case study of the scribe by Jazer (T, 25.5k)

"The consequences of obtaining knowledge is the overwhelming feeling of loneliness. "

In which Alhaitham realizes that a peaceful existence does not have to mean a lonely one.

People keep coming to Al-Haitham when they want to know where Kaveh is. Al-Haitham would be lying if he said he didn't know why.

silviculture by sunsmasher (T, 13k)

Kaveh’s face is bright, young, flushed, freckled, happy. He’s wearing an Akademiya uniform and is as tall as the last time Alhaitham saw him (fifteen minutes ago) which means he’s an inch or two shorter than the last time Alhaitham saw him, because the uniform boots are heeled. He’s staring at Alhaitham with the aforementioned flush spreading like dye over the silk of his cheeks. “Kaveh,” Alhaitham says. “Don’t freak out. I believe I’ve been displaced in time.”

spitefully yours by luminvies (T, 6k)

Dear Al-Haitham, I propose that we meet this Friday at sundown on the southeast edge of the city bordering Avidya Forest. This is a marital engagement. Please come prepared with your sword at the ready. With spite, Kaveh Al-Haitham sets down the letter, letting out a long sigh. After all, isn’t the answer to dealing with domestic disputes not marriage? Isn’t that entirely contradictory to the issue?

Kaveh sends Al-Haitham martial summons to sort out their issues. Unfortunately, he makes a small error in the letter.

The Art of Misunderstanding by Anonymous (M, 7k)

"Kaveh didn't consider himself to be vain. Yet he was becoming increasingly, upsettingly aware that most associates would disagree. Vanity, by definition, refers to an inflated sense of self-importance and pride in oneself. A vain person may believe themselves to be the best in the room. They may find it absurd that all eyes do not fall on them the instant they make themselves known. A vain person may put themselves on a pedestal, believing themselves objectively skilled in their field. And though Kaveh had trust and confidence in himself as an artist, he was caught entirely off-guard to hear that others thought of him as vain." ------ AKA, Kaveh misunderstands when he overhears an upsetting conversation between old classmates. His assumption is that they are attacking his character and commenting on his personality. In reality, they're talking about his looks. Everyone picks up on it, save for Kaveh himself.

Illness, Drowning, and Other Minor Inconveniences by EulerIHKH (G, 11k)

Faced with a uniquely difficult client, Kaveh is reluctantly forced to look for help in the one architect he considers more capable than himself: his mother. But soon enough, the turmoil of Kaveh's personal life begins to seep into their professional correspondence, forcing him to reevaluate his career, relationships, and identity.

love haitham and kaveh....love these fics....so many talented writers...thank you authors <33 def missing a bunch bc my organization on ao3 is horrendous but i can update this or make another list at some point....also i would highly appreciate any recs tyy🙏

( + bonus not rec but self promo of a hkvh fic i tried my hand at writing last summer but never shared oops. here she is if you're intrigued

a comedy of errors (T, 6.7k) )

[lumiellle]

Tumblrを始めてから10周年を迎えました 🥳

It’s been 10 years, I can’t believe it. Time to update my fic tag soon, I guess 😶

[lumiellle]

[lumiellle]

Haikavember Day 5: Heat 🔞

Kaveh is burning up. Everything is blazing hot: From the blasted summer heat streaming in freely from the open window to the fabric of the sheets rubbing against his naked body, from Alhaitham’s breath stirring the hair on Kaveh’s neck to the searing sensation of his hand sliding down low over the swell of his ass. Kaveh feels like pure pyro essence is circulating through his system.

Alhaitham drags his lips along Kaveh’s shoulder, leaving wet kisses in his wake. His hand, which had finally, finally come close to where Kaveh desperately wanted it, instead of dipping between his cheeks, slides around to his front, fingers trailing through the coarse hair below his navel. Kaveh bites out a low groan.

“Haitham, it’s been half an hour. Can we get on with it already? Please?”

He usually holds the word ‘please’ back until he absolutely needs to use it, knowing full well how much Alhaitham likes it when he begs, but he’s not about to put himself through another thirty minutes of painfully drawn-out foreplay—not when he’s so hard it’s starting to get uncomfortable, and definitely not when he can clearly feel Alhaitham’s erection digging into his hip, precome smeared across the small of Kaveh’s back.

“Patience is a virtue,” Alhaitham murmurs, the scrape of his teeth against Kaveh’s skin electrifying. “You should know that, senior. Besides, we’ve both got tomorrow off, so I want to take my time today.”

Kaveh holds back a moan when Alhaitham’s hand dips lower, teasing along the inside of his thigh. “I’d like to see your face next time you’re the one begging for me to just fuck you and all I’ll do is tease you for an hour,” he bites out.

He feels Alhaitham’s chest vibrate against his back as he lets out a breathy moan. “What an enticing…proposal. Though I’m afraid you wouldn’t last,” he says against Kaveh’s sweaty skin while he grinds against him from behind.

Kaveh scoffs. “Don’t project your own issues onto me. I have plenty of stamina, which you know better than anyone else, but it’s not about that. Doesn’t it—” Kaveh shivers when Alhaitham’s fingers start to travel again, inching towards his entrance. “Doesn’t it mean anything to you that I’m telling you I want you inside me right now?” Kaveh grinds back against Alhaitham to drive his point home, which elicits another delicious moan.

“Well, what about me? Does it mean nothing to you that I want to make it last?” Alhaitham counters. It makes Kaveh’s skin crawl in the best way possible.

“We can just go multiple rounds if it’s about that. Please?” Kaveh tries again, craning his neck back to look at Alhaitham. Curls of Alhaitham’s silver hair stick to his sweaty forehead, making him look just as wrecked as Kaveh feels. His eyes are dark, his lips parted. Kaveh doubts he truly means to drag this out any longer, because he looks like he’s on the brink of losing control over himself.

“Haitham, please,” Kaveh pleads, and he can tell he’s finally gotten through to him, because after this it takes only a second for his eyes to flutter shut and a groan to leave Alhaitham’s mouth—and then he’s kissing him.

It’s a messy kiss, all teeth and tongue, but Kaveh drinks it all in, knowing he’s won. A string of spit keeps them connected for a split second when they part.

Kaveh wipes his mouth, listening intently to the rustle of the sheets as Alhaitham finally twists his body to retrieve the oil from the nightstand. He hears the telltale sound of the lid being unscrewed, and then Alhaitham is back, a wall of heat against Kaveh’s back.

“I’m going to touch you now,” Alhaitham says quietly, as if Kaveh needed the heads-up. Kaveh nods wordlessly, wiggling his hips as a sign for him to get on with it. When Alhaitham finally circles a finger around Kaveh’s hole Kaveh jumps—the oil is hot to the touch.

Or, well, it’s not really hot, but it’s not the cool sensation Kaveh expected either. It’s warm, but the longer he stays in contact with it the more the warmth seems to spread. “You—you grabbed the warming jelly,” he gasps.

They’d bought it a while back, so Kaveh had almost forgotten they had it at all. He doesn’t remember it feeling this intense.

“Is it uncomfortable?” Alhaitham asks, his finger stilling.

“N-no, keep going,” Kaveh says. “It’s good.”

Alhaitham presses a kiss to Kaveh’s shoulder and continues. When he slowly presses a finger inside, Kaveh thinks he’s going to burst. He must be overheating, because it definitely didn’t feel this good the first time they used it. It makes him feel like his insides are on fire, but it’s not the stinging sort of heat one might expect. It’s velvety somehow, and it makes him crave more.

Alhaitham adds a second finger, gently stretching him open before starting up a leisurely rhythm of in-and-out. He breathes harshly against Kaveh’s neck while he fingers him, stoking heat in Kaveh’s gut. The damned jelly is making everything feel so intense.

“H-hurry up,” Kaveh gasps, pushing himself down onto Alhaitham’s fingers, forcing them deeper. “At this rate I’m really not gonna last—oh, yes—” Alhaitham’s fingers brush against Kaveh’s prostate, sending intense pleasure through his lower half. Flames coil in Kaveh’s belly, heat mounting, sweat seeping into the sheets as he writhes in his lover’s embrace.

“How does it feel?” Alhaitham’s voice comes out breathless and raspy, but his fingers keep stroking along Kaveh’s most sensitive spot with scary accuracy. Kaveh isn’t sure he ever answers the question; he doesn’t have words to describe the way everything feels hot to the touch when he shouldn’t be feeling it this intensely with the high temperatures surrounding them already. He cries out Alhaitham’s name and then half an attempt at something that should have been a warning, but it’s too late. Kaveh comes with a choked moan, come shooting off the edge of the bed and onto the floor.

Alhaitham works him through it for another few strokes before pulling his fingers out. He’s breathing heavily into the crook of Kaveh’s neck, and it isn’t until some of the fog muddling Kaveh’s brain lifts that he notices something sticky and hot running down his back.

“Did you…” he starts, but Alhaitham cuts him off with a sloppy kiss.

Kaveh's head spins, a laugh working its way up his throat. “What was that,” he starts, “about making it last?”

Alhaitham groans, face smushed against Kaveh’s shoulder blade. He mumbles something into his skin, but it’s unintelligible.

“What was that?”

“I said,” Alhaitham huffs, leaning up over Kaveh’s shoulder to look him in the eye, “I wasn’t done with you yet.”

“I’ll hold you to that, then,” Kaveh replies. He pushes Alhaitham back into the sheets and rolls on top of him, careful not to rub against him while he’s still sensitive.

“Give me five minutes,” Alhaitham says with a lopsided smile on his lips, his hands settling on Kaveh’s back.

“Mh.”

Alhaitham kisses him—slowly, sweetly this time. A different sort of heat spreads throughout Kaveh’s body when Alhaitham kisses him like this—like he’ll never let him go again.

The humid heat of the Sumeran summer fades into the background as they start to fan the flames of passion for a second time that night.

[lumiellle]

Haikavember Day 4: Inspiration

“Say, Alhaitham, do you ever feel inspired?”

Kaveh asks him this question unprompted. Their conversation had just lapsed into comfortable silence, the previous topic done. He blinks at Alhaitham, then his eyes flick back to his glass, red wine swirling around it as he twirls it between his fingers.

“Inspired?” Alhaitham asks. Kaveh’s question is too open, leaving too much room for interpretation.

Kaveh seems to dislike receiving answers that deviate from the intended meaning of his questions, though he hasn’t learned to phrase them accordingly, so Alhaitham struggles to find fault within his own way of interpreting these questions.

“You know, like when you read a really nicely worded paper and it makes you want to add to the discussion,” Kaveh says.

So it’s that kind of question.

Alhaitham supposes that he does feel inspired sometimes. A lot of times, actually. It started, if he remembers correctly, right around the time he and Kaveh met on that fateful day in the House of Daena. Up until that point he’d preferred to keep to himself, taking little interest in what other students had to contribute to class discussions. Even most of the professors failed to pique his interest, which was one of the reasons he stayed homeschooled and self-taught for the better part of his youth. He never felt inclined to engage in prolonged debates with his peers. They seemed to be living a different reality, and the resulting disconnect was too great for Alhaitham to want to bridge that invisible gap.

Kaveh crashed into his life full force—he was loud, passionate and intelligent. He still is, even though life has been unkind to him. Alhaitham knew immediately that Kaveh was different. He was like him in ways the other students his age weren’t.

It didn’t take long before he found himself scribbling away furiously in an attempt to refute a claim Kaveh had made in one of his homework assignments. He had written critiques of published authors’ works many times before that, but this time his heart was in it. There was something happening inside of him, a flame of need flickering incessantly where muted nothingness had been before, his pen sliding across parchment without care for all the smudged ink on his hand or the balance of his lettering. He needed to write. Nothing else mattered.

Kaveh had brought out a side of him Alhaitham hadn’t been aware of himself. His desire to interact with Kaveh’s thoughts, both in person and on paper, only grew over time. Where he was apathetic at best during most of his classes, he raised his hand eagerly in classes he shared with his favorite senior, and if only to nitpick tiny details in his presentations or statements.

After things went downhill between the two of them, Alhaitham found himself bereaved of all drive. Freshly graduated, he should have been actively seeking employment, but he barely managed to get himself out of bed some days. Even though he hadn’t felt like anything was amiss before he met Kaveh, it seemed that the spark of life, the curiosity Kaveh had inspired in him had left him in the same way Kaveh had left his life.

It wasn’t until he started noticing several postings across the notice boards around the city on his infrequent trips to the market to restock on groceries that the flame that had lain dormant inside of him was rekindled. The postings were anonymous and eclectic in terms of content, but Alhaitham knew who was leaving them. He could tell from the way their author phrased certain ideas, and he would recognize that looping handwriting anywhere.

Before he knew it, Alhaitham had pulled a pen out of his belt pouch and started scribbling his answer to Kaveh’s posting. 

When he returned the next day to find a disgruntled reply, he couldn’t help the smile creeping onto his lips. He felt like, in a way, Kaveh had allowed him to step back into his life, even if it was unclear whether Kaveh had realized it was him or not. 

If he were to be entirely honest, he would have to admit that Kaveh was indirectly responsible for a good chunk of Alhaitham’s early scholarly work. If he were to be honest, he’d tell him that he inspires him every day, just by being himself—even though Alhaitham doesn’t share his ideals, he respects the way he never strays from them. But Kaveh doesn’t take kindly to Alhaitham’s honesty; he has an uncanny knack for interpreting ill intent into his actions, or maybe a learned inability to take words of affection for what they are, specifically when they come from Alhaitham.

So, looking back at Kaveh over the rim of his own glass, Alhaitham says, “Funny you should ask. I suppose that recently, I’ve been feeling more inspired than I have in a long time.”

[lumiellle]

Haikavember Day 21 - Cold ❄️

Kaveh's outfit is not the best for going to Dragonspine, but Haitham's…

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Haikavember Day 3: Feast

For as long as Kaveh can remember, Alhaitham has always had a knack for showing affection through his cooking.

At first, he didn’t realize what he was doing. The very first time Alhaitham cooked for him, Kaveh poked at the food with his fork, contemplating the probability of it being poisoned. It was something Alhaitham called ‘an improved version of sabz meat stew’, but it was beyond recognizable. The flat, pizza-like substance had very few similarities with the sort of stews Kaveh was familiar with, not to mention the addition of an actual word written on it in herb sauce.

“Just try it,” Alhaitham had said, so Kaveh hesitantly took a small bite. It was unlike anything he’d ever tasted before.

To his complete and utter shock, it was delicious.

After that first time, Kaveh gained a little more trust in Alhaitham’s cooking, though the message Alhaitham was trying to convey kept flying over Kaveh’s head for a while. At first, there was ‘Contemplation’, written on what Kaveh eventually helped Alhaitham rename ‘Ideal Circumstance’. 

More dishes followed, each decorated with a singular word: Observation, Companionship, and right about the time Alhaitham was about to lose patience, as he later told Kaveh, Adoration.

Kaveh thought about that last one for a good while, even after he finished eating the meal Alhaitham prepared for him that day. He couldn’t fathom what Alhaitham’s understanding of adoration might encompass, much less who or what might even elicit such an emotion from him—after all, in the realm of Kaveh’s imagination, the only thing he could envision Alhaitham adoring was books, and he was positive he felt no need to remind Kaveh of that fact. It was also possible Alhaitham wasn’t talking about himself at all. For all Kaveh knew, he could have been practicing his calligraphy using random words (and sauce).

“There is a saying in Mondstadt,” Alhaitham told him when Kaveh finally confronted him about the cryptic messages he’d been leaving all over Kaveh’s dinner. “They say that love goes through the stomach. I hope that answers your questions.”

Kaveh mulled over Alhaitham’s words; he even consulted a couple of dictionaries for usage examples of the saying, but ultimately felt like he was interpreting too much into it. After all, there was no way it was that simple, right? It wasn’t like Alhaitham to try and tell Kaveh that he had feelings for him in such a roundabout way.

And still, Kaveh couldn’t shake the thought once it had been planted in his head—and for a while he was convinced that he was losing his sanity, because Alhaitham’s runic dinner embellishments didn’t stop. In fact, they were starting to get more direct every day.

Kaveh thought about how to best broach the topic with Alhaitham, how to convey how these little gestures were making him feel. At first, he didn’t think much of it, but as days bled into weeks, he knew he could no longer brush his own feelings aside. The simplest dishes started feeling like scrumptious feasts to Kaveh, and not only because they tasted good. He felt like each bite he took warmed his insides, each word consumed unraveling into unspoken confessions. 

In the end, Kaveh felt like there was only one way to go about it. He decided to try and emulate Alhaitham’s strange way of communicating with him—so one night, after Alhaitham had taken a seat at the table, Kaveh served him a portion of omelet rice, the word ‘Trust’ carefully written in ketchup standing out vibrantly against the gold of the omelet. It took him a good chunk of courage to write it out, but it felt right—just as Alhaitham had been giving him all these little hints about how he was feeling, Kaveh wanted to give something back. Something he hadn’t been able to give Alhaitham for a long time. He was willing to try again.

Kaveh sat across from Alhaitham with his own plate of food (sans ketchup-lettering), nervously waiting for Alhaitham to comment on Kaveh’s creation.

And comment Alhaitham did, but not until he had polished off his entire dinner. Kaveh almost thought he wasn’t going to say anything at all, but when he walked around the table to collect Kaveh’s empty plate, he felt Alhaitham’s hand brushing against his shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said, the corners of his mouth upturned. “It means a lot to me.” Then he stepped away from the table to do the dishes as if nothing had happened, leaving a red-faced Kaveh behind, his heart hammering in his chest.

After that night, writing messages on each other’s meals became a common occurrence in their shared household. Even after Kaveh plucked up all his courage and confessed his feelings to Alhaitham properly, the tradition stuck. 

Today, too, Kaveh finds himself smiling down at the dinner Alhaitham brought him to his work desk. Written in tomato sauce, mild as Kaveh likes it, four letters complete the dish: ‘Love’.

[lumiellle]

yehh✨

[lumiellle]

Haikavember Day 20 - Bubble 🫧

Ft. their Fontainois outfits~

[lumiellle]

Haikavember Day 2: Memory

In a small cubic jewel case, Alhaitham keeps his favorite memories. 

The gold paint on the outside started peeling several years ago, but he hasn’t found a good enough reason to switch it out for a newer one. He supposes, in a way, the case has become part of the memory. And even though Alhaitham is not a sentimental person, over the years he has come to find comfort and joy in revisiting memories of times bygone. In the jewel case, he keeps a single memory disk.

He sits on one of the couches one rainy afternoon, studying the slideshow of digitized Kamera pictures projected onto the opposite wall. If he thinks about it, this sort of technology has already given way to newer, more advanced successors, but he likes the simplicity of old-fashioned crystal ore disks. They don’t easily break, and even though their storage capacity isn’t great, they get the job done.

He listens to his husband tinkering with the coffee maker in the kitchen while his eyes linger on a snapshot of the two of them captured on their wedding day. Alhaitham’s eyes are glassy and bloodshot from crying. Kaveh’s holding a tissue, laughing and crying at the same time, wiping Alhaitham’s face. It’s one of Alhaitham’s favorite pictures of them even though he looks horrible in it.

The next picture was shot at the Akademiya. It shows Kaveh, cradling an enormous bouquet in his arms, beaming from ear to ear. Fifteen years ago, Kaveh received his first permanent teaching position at the Akademiya, which he took as his chance to revive Kshahrewar’s former renown. Alhaitham remembers him voicing concerns about juggling teaching and managing his design studio, but in the end he figured out how to make it work, succeeding spectacularly in both fields.

“Looking at old photos again?” comes Kaveh’s voice, not from the kitchen, but right next to Alhaitham. He looks up to find his husband standing by the couch, holding two steaming cups of coffee. “You’ve become soft, Haitham.”

Alhaitham accepts his cup of coffee, making room for Kaveh to sit next to him. “You must have rubbed off on me,” Alhaitham says simply, switching to the next photo.

Kaveh harrumphs but doesn’t move away. He lets out a wistful sigh at the picture on display. It’s a portrait of Alhaitham that Kaveh shot, just for the fun of it.

“You never wore your hair like that again after this,” Kaveh says, eyeing Alhaitham over his coffee. “It looked so much better than the unkempt mess you called a hairstyle when we were in our early twenties.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have the needed amount of hair left to recreate that style now,” Alhaitham retorts.

“Liar,” Kaveh says. He’s seen the bundles of silver hair clogging the drain in the bath—complained about them, too—and yet he’s never made fun of him for it. “If you’d just let me do your hair, you’d see that a little bit of hair loss isn’t a problem at all. At any rate, you look better now than you did back then,” he says, his hand coming to rest on Alhaitham’s thigh.

“Even with all of these wrinkles?” Alhaitham quips, pointing at his own face.

“Especially with the wrinkles. They make you look human.” Kaveh’s thumb strokes gentle circles into Ahaitham’s thigh. Alhaitham hums, taking a sip from his coffee. It sends warmth spreading through his chest.

They watch the remainder of the slideshow together. When they are done, Kaveh helps him tidy the space. He extracts the memory disk from the projector and hands it to Alhaitham, who returns it to the safety of the jewel case. He hopes that when the time comes for him to take it out again, Kaveh will be joining him then, too. He is a central part of these memories, so for as long as life will allow it, he will always prefer to have Kaveh right there next to him.

(Of course, Alhaitham intends to use the memory disk not only for revisiting the past. Their thirtieth anniversary is coming up, so chances are they will be adding more photos to the collection soon.)

[lumiellle]

☀️🌱

[lumiellle]

AUs for when your OTP are both assholes

You drive a massive SUV and steal my parking spot all the time and I was just heading out to leave a strongly worded note under your windshield wiper but oh no you’re hot AU

I’m a barista and you’re the obnoxious customer who comes through and orders a venti macchiato while talking on the phone the whole time so I misspell your name in increasingly creative ways every day AU

I’m a busy businessperson and my barista keeps misspelling my name in increasingly disrespectful ways, honestly, who does this person think they are AU

We were both playing wingman for our friends who have now decided to go home together, and after five minutes of conversation we fucking hate each other, let’s bang it out AU

I saw you trying to hit the “door close” button in the elevator but I made it in and then I pushed every single button to make you later for work, but now we’re stuck in this fucking elevator as it stops at every single floor and I don’t know what to say other than “you started it” AU

I asked for your help getting a book off the top shelf and and you laughed at my taste and called me a nerd so I shoved you into a table of nonfiction best-sellers and that’s how we both got banned from the quirky community bookstore AU

I take my grades very seriously and you’re the lazy asshole who asks a ton of off-topic questions to distract the professor and I might be a foot shorter than you but I swear to god I’ll fight you AU

You tried to barge into a private conversation so I said something devastatingly witty and dismissive but you came back with something even meaner and more clever AU

Shouting match over the last Thanksgiving turkey at the grocery store AU

[lumiellle]

oh-

(pose is a redraw of this)

[lumiellle]

booba pillow honk shoo mimimi 💤

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but the show must go on

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Found on twitter, going to adopt this now

Writer friends, tell me how many WIPs and how many UFOs you have. I have 2 WIPs and [redacted] UFOs (jk it’s around 16 across my three main fandoms)

[lumiellle]

be mine.