#also haitham's character story is so.

[raazberry]

oh my god canon disproved me with something even more gay

[enden-k]

btw if i make kaveh say "oh my god" pls imagine him say that EXACTLY the way his english VA does bc its always stuck in my head with how funny and perfect it is ajkcjkab

[4giorno]

????? the way ppl were speaking made it seem like al haitham like. destroyed all kavehs belongings and spat in his face and maybe even killed him idk. just something way different and out of character than what he was already doing

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。08:00 PM — AL-HAITHAM.

idk i just felt like. writing haitham grieving his grandmother. it’s also a slight character study ig. idk if anyone will read this but if you do. just know that he is the core of my heart. his grandmother too i mourn her death so much sobs

“hey,” you say gently, sitting next to him. al-haitham only grunts in acknowledgment, slumped on the couch. “d’you want dinner? i made your favorite.”

“not hungry,” he mumbles.

his grandmother’s death anniversary is a sore spot. it’s a day you tiptoe around carefully every year. you don’t know much about his family—just that he was orphaned very young and raised by his father’s mother until the ripe age of 16. you’ve seen the dainty handwriting inside the covers of books, and you’ve even seen a small, framed photograph that he keeps stowed away.

sometimes, you wish he’d tell you. you wish the far away look and the clenched fist around the fabric of his pants would ease with your presence. you wish he’d tell you about her, that you’d know the woman who raised the man you love—even if only through hushed words and old stories.

“you hate sleeping on an empty stomach,” you hum, placing your hand over his clenched one.

his fist loosens a little—progress.

“i…” he pauses, let’s out a heavy sigh before letting his head fall back. there’s tension in his shoulders, in his neck, in the jaw he keeps so tightly clenched. “i won’t be sleeping for a bit. sorry,” he tries to sound apologetic. you don’t hear much in his tone besides defeat. “you can head in without me.”

“that’s okay,” you shrug, forcing his clenched fingers apart to weave yours in with his. “i don’t sleep well without you anyway.”

“suit yourself,” is all he says.

and it’s silent for a bit. he seems to be thinking deeply—or reminiscing, maybe grieving. maybe all three, but you’re not too sure. you’re never too sure when it comes to how al-haitham feels about anything.

he’s hard to decipher—but he’s easy to pull apart. you don’t understand how someone as hard and calculating as him is so gentle with love, but it’s hard not to notice how soft his touch is, how it lingers, how the tips of his fingers long for you. you don’t doubt he loves you—he never gives you the chance to.

but sometimes….sometimes you wish he’d let you love him properly. to kiss the scars. to admire the parts he thinks are ugly. to shelter the thoughts that have no home besides his own head.

it’s silent for a bit—until it’s not. you break the silence first, like you’re holding a hand out for him from the shore as he drifts aimlessly.

“baby?” you ask quietly. he grunts again in response. “what was she like?”

“who?”

al-haitham is a smart man. probably the smartest you’ve ever met. you don’t think you’ve ever met someone who read physics books as a pastime, and you’re pretty certain he’ll always be the only one. you know he knows exactly what you’re asking and you know he’s avoiding it.

but it doesn’t stop you though—it’s been long enough, you think. you’ve known him long enough. craved him for a few summers and loved him for enough winters that he has pieces of you that fall through the cracks of your resolve.

you think you deserve a few pieces of him too—even if your fingers have to reach past the cracks themselves, even if they have to slice against the jagged edges and bleed a little in the process.

you’ll bleed for him—like the sun rises from the east and sets in the west, your heart beats for al-haitham. and it’ll bleed for him too.

“your grandmother,” you whisper. “you’ve never told me about her.”

“there’s not much to tell,” he shrugs. “she died right before i enrolled in the akademiya and she raised me after my parents died.”

“i’m sure there’s more,” you say gently—his grip has tightened on your hand now. you don’t think he realizes—in fact, you don’t think al-haitham realizes half of what he feels when it comes to vulnerability.

it’s why he realizes he loves you so late. it’s why you fall first and he falls after. but he falls harder—it’s not hard to see.

“she was a kshahrewar scholar,” he offers blankly.

your thumb brushes over his knuckles, and it’s almost like your hand reaches past the shore just a little further—you don’t mind risking the fall into the water if it means pulling him out.

“haitham,” you sigh delicately. he swallows. it’s hard to keep composure for long—even for someone like him.

grief is an evil thing. it’s a familiar friend—one you wish you never made and one you’ll never shake away. it dances with you under the moonlight, when the stars are bright but the sky is heavy. it barely grazes your skin some days but weighs into your bones on others. it’s a cruel thing really—and it hits you harder some moments than others.

“she was kind,” he starts slowly, his hand reaching out and grabbing yours over the shoreline. maybe, just maybe, sometimes he can get tired of drifting too. “she liked to bake. her hands got too weak to knead dough when i got older, though. you would have liked her tarts. she couldn’t read without her glasses and she always forgot they were on her head. she said my father looked like her husband and that i look like my father. she used to ask me to read to her sometimes so i’d sit on her lap and read my books out loud. she loved the sunrise but was never good at waking up on time to see it. she used to drink tea during sunsets. she liked hers extra sweet and i liked mine more bitter. i…” he pauses, voice shaky as his fingers dig into your hand. you squeeze, and he sniffles. “i haven’t had tea since she passed.”

“she sounds lovely,” you whisper. “i would have loved to meet her.”

“she’d have loved you,” he cracks a small smile, shaking his head as he thinks. “probably more than she loved me.”

“i’m sure i’d never compare to her darling grandson,” you chuckle, bumping arms with him. his head drops to your shoulder—you hesitate for a moment before deciding to pull him into your chest. and when he doesn’t protest, when he buries himself into you instead of pulling away, you thread your fingers into his hair.

“i miss her,” he croaks quietly.

“i know,” you soothe. “i know, baby.”

al-haitham has only ever known love twice in his life. one is gone but it lives through the other. the gentle touch against his scalp and the warmth under his cheek is familiar—it feels like the lap he slept on when he was six. it feels like the delicate hands that cupped his cheeks when he was eight. it feels like the soft kisses against his temple when he was ten.

al-haitham has only ever known love twice in his life, and he’s glad that one of them is you.

“you’d have loved her too,” his voice breaks. you kiss his head as you feel your shirt dampen.

“i already do,” you murmur, “she raised you well. i have her to thank.”

his breath hitches at that—and then he pulls you closer, grasps you tighter, falls in love with you harder. his grandmother’s death anniversary has always been a sore spot—but somehow, you numb the ache even if by just a little.

gently, your hand clasps his and pulls him to shore. he’s grateful he doesn’t have to drift alone anymore.

there is nothing i’m more obsessed with than al-haitham’s childhood. i have so many thought about it. and him. and his character. and his inner thoughts and feelings and most of them revolve around his grandmother and more importantly her passing. and idk. he’s just sosososo important to me i wish we knew more about his grandmother. i love her so much i grieve her passing even though we’ve never even met her 😭

[lilimalia]

PENPALS // alhaitham

SYNOPSIS... where a far overworked employee takes to participating in The Steambirds newest news program, 'Penpal System'. Only to fall horribly in love with your penpal buddy... who’s also someone you know?

CHARACTERS... alhaitham (al-haitham?), kaveh, sumeru npc's, nahida/kusanali, aether (traveller), 4ggrevate + more!

DISCLAIMERS... , female reader, 3.2 archon quest spoilers, small enemies to lovers, cursing, aether traveller, very nerdy + silly reader who is soo emotionally stunted, not proofread

BARISTA'S INTEL... posting this like a year after I pulled alhaitham during his first banner o7... Anyways this fanfic went through so many revisions I hope yall enjoy (alhaitham loml <3)

CAFE TUNE... love story // Indila

LETTER X: Promotion

Working with a boss who is self-sufficient and only prioritizes finishing his nine to five job may actually just kill you.

Even if he’s really, really, really, cute.

Ever since the "great all-mighty" Alhaitham and the hero nicknamed 'The Traveler' saved your "wonderful" Sumeru. A day with the notorious 'Acting Grand Scribe' of Sumeru's Akademiya typically goes like this;

You wake up from a half satisfying sleep, realizing you've once again spent your night face smushed across the hard cold wooden desks of The House of Daena's library. Students who had a life less toxicating then your own; stared, whispering a far bit louder then what they thought would be out of range. Your eyes droop in defeat, having given up frantically -well, to the onlookers, maniacally- explaining that your boss was an egotistical know-it-all that forced you to stay late nights. At some point, all reason to argue became needless months after serving as Alhaitham's secretary.

Staggering half-mindedly down the pavilion, Sumerian robes fluttering loosely around your body as you swipe them sleeves closer to your chest, you tilt your nose up to the aroma of fresh baking from the stalls below. A savory smell of spices licks at your senses as you wander closer to the trail of delectable food waiting for you. It barely takes more than a minute for you to come waddling into Lambad's Tavern

Your daily saving grace, as you peak through the windows, eyes shocking open.

Peering over the windows, you glance nervously side to side as you scour the filled tables for signs of silver flickering hair adorned with a snobby headset of golden. A relieving sigh flies past your lips when you find that no such person exists. At least... In the Tavern.

Although, a tall brunette man peers above the counters, wooden dishes in hand as he notices you. Chuckling knowingly as he serves his customers, watching you stalk his windows. Like a creep-

Goodness, sometimes you almost felt bad for Lambad...

Motioning for you to come in, relief overtakes as you stomp in satisfied, waving politely and flashing a sweet cheery smile at the regulars as you march towards Lambad's bulky figure, his muscles flexing as he waves happily.

"[Name]! It's been only half a day since your last visit! I trust you're still buried head to toe in paperwork? Come, have a seat!"

Graciously, he leans over the table, pulling out a barstool for you as he hunkers back, grabbing a bottle of something underneath.

"Archons grace, you're such a sweetheart Lambad... You're way too kind. You have no idea. Gods, sometimes, I don't even know if I'm dreaming or wide awake and still working this hellish job!! Pleaseee Lambad... You've have got to save me!" Rambling on and on, you thump on the stool, groaning instantly as you slump over the counter, stretching your hands over your face.

Pulling down your cheeks with your hands, a quiet dramatic sob leaves your drained face as you stare all sopping like at the man.

Pouring out a baby yellow drink out of the bottle, Lambad pushes forward a chilled glass, adorned with small chunks of Zaytun peaches. Your mopey eyes trail to the faint sweet smell, launching out to pull the drink in as you place your chin on it.

Ahh... Sweet refreshing cold.

"Oh wow... Sure sounds like you've been through a lot [Name]! Here, try this new peach lassi I came up with recently! It'll be sure to cheer up your stomach at the very least! We can't have Sumeru's best worker going around on an empty stomach now can we!"

Sipping at the drink, the smooth texture of the yogurt mixed drink softens down your throat. An icy touch following with as the sour sweetness beckons you.

Whenever hungry, overworked, and far to underpaid to give enough of a damn, you could always count on Lambad Tavern.

Lambad himself was so used to listening to your daily problems he'd had learn overtime how to soothe your bitter heart. A nice new treat and the bonus of a bar seat left you no room for complaint. Often, he'd make sure to leave a small key underneath a nearby bush, hidden safely in a stowed away box.

Months back, when your boss had first been appointed at his position, and those darn Akademiya scholars had deemed you the perfect candidate to be his dog, Lambad had requested the Kshahrewar Darshan students to craft a small box for the extra key. A distinctive little wooden keep, shaped like a leaf with several knobs pointing out like twigs. Upon his request, the darshan had taken extra care to make the box as interesting and interchangeable as possible.

It made for a good pass time as you spent dewy, chilled mornings, left locked outside your apartment (archons forbid you remember the akasha terminals password for it) as you spent your early hours spent on a bench. Leaning over your crossed legs, you'd nit-pick on the box for hours, fiddling with the pin tumblr locks as you held the box close. Listening for small clicks left behind as the springs allowed for one lock to unlock another.

Zoning back in, you come to notice the lack of sweet yogurt lassi left in your chilled glass. Droplets now trickling down the sides of your glass as they collect, condensation pooling over your stunned fingertips wrapped around from the time you spent spaced out.

.

.

.

"Are you back yet' scholar? You blanked out longer than usual this time around. Hey, you spent so long thinking about whatever caused you to mope this time around, that you forgot to even tell me!" Laughing hardily, Lambad swipes the glass from underneath your freezing hand. Glancing back questioningly.

Strange. You don't usually space out when you're around company.

"Sorry Lambad, I don't know what that was... I just- Well, it felt like I just got wisped away... Weird." Pulling back your hands, you palm over the residual water in your hand, wiping it away on the ends of your Sumerian robes, clothes taking on a darker tone from the soak.

"No problem, lady! It's alright, happens to the best of us. Hey, that does remind me of a story I've been hearing though! Lately, other adventurers and Akademiyian scholars have been boasting around..."

Leaning in over the counter, Lambad whispers, eyes narrowing they dart around nervously,

"I hear that Adventurer's Guild Katheryne has got her hands full with this new program. It's from Fontaine's Steambird! Called the 'Penpal Program'... Sounds fun doesn't it?"

"I- What does that have to do with anything just now! Lambad... Are you crazy?"

"No, no! Let me finish. What I'm saying is, folks have been so upset in their work they've been writing about it across seas to anonymous friends. I hear it wisps you away into your own little escape!" Chuckling, Lambad pulls back, reaching into yet another cabinet as he searches the crevices for something.

"So, you're just nuts... Great, my only genuine friend... Lost to weird media," letting out a sigh, you plop back down on the counter in defeat.

Maybe you really weren't salvageable... First the weird spiraling, and now this strange program.

"Aha! Found it! Here, just give it a try [Name]... I'm sure it won't hurt you! You could really use a friend that wasn't a tavern owner you know..." heaving out a pile of papers, throwing them down; a puff of dust erupts. Lambad reaches for the top paper as he passes you it, huffing as he reorganizes the rest somewhere deep in his storage.

"You know, I worry about you lady... Seems like all you've been doing the past couple of months is working your end off for Scribe Alhaitham!-"

"Sh, sh, sh! Stop! Don't! Do not say his name. Oh, so help me Archons-"

At some point during the long arduous navigation to becoming Alhaitham's secretary, a strange phenomenon found itself into your life.

Sadly, every time you or your friends had mentioned the annoyance of a man, it seemed he'd find his way into your conversation one way or another... Almost predictably.

In any case, it made for a horrible superstition that the mere mention of his name could even summon him. Making it almost impossible to carry your normal tangents about the woes you faced. The oh-so-treacherous life of a secretary under a selfish boss.

At your defense, you had learned soon enough to warn your friends of the weird illusion. Finding out that if you could just convince them to omit the use of 'his' nine letter name it would solve his convenient interruptions into your life. Archons, the lengths you would (and have) taken to ignore this mans absolute atrocious presence...

Unfortunately, that never was a foolproof plan.

"Sorry! Sorry! I apologize... Forgot about that weird notion of yours to for a second..." Chuckling nervously, Lambad looks around, leaning in close to whisper,

"He couldn't possibly be around at this hour though... Could he?"

Inching in closer yourself, you murmur;

"I promise you, he's everywhere. It's so creepy... you have no idea!... One time-"

"[Name]? Is that you? Does your shift not start at 9 o'clock on the dot at the Akademiya secretary?"

"Fucking shi-"

Jumping up from your seat, your hand slams violently onto the wooden table (ouch) as you hop haphazardly out of your stool.

Glaring at Lambad, you watch as he sheepishly backs away, happily taking to ignoring your stink eye as he hums over your menacing hate. Forcing you to turnback your attention to the (unfortunately) approaching silver haired man as he strides in full glory.

Alhaitham, the notorious boss.

The man who caused you great distress day and night as he looms over your scholarly papers that he pushed onto you. Taking to taunting you and criticizing your work as he knowingly clocks out at five pm on the dot.

God, even his stride and speech was tantalizing.

It took every flexed stiffened muscle in your body not to revolt and gag on reflex as your eye twitched.

"Oh!... Alhaitham sir!... How- cough- good to see you so early. Yes, I know when my shift starts sir. I was merely grabbing a treat before I went to slave away- I mean, work on the demands the Akademiya higher ups sent in last night." Are you being dramatic, maybe, perhaps even yes, gags ensue.

Perking up a questioning brow, his muscles flex as he pulls down the golden headphones that laid flat over his head. Silky smooth voice clear as he ignores your obvious frustration,

"Right. Well, be sure to come by my- our; office sometime during your shift. I've received peculiar news you may just want to listen to. If you're so willing..."

Everything about him speaks superiority over you, it's almost more irritating that he still insists on calling the office he'd obtain over his promotion "ours".

A small noticing you had gained as you listened to how silky his baritone voice was, projecting across any room in a great demand. A reeling pull that you couldn't let loose from your mind.

It never was clear why he insisted on claiming the office was both his and yours. After all, the large thing of a room was piled head to toe in work addressed to him, letters asking for him and his advice, gifts and bribes designated to partition his favor; not yours.

Shaking off the thought, you nod, knuckles tightened beneath your long robe sleeves as your jaw clenches.

"Right. I'll be sure to come by as soon as I finish my business here, sir."

With that, a small nod flicks his head as he turns, walking pridefully away without a single glance back, closing the door in triumph as you groan.

It haunts you, the way his voice rings through your head and whispers behind your back;

honeyed low, demanding.

...

When you arrive at the infamous office, exactly 10 minutes before your actual clock-in, it barely surprises you to find Alhaitham already refined and sipping on a mug of coffee.

His dreary eyes running over the latest edition of The Steambird as he ignores your entry.

Huffing, your own eyes roll over, used to his lack of acknowledgement as you take to waiting on the soft (oh so warm and comfy) couch in his office.

Puffing the pillow up, you plop exasperated on the inviting seat, making sure to irritate him with your loudness as you reach to grab a novel from the neighboring coffee table.

It takes a couple awkward minutes as you both sit in dissonance silence, both flipping through each others respective readings. A habitual dance that was often played until either you or him in his pride chose to cough artlessly.

This time, after finding his fill of the latest news, Alhaitham's cough rings through the silence. Your momentary peace, broken, as soon as it was obtained...

"Are you done with that novel? Come, we have important matters to work on and I'd rather not waste the rest of today lingering around."

Cold and harsh, you reply in return,

"Just hand over whatever it is you're pushing on me this time, archons, it isn't as if you'll actually work on anything that doesn't benefit your personal goals Alhaitham." A tsk leaves your lips, stomping up and over to his table angrily as you peer over his newspaper.

His irises pool in irritation as the greens of his eyes close, eyelashes following. Narrowing his eyes as he surveys you back, maintaining an unknown feeling between your connection of gaze.

As of late, many mornings were spent with moments such as this, awkward responses, short curt flickering stares of temperate interactions. Alhaitham remarking about some part of your "lack of efficiency" to which you'd reply with a snide off hand remark.

Looking into his eyes, it was almost tempting to leave their chokehold on you, a want to trail your eyes down his sharp jawline, the hallows of his neck, the curves of his muscles and collarbone down to where the black of his shirts fabric tightened, defining their shape.

It felt almost reachable.

Kissable.

An urge to kiss away that silly, vexing, knowing glare of his. The uncouth way he continues to stare, waiting for you to respond first. As if he wasn't the one constantly pushing you to your limit, killing your spirit with his very presence.

What would it take to wipe that cocky morality of his?

A kiss to his jaw? Or maybe right where his soft, supple looking skin meets with the fabric of his tight shirt? Or perhaps even the back of his neck, where you once noticed was covered with equally luscious hair, and wires that connected with his headpiece.

Woah.

Where did that come from? That's not right...

This is Alhaitham, scribe of the Akademiya, your employer.

The man you detested to see each and every day. So where did these sudden fantasizing thoughts come from?

"Tch, here, lately, the Akademiya has been writing to me about the work you have done for them. It seems the work you produce meets with their subpar expectations. Congrats. This is your notice of promotion and details of increased wage. Please, feel free to celebrate this... Achievement elsewhere. After, you have finished your shift."

A letter stamped with the markings of a green wax leaf pulls from the desk, held in the palm of his hand as he continues to stare.

All this time, Alhaitham continues to look into your eyes. Prying at your very heart.

"... Oh, t-thank you sir. I'll be sure to review this..."

Still thinking about that strange string of thoughts you had, relectantly, you grab at the letter. Pausing just short of his extended hand,

"Are you... Toying with me?"

"Huh? Are you so disbelieving that I could have supported this recommendation from the scholars? Do I seem like such a dimwitted employer to you?"

"No! No... You're right, never mind. Thank you Alhaitham... Sir."

His hand is cold as you grab at the letter, electricity shocks through your fingertips as they connected with his.

A tint of warmth tingles through your body, rushing out of his office without a second thought.

Nerves run hyperactive throughout your body as your stand, knees wobbling as your back presses against the large wooden doors.

Letter crumpled into your clammy hands, a strange fuzzy feeling bubbles.

His hands... Seemed inviting. But oh, the way he stared. His eyes, they felt so tender and fond as they glowed, looking at you longingly, or so you could name.

Could visions very well do that to a wielders eyes? Make them glow with an unnerving amount of affection?

Your palms continue to grow sweaty as you try to soothe your pacing heart, pulsing still zapping through every bone in your body. A strange uneasiness clouding your head.

It takes you several minutes stood outside his door, trying to comprehend what the strange fuzziness was, before you opened the letter.

At least, maybe the letter could bring some sense into your clouded judgement.

Indeed, inside of the letter contained faked sugary words as they lined the new contractual rules. A bunch of normal office regulations listing out alongside a congratulations as you finally skip to the bottom, seeing a place to sign. Besides lay the words "Administrative Assistant" bolded and in cursive. The combining of a very, very, long set of numbers attached to the title, issuing your new wage.

Oh, sweet archons, you’re going to be rich.

Letter I: Introductions

Lately, a strange new habit has intruded on his normal life.

He often finds himself thinking a little too long about a certain someone within his life. It frustrates him to no end, considering how much it plagues him and drives him away from pure concentration to get through his workload. Alhaitham ponders the possibility of divine interference, confused as he sips on his mug of coffee.

After watching you leave in a rush just the hour before, it oddly piques him how quick you were to run out after your promotion. Though he knows you hate his guts for some reason or another, a strange tingle tugged at his chest as he had watched you leave. Strangely, he could almost say the feeling was sadness.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, the sad little feeling bubbling up in his pumping heart as he listened to the sound of your footsteps leaving without a second thought. How annoying.

You should at least have the decency to show your gratitude in front of him, instead of running away like he was the plague. Barely bothering to even smile at him when he had handed you the letter.

But... Your hands did feel nice against his own, a sharp zap of something eliciting through the mere touch you two had shared. He wishes that he could have been brave enough to grab at your hand, that weird tingly feeling of possessiveness as the thought of holding your hand twirled in his mind.

But only for a brief moment.

And there it is again- Moments like this were bizzare to him, for the past hour he had spent at his desk all he could think about was how your fingertips had grazed his own. An unusual sensation of what could only be described as joy as his mind danced around the idea of your hand in his.

A secondary thought of how confused you had seem peeks through, his eyes closing briefly as he tries to picture your face again. Rolling around the image of your confusion, hearing the saccharine tone of your voice thanking him as you had rushed out.

Was he really such a dreadful boss that a promotion seemed unlikely?

In any case, his eyes remain closed for a little longer, wrinkles adorned across his forehead as he tries to reimagine what he could have done wrong.

It's not as if he was some vile, inconsiderate man.

True, he had used the term 'dimwitted' and perhaps he had been known to be a little sharp tongued in the past. But it was all within sound reasoning. Right? …

Snapping out of his trance, his hand reaches for the tanned papers laid beside his mug. Bolden letters, inked in black, flowery design stretched out as it reads "Penpal Program ! hosted by The Steambird". Reviewing the contents of the column before placing his fingers around a random pen, itching to sign his name on the line. Perhaps taking the time to connect with people outside of simply you would anchor him back into reality. Anything that wasn't the constant cycle of you that replayed in his head.

It was unfortunate to say, but the amount of time he had lost in his work just thinking about what it would be like to spend his days with you really did affect his intellect more than he would like to admit. More unfortunate yet, even his 'friends' had taken notice. The bothersome room mate he housed, Kaveh, had found it amusing to make a game out of guessing what had gotten him so dazed as of late.

If it wasn't for the fact that sometimes, and only sometimes, Kaveh could offer decent advice, perhaps he wouldn't have considered the idea of figuring out one distraction with another... temporary one.

Afterall, why try and understand this vexing emotion when it would mean, he would have to confront you head on. Which sounds incredibly more irksome.

His room mate had been quick to point out this was not sound logic-

Kaveh did suggest, that perhaps Alhaitham could anonymously bring up this issue with a pen pal. A clean slate with no attachment to neither him or you, and could provide reasoning as to why he felt so... Unlike him. It would do him good to have someone to consult with, since, to his annoyance, Kaveh had stated he wasn't one to speak on his truths to anyone else, finding it annoying to deal with people in real life.

In his moment of brief intelligence, Alhaitham remembers him bringing up the mention that journalling and writing letters was a scientifically proven method of narrowing down how one feels. A key part that could help Alhaitham get to the bottom of his trance.

Though it peeved him that the blonde had been right, it was a good idea to journal his thoughts. It was simply a bonus that he would be receiving live feedback. Not that he would need it. Certainly, after taking some time to think it through these symptoms, it would obviously turn out to be he was right, and these feelings of butterflies were absolutely nothing at all.

Yet, fleeting memories of your face flash in his mind. Uncontrollable as he signs his name on the small contract slip below the newspaper. Thinking to himself how enchanting it would be to understand you. To peer into your vast thoughts, wondering if you too, ever contemplated him. Ever noticed him.

.

.

.

After spending nearly an hour ranting on to Lambad about your new promotion and massive paycheck, you find yourself in the establishment again, dwelling over a new dilemma.

Sitting on a stool in the Lambad Tavern once more, the lights flicker softly. Looking outside, the sky envelopes in a dark night. A chill breezing past your ankles as you scribble. The tiny noise of scratches and cups clinkering in the background as you squint your eyes.

Lambad peers over your shoulder, plates and cups alike stacked high on plates as his muscles flex to balance them. Raising a brow he looks curiously at the segment asking for your origins.

'Hello Participant! The SteamBird welcomes you to our new program. As of the new Inazuma border opening, our catalog figured it was time to branch out and bring together the people of Tevyat!

For suspenseful purposes, participants will not be allowed to reveal their true name. Keeping it a secret will be more exciting for both sides, don’t you think?

Below please list: age, gender, place of birth, and address for delivery.’

In your messy handwriting, out laid the letters spelling out the name of the nation of freedom.

"Mondstadt? I didn't realize you weren't native to Sumeru [Name]! Gosh... I have so many memories from sailing to Mondstadt. Tell me, did you move to Sumeru for your academics?"

It had been so long since you had been back to Mondstadt, having lived in Sumeru throughout your teen years, that the habit of writing it for documents was the bare minimum of what was Mondstadt-like.

"Oh! Yes, I did move here for the Akademiya. Actually, I left the nation so long ago I barely even remember what it was like..."

"Really? Well that's mighty interesting! Hey, you should write that on your first letter! I'm sure your pen pal would love to hear about that little journey!"

"Huh, wait. You're right, that is a good idea... Thanks."

Tilting your head, you laze over the blank piece of paper. The newsletter for the sign up stuffed to the side of the bar table as you glare at the letter.

Sigh, and so the writers block.

Existential dread looms over your head as you glare harder at the letter. Maybe, if you stare long enough at the paper it'll write itself.

It takes you eons to adjust, shifting in your seat as you tune out the sound of clinking dishes in the background. Your pen tapping just over the paper in essence as you try to scour for something to start with. In final, you decide on the simple message of hello and a few follow up questions,

'Hello friend! This is your exchange penpal, [alias]!

Nice to meet you. How are you doing? I hope for your sake you're doing well!

As an ice breaker, here's the basics on me, your pen pal. I am originally from Mondstadt, I'm a scholar, and I work tirelessly because my stupid boss thinks he can shove all his "lesser" work on me! Honestly, I moved from Mondstadt a long while ago to pursue a degree under the Haravatat Darshan... But it's been an upward battle ever since I was recommended (well actually, volen-told) to become the second hand for my department. Sorry, you're going to hear a lot about this boss... Unfortunately, he is a pestering constant in my life. Honestly, this would all be fixed if he was just a bit more understanding... Or maybe even used his annoying voice to communicate! It would be great if you had advice on how to get rid of him. Preferably in a corporate fashion, but I don't expect that at all! But enough about my silly world, who are you?

What do you do pen pal? Where are you from? What is your favorite subject to gloss over? Do you also suffer from daily troubles? Do you have any interest in studies or are you more of a physical person? That's totally cool too!

I'm not sure what else to write, but here's a fun fact? Maybe this can be our little thing!

Did you know, the first ever gear was created out of wood? At some point, a nation decided to use it for windmills and waterwheels. Though Tevyatian history doesn't really define where it originated, I've always considered the true contender as my home town! Mondstadt is so full of breezy winds and windmills it would be hard to think otherwise. '

Yours truly, [alias] :)

Adding on between the lines, your fingers release from the pen, stretching out instinctively before folding the letter, all marked with messy, clearly annoyed handwriting, before bringing the lip of the matching envelope to your tongue.

Carefully sliding the letter into casing, you grin with a thumbs up towards Lambad, who watches you in proud fondness. Returning the thumbs up, you skid the chair back, packing your stuff away quickly as you shove both the letter and the promotion letter into your pockets. Without a second glance back, you skip gleefully towards Katheryne's Adventurer's Guild.

Mid way, in all your excitement from finishing the days work, a part of your shoe catches in an uneven part of the road. In a moment, your whole body tilts, sending you crashing down in surprise.

...

You never touched the ground.

But, when you open your closed eyes, wincing for impact, your faced completely upright.

Not a single bruise nor scratch. Completely standing still as if you hadn't almost made a show out of your clumsy self.

"Oh! Are you alright? I hope you aren't hurt!" a small, child-like giggle.

Where is it coming from? Are you hallucinating?...

Maybe the excitement has gone to your head. Whipping your head around, you see no one. Not a single soul. Only the flickering yellow lamps as they illuminate the path in front of you, highlighting the stupid little dent in the road that had almost tripped you.

But still, not a single person, only a faint giggle that echoes in your ear in a whisper.

Strange...

Rubbing your eyes, you shake your head again. Looking around one more time in awe, trying to adjust your eyes in hopes of seeing whoever- whatever- was speaking to you. It takes seconds as you stand still, scanning your surroundings for any little detail.

Nothing but a small green leaf floats around.

Before long, you're scratching at your eyes again, pulling at your ears just to check if you were dreaming. You weren't, but still, an uneasy nerve sends a shiver down your spine. Urging you quickly to run towards the Adventerer's Guild to submit your letter.

It takes less than a minute to throw your short letter on the pile stacked on the counter. Scurrying off before that creepy child voice comes back and really proves you're crazy.

Stranger yet, the faint image of Alhaitham floats in your head, his blank expression bringing a sort of comforting solace in your head as you mad dash towards your apartment.

LETTER II + III: Personality (or lack thereof?)

When Alhaitham arrives home, the click of the door alerts a certain irritable blonde of his entry. A small tch leaves his lips as Kaveh furiously runs up to him, not a moment to spare between.

"Where have you been?! You took way too long, I almost died of anticipation!"

"Hmph. I was conducting business as usual, you would understand if you knew what it was like to maintain a constant job-"

"Why you! How dare you! You and I both know that I maintain everything in this house day and night!! Oh never mind that- Look, I got the letter for you from that Steambird catalog! Isn't this great?!" His face flushed red from exasperation, Kaveh practically pounces on Alhaitham, flailing the cream envelop, marked with a cute little wax stamp of flowers. Jumping up and down in excitement Kaveh pushes Alhaitham out of the door way. Too impatient to hear his response, instead taking to pushing him down onto the living room coach, shoving the letter into his hands.

"Are you perhaps concussed? It is merely a letter of simple exchange, why exactly are you so impressed Kaveh? Or is it that even bare socialite activities are foreign to you." Sneering playfully, Alhaitham's eyes glint with superiority as he looks at Kaveh, whose leg was practically bouncing in anticipation.

"Just- Why just open it! I want to know all about the unfortunate man-or women, who had to be partnered with you!"

It takes several minutes to settle his room mate down, much to his annoyance. Before ripping the envelope open to read your letter, admittedly, there was a twinge of hopefulness in his heart when the sight of blackened handwriting appeared out of the opening.

...

"Oh, sweet Celestia, they're relatable! And friendly too! Thank goodness for that!" Kaveh sighs in relief, taking the letter out of Alhaitham's hand to read over again at your letter. In his face a smile of childlike wonder as he considered the contents. Somewhere in his mind, he was grateful that the person wasn't some random old man... But rather someone who seemed to relate to his own situation and seemed quite young.

"Wasn't the point of coercing me into this... Silly letter exchange because you wanted me to get to know people and give perspective to my issues? This seems more like your own exchange rather than mine Kaveh." Sighing, Alhaitham yanks back the letter in force, glossing over its contents.

"Huhh?! You are so-... Okay yes- Fine! It was, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy the experience with you. But... Come to think of it, you do need to write a response letter to them. Afterall, they seem friendly enough, and archons forbid you mess up this befriending too because of your pestering cockiness!"

"That is not true- I simply am-"

"Up up up! Shh. I do not trust the likes of you Alhaitham. So, as the most forgiving and kindhearted friend I am, I will help you give them in advice in return! Afterall, an annoying boss is probably not something you can relate to, can you." Snickering to himself, Kaveh quickly whips out a pen and paper, slamming it on the table in triumph.

"It seems like their problems are issues caused by their own neglect of setting boundaries. In fact, I truly believe I could come up with better advice then whatever you may have to offer. It would be so much easier if they would just try to avoid contact with their boss unless necessary."

.

.

.

"I cannot even believe you said that out loud. Never mind, you really do need help."

...

Within two exhausting work nights, an answer comes in the mail. Surprisingly fast for an international event. In anticipation, you rip open the nearly folded envelope, the postal stamp covered, hidden from any snooping. Unfortunately.

‘Hello [alias]. It is a pleasure to meet you.

For the purposes of our little exchange, you may refer to me as “σοφός(Sophós)”. I am not one for small talk, so I’d like to get through these formalities quickly.

As for my current occupation, I am currently an acting... (the hand writing darkens here, almost as if the writer paused to consider before continuing) manager for my workplace. It is rather easy if I may express. Many of the workers that interact with are simple in mind and can for the most part, handle themselves. Leading on, in response to where I am from, I choose to keep that confidential.

After all, did this program not specifically request us to hide or names as to add on to the suspense of interacting with an anonymous person?

It seems you failed to read clearly through the intentions of this program. It is alright however, that is an overlooking on your part which I will look over.

Moving on from this, I particularly enjoy reading long complex books which others cannot understand. I do not hold any preference towards what these novels may contain. However, often I find myself reading on the mechanisms of products more often than others. Privy to your Darshan if I must identify. Reading this, I think you can infer I am someone who enjoys academic knowledge rather than physical prowess. This would be an astute assumption as I am more often than not, researching and accompanied with a piece of literature at all times.

Of all your questions, I did save this for last, as I unfortunately find myself depending on a bit of outside advice. This is much to my own dismay, as I am always a person of rationale.

In the past months, I’ve found a strange phenomenon happening in the region where my heart lies. Whenever I meet with this coworker of mine, just seeing them sends this… Incomprehensible wave of pulses, they are uneven and not the usual beats per minute that my cardiovascular system would sustain.

It is also strange that alongside this symptom, I fail to focus on my perfect nine to five routine. Often, I find myself unwillingly dozing off, abnormal memories haunt me while doing so. Worse yet, these symptoms have also affected my [insert smart word for good brain] as I cannot focus and feel often lightheaded without a sensible pattern of reason why.

Now, it could be that these are physical issues that must be addressed by a professional, but I have reason to believe otherwise. Say [fake name] what is your insight on this dilemma? I would appreciate any thoughts you may have to give.

In appreciation for your counselling as for the spirit of this literary exchange, here is a fact about orthography. Of the undefined origins, researchers have suggested the reason that different nations of Teyvat write from left or right or vice versa could be cause of the material our ancestors once used to write. Example wise, how ink would drip down scrolls, so they needed time to dry. Afterall, our population has always been privy to dextrality. If Inazuman's wrote from right to left, the ink they used would have smudged under their clothes. Thus, leading to the change of writing furthest away to adhere to this problem.

It is a pleasure to work with you,

Signed, σοφός'

Wow, as much as life had taught you not to judge by first impressions, it was quite hard not to.

The letter you had received in turn felt very abnormally. Cocky. In a way, maybe it bothered you a bit more than it should have, but the way 'Sophós' wrote out their letter reminded you of a someone. So incredibly like someone and yet you couldn't put your finger on it.

The way they wrote though, was nonetheless entertaining, it was almost as if they were a shut in. And though judgement was not one of your mottos, it was honestly kind of cute how they seemed stiffened to write to someone. Honestly, it was surprising how it didn't provoke you. Thinking about it, a sudden realization comes to your head-

Aww- how sweet. It seems like your pen pal is inexperienced in the world of sociability. they were struggling with romantic feelings. Boy, was it hilariously dense for someone who seemed very smart.

Of course, it had taken you a moment too to realize what their symptoms were. But, for obvious signs of puppy love it felt so amusing to read about the tea. Heh, even the description of it all was so first love coded. To a tea. All covered under the guise of intelligence and yet your pen pal was reallyyy dense.

It doesn't take long before your quick to cozy up on your bed, a book on your lap as a surface to write on, as you click your pen. Looking down as you scrunch your face in concentration, giggling a little inside. (Maybe the interaction was healing a bit of the teenage girl you had burnt out years ago)

'Dear Sophós,

Wow! It sounds like you've got quite the life. Does it ever get boring? I sure wish I could be there in your position... A nice relaxing managerial job would make me feel so much better. Imagine the benefits! Unless of course, your coworkers are horrible and don't cooperate. But yours do so that's awesome!

Anyways, about your- as you said "cardiovascular" problems and memory issues. Fear not! I think you're just suffering under the common ailment of your "first ever crush"! Which is superr (you had made sure to bolden your words with several exclamation marks) cool! It's of course, nothing to be embarrassed about and it's totally normal!

I won't pry, considering this is all you asked for, but this isn't something you need to go to the doctors about! So don't worry. But crushes like yours have drastic differences in symptoms. I'm guessing yours has just begun to develop? Be careful! This illness can take down even some of the strongest! (a joking winking face follows suit)

If you want advice, I'd say just go with the flow! Do whatever you've been doing up to now, but hey, if this person you're crushing on seems to have flushed cheeks, or maybe suspicious behavior towards you to, that could be a sign of shared liking?

That's honestly all I can say... Not really someone who grew up involved in this! Still, a lot of good advice can be found in Inazuman novels! If you really want to move forward with this, read up on some of the weekly top choices for their romance novels!

Best of luck, just remember, consent is always key! Don't pressure whoever it is, give them space, but show your interest in small gestures! Maybe... like doing stuff for them? It's always nice to receive gestures from people :) whether it be gifts or freed up work!

Your awesome wingman, [alias]'

P.S Fontaine's leisurely otters will hold hands when they sleep so they don't drift off from each other! They also sleep on beds of native marine plants like we do on mattresses.

...

'Greetings [alias],

This is a very peculiar variable to reconsider into my life. Indeed, I fail to distinguish if this... Crush is a benefit for me or a burden. Can it be both? What do you think? On one hand, they motivate me to arrive at this hole of a job, but on the other, they seem to distract me from my duties as a manager of sorts. Perhaps, I could utilize these emotions to do otherwise?... I will have to research into this. It peeves me that a person such as I am struggling with these inexplicable feelings. However, now that I have solved the root of my symptoms, I feel as though I can properly move forward and decide from here.

I appreciate your help [alias]. In return, as for your qualms. Perhaps it would be best to consider that your boss is always going to be a constant. I think it is best to try and not dwell on what you can't fix and instead work on what you can do. For example, refusing to do work outside of the office, perhaps even coming in early to work with other workers to finish the days load.

This is all the advice I could offer, I find it quite difficult to relate to this situation, so I hope this suffices. I know you will be okay, simply try to remain above the average work and get caught up on what you are doing and beyond.

As for a fact, several of the fruits from native nations have been a biproduct of human trading. The revered sweet tangy peaches of Sumeru are actually native to the Liyue region, having been brought over a long time ago.

Much appreciated, σοφός'

Upon receiving the letter, a chuckle escaped your lips. Smiling at the sheer idiocy of the letter, almost dumbfounded at how obviously entrapped your pen pal was with their crush.

Perhaps this program was more interesting than any sort of office life drama.

...

Smiling to yourself at their feigned confidence, it wasn't surprising to you found yourself re-reading the letter you had recieved on the way to the office. (To think a new friend to bother was all it took for you to feel better about yourself)

Maybe staying up late to continuing to write letters back and forth between your pen pal was a stretch, but it did excite you. And the darkening of your eye bags was barely noticeable as your mood brightened by every interaction.

Although it was strange at how quick the mailing was to you still, you had come to terms with the fact that it benefitted you in talking with your new friend.

And of course, you had taken your friends advice very seriously. Out of respect for their help.

Still giddy at the thought of your letters, the clicking of your shoes against the marble rang a warning bell to your coworkers, all at their usual buzz as they stared. Of all mornings, today their whispers seemed even more noticeable to you. All of them murmuring under hushed turned heads about the smile you held walking. A curious comment caught from one conversation to the next, wondering why you were suddenly so cheerful as if your boss wasn't the debby downer Al Haitham.

This time, it didn't bother you at all. Instead, you found yourself even waving at your friendlier coworkers, greeting them happily as if this were a normal morning. Not even the thought of Al Haitham could bring you down from your new friend. The perfect pick me up following your new gigantic paycheck.

Dumbfounded, the gathering Sumerian scholars begin to fade out, returning your warm greetings as they scampered. Better not to ruin your cheery mood they feared. For the past weeks, they had found you abnormally happy, even to meet Alhaitham.

A melody humming from your lips, your fingers fiddle over the corner of the envelope, sealing the precious letter. Finding a giddy joy in a new friend you could console in and gossip with as you march up into Alhaitham's office.

Bursting in, your voice thunders out,

"Hellooo Sumeru! How are you sir? What needs to be done today Alhaitham? Hey,

"Stop. Wait [Name]." Alhaitham stands abruptly from his seat, raising a hand to pause you as you shut up immediately. Eyes widening as you took a deep breath of air.

Almost hesitantly, his hand drops to your shoulder, patting it, weirdly.

(Honestly it felt very nice to have that closure, but he doesn't need to know that)

His hand takes to guiding you to the coach, the one you often found yourself waiting on as he took his time finishing his morning newspaper.

Speaking of which, where was the newspaper? He wasn't laid back in his chair like usually reading it when you walked in, was he?

Plopping you down on the couch oh it's soft AND comfy-

"You... Seem out of it lately. For the past week, I have observed changes in your work behavior."

His voice (but mostly the soft... comfy... cozy couch) really did soothe you away from any argument.

"What is unusual for me is that you have been ahead of even me in our work. Every day I return to this office, I find that another scholar rushes in to give me more paperwork as typically instructed by the higher ups, only to atypically come back within the next day to see all my extra work gone"

Silence rings.

"Rightt...? Well, sorry if it bothered you Hai- Sir. I've been coming in early every morning to finish it. That way I don't have to stay late and you don't have anything to complain- ahem- I mean worry about," a lazy smile spreads across your lips as you drowsily glance up at Alhaitham. (That lack of sleep was hitting now)

His body looms over the back of the coach, broad shoulder bulging a little much as he crosses his arms. Glaring at you with an interested brow.

"Really? Is that so?"

(Something about a man with his muscles and his voice saying that to you did things they shouldn't do)

Every vein across his arms flexed a bit as he shuffled to ask, muscles flexing at every move, defined under the morning light peering from the window behind him. His silver hair reflecting god-like down on you as you continued to lean your head back, pulling into him until he leg was just barely making contact with the back of your head. The bare touch sending a heat towards your head that was utterly suffocating.

Laying like that, you could see the way his Adams apple moved delicately as he breathed, the way his eyes mirrored shades of greens to greys when the shadows moved.

A lazy, serene tension laid thick as thieves between the two of you.

Not uncomfortable you'd like to add, but sweet. As he stared it felt almost as if you could see his eyes shifting. From that stern scolding look, to, as seconds passed; soft, relaxing, worried, a dotting love somewhere in that sea of feigned control.

"Tch. Perhaps it would be wise to consider that work is not a mandatory activity outside of your assigned hours [Name]. Afterall, you just received that promotion bonus, what use is there in overworking yourself more than necessary?"

His voice turns slow, calculating, the same as his eyes when he looks at you, his whole body seemingly turns light as he stares. The way he looks at you now, you could have sworn you had him like honey in your hands.

Carefully, not waiting for your response, he moves to tuck back a piece of your hair that had strayed from the rest.

His fingers again, felt light, but home on your skin as they sent fluttering heat towards everywhere they touched.

Lingering to cup your forehead, and then your cheek, his eyes still watching in absolute infatuation, they fit perfectly against your face. Molding there like they were meant to be.

Gentle, inviting gestures of physical touch.

"As an official assignment as your acting sage, I am asking you to rest here until I return from an errand. Do you understand?"

"Mmm..." It was quite hard to protest when you could barely even find the will to keep your eyes open to look back at him.

Your head drops from it's stretched position, your body snuggling closer into the couch. Your eyes are starting to drift to a close, fluttering shut as his hand combes through your hair. Delicately pulling through where it could and letting go to return to your head. The whole motion setting you up for deep, deep, uncontrollable drowsiness.

By now, the morning sun had risen above Alhaitham's head, it's tender warmth cuddling to you as a blanket of sorts. The whole set up felt almost- no, was perfect for a reenergizing nap.

One that was well deserved you thought..

Blinking in intervals as you felt the warmth of his hands leave briefly. Quietly, a pressure draws over your lap, maybe a blanket? Who could tell.

His hands return to comb through your hair, still sending their tingling heat throughout your body as you murmured.

"Mmm, sleep well... [Name]"

...

Walking back to his desk, Alhaitham finds a sense of calmness eroding away at his pacing heart.

Just watching you stare up at him, doe like eyes following his hands like butterflies to milkweed. The very sight almost brought him to his knees. For a man made of a steel core, he's never once felt the way he did when you stared at him, looking back at him as if he was the only one in the world.

By gods, you made him feel so alive.

The way his heart raced was unlike anything else he's ever felt. The blood rushing to his head and without thinking, he was already reaching out, caressing your cheek gently with one hand, gripping the back of the chair with his other.

Sinfully, he wasn't sure if he could have handled holding the whole of you in both of his hands in that moment. Everything about you made him quake in his shoes, his body always felt so light. The scene replays in his head.

The every aching moment he spent, gripping at the back of the chair, careful not to disturb you, thinking how horrible of a man he had. Where was all his self control now?

All he wanted was to hold you. Grab you by the cheeks, but oh, so carefully, so preciously, because he couldn't ever think of hurting you. Gods no.

In the back of his mind, Alhaitham could only think, in a sliver of his mind, were the archons testing him? Begging in his core, the very urge to kiss you. Shower you in affection, hold you so dearly in his arms as he would feel you melt into him.

You were just so... Much.

The most he ever wanted.

Looking down at his desk, he grabs at the torn open letter, on top, a pinned checklist. Vaguely, the makings of your handwriting lay on top of the smooth paper.

Except, stapled to it, a checklist, small but noticeable in a light green color, written out in his writing.

How to win her over:

-Be consensual, but always remember consent

-Do stuff for her (Possibly lighten her workload?... She has been doing much as of late.)

-Read more romance novels. (A lot of this male love interests seem to give things with meaning, flower language and such. Perhaps a bouquet? Would she even like that?)

Staring at his checklist, he promptly scratched out the third item of the list. A flushing pink spreading throughout his body, palms unusually sweaty as he could feel his body heating up.

Gods, he was smitten. And it was all your fault.

Stuffing the checklist and letter into his pockets, he found himself stomping out, embarrassed at his flushed face. He'd be sure to not meet Kaveh on the way out, the architect would simply make a whole parade of it.

Stumbling out of his office, he miraculously found it in him to resume his stoic face, carefully closing the door as to not wake you.

He looks back one more time as the image of you floats in his head. This time, it comes with a smile.

...

The House of Daena remains to be the sole place Alhaitham finds enjoyable.

Having just walked out, a stack of book carries between his arms, light in his grasps. Before he could rush back to the office however, he finds a blonde (thankfully not Kaveh), a fairy, and Nahida, walking towards him.

"Alhaitham! Hello! How is the Acting Grand Sage doing? Wowee! It's been a while since we've seen you! What'cha up too?"

The voice of the floating little Paimon rapidly approuches, following behind the traveler waves, quiet as ever.

Tailing behind, Lesser Lord Kusanali follows, bumbling with a sweet smile as always.

"Hello Paimon, Traveller, Lesser Lord Kusanali I am more than well thank you. I was on my way back to the office actually. Coincidently, I am not off of work yet as it is still within my work hours. I was simply checking out books for... a coworker." Shifting to his side, he hides the title of his novels pressed to his leg. Carefully trying to keep hidden the titles and clear images of light colors, pictures of illustrated fictional characters holding each other. The titles even more evidence that they were in fact romance novels.

"That sounds wonderful! But please, we're long time friends now! You don't have to call me Lesser Lord. It feels... Well, ehe, unusual for what we've gone through"

"Paimon agrees, you don't have to worry about formalities like that Alhaitham!" Paimon laughs.

"We're all friends here aren't we? Your too stiff sometimes hehe... But! Anyways, those books look interesting. What are they about?" Peeps Nahida, her cheery tone matching exactly the way she looked, Alhaitham thought. Cheery, bright, and decorated with various Sumerian leaves.

His breath hitches, "Hmm. They aren't anything of interest. In fact, they're quite confidential for their intended purposes. Actually, I really must get these back to my coworker."

"Aww... Really? Darn! Well, since you're on your way back to the office, why don't the three of us all come down there with you? It'll be fun to catch up on your life Alhaitham! Maybe we can even say hi to Kaveh on the way!"

A breath of exhaust leaves his lips.

"We won't bother you too much! It would be so very interesting to see what you do Alhaitham" Nahida's voice pops in, traveller nodding along as the two press on. All three of them pushing into him, eyes glowing in curiosity. (Would it be a divine offense to reject a gods request?... Tempting.)

"Prettyy please? Oh grand acting sage sir?"

It seems his work evening would be lasting longer than he assumed. It also didn't seem like the three of them would give in anytime soon. Rather than later, he'd appreciate getting back to you before you woke up and started working again before he could say no.

Out of all his options, unfortunately, it seemed he would have to bring the lot with him.

"Huff, fine. But you have no need to call me grand acting sage. And do be mindful and quiet when you enter. I have a guest in my office who I urgently must tend too."

Before Paimon could open her mouth, Alhaitham made sure to turn quick on his heels and start speed walking towards his office. But even that was not enough to stop Paimon from asking questions of the guest, who it was, and if they were important to him or not.

The poor traveler had to keep holding Paimon back, threatening to eat her as dinner if she didn't hush up.

...

When you woke up, your body well rested, an eerie feeling followed suit.

"Holy shit."

Almost immediately after gaining full conscious, all of what had happened replayed in your mind. Painfully tracing over every single detail.

The way his hands had caressed your face.

Oh, great archons be damned.

Your fingers ran through your hair, pulling at it as you squealed into the nearest pillow. Absolute regret pulsing through your head as you remember how soft he had held you just hours before. Almost choking you in a burning heat that blew up in your face. Over and over you re-imagine it. Tenderly touching your own fingers to the places, he had caressed, longing for strange closeness again.

Footsteps gradually approach the grand doors.

"Shh... Please be wary of your voices. My secretary is asleep in my office as of currently."

The familiar deep voice of Alhaitham's rings out behind the door, muffled but still audible to your ears. The heat burns as fast as your heart's beat.

"Are we bothering them? We can always leave Alhaitham..."

A voice, deeper in tone, yet not one you remember, speaks up. Right as the door creaks open and Alhaitham peers in cautiously. Eyes narrowing in on you.

His stare stills you cold.

"Ah... It appears that she's already woken up. Never mind then, it'll be fine Traveler, come on in you all."

By the sound of his voice, and the slight twitch of his lips, you couldn't tell if he was bothered by the company or if he was enjoying himself.

It was a bit of place, watching as a young blonde man, hair beautifully braided back and adorned with simple clothes walked in, a nervous tap to his steps. Following suit... A very bouncy fairy? And a young girl? Adorably, she pokes her head first by the crack of the door, before seeing you and smiling brightly, feeling confident enough to skip in.

What strange company for Alhaitham. Admittedly, you never once thought to dwell in Alhaitham's personal relationships. You were always so busy finding him hateful and prude to notice if he had any actual connections with people aside from you and the workplace. It was quite the sight to see his assumed friends to be two younger children and a foreigner by the looks of it.

Alhaitham motions for the guests to take a seat on the opposing sides of you. Finding his way over to sit beside the man he called 'Traveler'.

A bit of your heart drops.

The whole couch was empty except for you, the couch he was sitting on with the Traveler was even more cramped then if he had sat with you.

(It's nothing, right? Immature noticing's is all)

"Well, Traveler, Paimon, Lesser Lord- ahem, Nahida, I suppose I should introduce you to my second hand, this is [Name]. An employee personally appointed by the Haravatat Darshan. They have... cough, well, been a great help to me."

"Oooh! Hello [Name]! Wow... Paimon's never heard Alhaitham compliment anyone before! You must be some sort of superhero! Paimon is pleased to meet you!" It takes only a blink for the squeaky fairy to get up in your face, zooming circles around your head as she studies your face curiously, a finger at her lip as she looks.

"I um- Thank you! I try my best really... It's a pleasure to meet you too Paimon. As for you Traveler! Are you the same Traveler everyone else has been gossiping about? Wow... It must be really tiring to travel around the nation like you do!"

"Oh, you don't need to flatter. Thank you, I try. I'm sure you must do a great amount to for Alhaitham. He is well... A very studious worker" Traveler nods, smiling as he turns to Alhaitham. The two sharing a secretive look.

Moments pass on, light conversation flowing between the five of you. The traveler and his friend bombarding you about all that you do. Wondering about your interests in mechanics, curious of your life's story.

Occasionally, the sweet young girl Nahida would butt in, asking about your thoughts the more obscure matters of the latest mechanical developments. 'What do you think of transversal waves Ms. [Name]? Have you ever thought about applying them too...' It surprised you how knowledgeable she was about mechanical waves and even beyond. Deep, thoughtful theories passing between you and her, a common connection you found, was that she often wondered about the makings of mechanical wears. It was nice, pleasant to feel welcomed after the momentary bitterness you felt. (It still lingered, but you found yourself dismissing it as childish.)

Alhaitham and Traveler seemed well content talking amoungst themselves of... Adventures. Something you never once knew about Alhaitham. Never would you have thought he was a man of travelling. Though it was common for Akademiya students to be well-rounded in every field, it left you a bit hollow that this fact had been hidden from you.

As the hour passed, it only grew. The silly backhanded thoughts in your mind. 'Who are they talking about?'.

'I've never knew his break from work was because of the Traveler...'

'Why is it so easy for them to talk to eachother?'

It was hard for you to wrap your head around their conversation. Passing phrases like foreign language to you. How was it they seemed smarter then you? Why did it seem they had known each other forever? What was it about their allure that made them so easy to feel frustrated for?

By the closing second, as much as you tried to listen to Nahida's remarks you could barely stop the way your eyes unwillingly travelled back to the way the two sat with each other. The pressed down cushions beneath them caving in, pushing their bodies towards eachother.

They seemed to know everything about him. More than you had ever gotten to ask him about. They knew about what he did in his free time... The things he hated. The books he reads. Especially the studies he liked talking about.

Why does your stomach feel funny? Your heart just minutes ago was beating far past its average rate, but watching the way Traveler and Alhaitham sat close had dropped it to a cold, fearful low.

An awkward silence passes between the room, your eyes to busy fixating on the way Alhaitham didn't bother to scoot away from the unnerving touch of bare fingertips.

Suddenly it feels a little too real all over again.

You knew this feeling. The dead pit way your stomach felt empty. The way your head felt numb, the way your heart stung. A dark, selfish, want bubbling in the place you held Alhaitham dear.

Being from a school of top-academics, it was expected from all the students to feel the inevitable complex about each other. The one they labelled the "inferiority complex". A hidden part of the system everyone ignored. A deep, pushed down hatred the scholars would often feel.

As successful as your life had been academically, never once had you learned how to deal with it.

The drowning thoughts that took over, telling you that everything you ever strived for wasn't enough.

There are smarter people.

A breath sucks through your teeth.

.

There are people with more awards.

You breath it back out.

.

There are people who have gotten visions, divined and noticed by gods.

Your mind fuzzes.

.

There are people, who are simply just better.

The air feels cold.

.

.

.

In truth, it was never explained to you how to defeat this dragon. This terrifying beast that told you things you knew somewhere in there was wrong.

Your worth shouldn't be compared to different situations.

You knew better.

Your worth isn't determined by the quality of your work.

You wanted to believe.

But every striving student feels the pain of being casted aside. Outshined by another child's brilliance. Their more outstanding grades, their more outstanding test scores, their more outstanding glow.

The Akademiya was no place for the weak minded. Not when there was so much to accomplish and so much more to prove. When put in a palace of the talent, you felt talentless. But it was never like it wasn't your only struggle. Other problems came along, and they fought with you, and they tugged at your heartstring and your mind, but in the end, your value in comparison, your life, and your inferiority were the one thing that stayed constant.

Maybe that was why, when he had shown up in your life for the first time, you found your aged wine, mulled with the crushed fruits bared from your nights of overwork, from what ifs, poured on top of his silky grey hair. Until it eventually soaked him, and all you could do was take of your shoes. Stepping over those same fruits, working over and over, day and night, crushing the new wine, all to pour back on his head.

And yet he still outshined your efforts.

Sitting on top of his throne of amaryllis. Glowing in color, brightening his everlasting superiority.

And yet your dry, mulled fruits, remained sad in color.

Comparison.

A part of you remembers when he had first walked into your life. A blooming young student you were, always outdoing the rest. Your every waking hour was spent on wishing for the wonderful, for true greatness. Ingenius discoveries and more.

But the moment he had taken your seat upon the throne, the fruits below had dimmed in color.

Yes, Alhaitham had always been as glorious as he was now. Everlasting genius he was. He sparked a flame in you to improve, to be better, to never fall behind.

But never once had he taken a notice to you. Never once had you found him talking to you. Instead, the months would pass by, and you would never once catch up again.

Every, single, class and award, he took rightfully his.

Stone cold face peering down at the shining medallions, a scoff upon his perfectly smooth and youthful face, before walking off stage, leaving you to take the ranks of fourth or fifth.

No matter what you did, he never did realize you were a competitor.

Never once did he even congratulate you, even at graduation, when the two of you stood side by side in class photo.

.

.

.

Maybe that's why when you had finally secured the job working for the Grand Sage, you were overjoyed. Even if it wasn't what you had imagined, you had finally made it a step closer to his pedestal.

But when you had introduced yourself, a sunny naive smile dotted on your face, he gave you the same disgusted face he had always given you.

His voice only came in demands from there on.

He didn't remember you. Not at all.

No, he chose to forget you.

...

It had taken you months for him to even remotely warm up to you, and longer days yet for him to talk about himself with you. At some point, the effort became nauseating.

You couldn't stand to even mutter his name.

So perhaps the Traveler was a better person than you were. A smarter person than you. Maybe they were in league with Alhaitham from the very beginning. Maybe to him, he thought the Traveller as someone of his level. A worthy ruler to sit beside his pedestal.

The feeling boils deeper, that sickening feeling of jealousy produced by those fruits of your younger years you had so desperately tried to hide.

(A tear threatens to trickle.)

"Ah... [Name]? Are you alright? You seem out of it right now. Do you feel tired again?" The Traveler notices the shift in your eyes. Your face having dropped a while ago, staring into nothingness.

.

.

.

"Ms. [Name]?..." The green in Nahida's eyes swirl a bit, a nervous worry across her face now, noticing you aren't responding.

"Oh. Sorry. It seems I'm not feeling too well right now Traveller, Nahida. I'm sorry, but it seems like I must leave for the night. It is after my workhours anyhow..." your voice sounds meek in comparison to the Travelers.

"Oh no... That's no good. Would you like one of us to walk you home? Maybe Alhaitham?" Nahida suggests. Oh, bless her sweet heart.

"That... Would not be very professional Nahida. If it is alright, there are matters I must discuss with the Traveler in private."

Again, you notice how there's a glint of catching eyes between the two men.

"Oh, but Paimon doesn't think [Name] should go home this late at night by herself! We spent so long talking it's near night already."

Your gut sinks a little more, embarrassment flooding through your system, "It's fine guys. I can go by myself! My home is just a walks away."

"It's okay! I can go with you [Name]! There is something I'd like to talk to you about too!" Nahida peeps up. Looking at her smile, something about her careful gaze felt almost motherly.

Quite comforting even.

"... Thank you Nahida. Sure, why not." There is no will in you to argue.

After short good byes, you leave, breath hitched as you fight the urge to look back at his silver eyes.

Your sure they must have looked beautiful, as they always had.

...

That night, after plopping down on the couch and thanking Nahida profusely, she thanks you, stating something odd,

"I hope you sleep well [Name]. You seemed troubled earlier. May the Archons watch over you."

Barely enough energy to spare, you find yoursef on the hard wooden floors. Chilling to the touch, but most welcomed compared to the humid weather.

That night, strange memories form dreams, merciless as they plague you.

Flashes of memories of you and Alhaitham, back from the Akademiya days switch from one to the next. Almost in parallel, you'd remember one scene, before a flash of change, to the perspective of someone else.

It was like you were watching yourself from your perspective to an outsiders.

And every time, without a fail, the change would take away Alhaitham. Instead, the outsider would murmur in frustration, low in tone, things you could barely make out. But a longing, desperate feeling, unlike the one you had felt away, would find its way back to the outsider, every time they would look at you.

It was weird.

When you woke, you could barely remember what the strange person narrating was saying. Still, the sun shines, commencing another day of work.

LETTER IV: Ghosting

By the time you arrive at the office, it is still night. The sun barely peeking past the horizon.

Your in no mood to work however. Instead, you take out the crumpled letter paper, rummaging for a pen, and sit down, writing out your thoughts.

'Dear Sophós,

I'd hate to cut welcomes short, I hope as always you are doing well, but I urgently need help.

Do you remember the boss I had talked to you about?

Well, it's been long since he's rude and terrible behavior. It's actually miraculous. Out of nowhere he has been acting all nice and well mannered! Even though it was off putting at first since well... He's never done that ever. It was very sweet and nice. (you pen out a cute drawing of rainbows and sunshine to emphasize). But... Another issue has started.

I feel weird around him.

Not just him specifically, but, when he was meeting a friend, this long standing issue I've had came back.

I started feeling all these horribly sickening emotions. Jealousy is what it was. Just from watching how close the two were. They acted as if they had known each other for years Sophós... Something about it really hurt me to watch. And they talked to each other so easily too! Do you know how frustrating that is? I had wished for that type of bare closeness with him for so long, but for this friend of his, it seemed so easy. So Sophós I really beg, how do I fix this? I know for sure it was caused from something, but I can't pinpoint what from... I know that I have felt it before, back in my Akademiya days, when often the other students would outshine me in my craft, so I know for a fact it isn't romantic possessiveness, but still, the feeling isn't the exact same and I don't understand why it's happening.

Can you help me pen pal?

It's bothering me that such trivial baby feelings are getting to me. I feel lost. Am I jealous because of their friendship? Or is it that maybe I think that friend of my boss's is far superior to me?

With immediacy, [alias]'

...

For days, you couldn't find it in you to confront Alhaitham. You knew for sure he wouldn't have known what he did wrong, but the thought of how he had been so trusting of the Traveler compared to felt to frustrating to confront.

You knew it was childish. But for days you ignored him.

Your own boss, who you had finally learned to enjoy company with, was now back to be strangers with you.

Worse, every day you would find yourself desperately checking the mail, wondering where Sophós response was.

Your only friend outside of your chaotic worklife, out of nowhere, had suddenly disappeared the moment you needed them the most.

Now you were only more frustrated. Spending days trying to ignore your boss and also waiting for your friends response had taken to much of your valuable time.

An aching anxiety stayed conjuring in your body. Surely your penpal hadn't already gotten tired of you right? You couldn't trust yourself to make reasonable decisions without them. You had never taken the time to understand your emotions throughout your schooling, and so maybe you were too dependent on Sophós to advise you.

Still you waited. Spending every waking hour of the job, waiting desperately for help from your friend while nervously dancing around the building, hiding from Alhaitham's calls of your name.

...

Alhaitham hasn't seen your face in days.

He's started to worry a long time ago. And the guilt eats him alive. That night, he had rejected to walk you home as he needed to ask Traveler, despite his ego, what to do about his feelings.

When Nahida had come back to see the Traveler and Paimon as well, he had further buried his high head to ask for help from the archon.

It took him everything to cover his flushed face, bright red as the annoying high-pitched fairy had floated close to his face, asking all sorts of questions about his interest in you. Clearly surprised as if he couldn't hold sentimental connections.

Tch, the nerve of them.

The following weeks though, it seemed you had taken it the wrong way. Moments, he would find you across the hall, having chocolates or flowers he had plucked stuffed in his pocket, wanting to sneak them to you, only for you to run away.

What annoyed him more was, by the second week, it was 100% clear and noticeable to the whole office he was being ghosted by his assistant.

It took him days on end to search for even the slightest sliver of your hair, only for you to find some convenient place to hide. For the life of him, he couldn't understand why you were upset with him.

It had even become noticeable to Kaveh.

By the Friday of the second week Kaveh had appeared at the office, under the guise of some Architectual project to yell at him again.

"You've forgotten your headphones twice now Alhaitham! What is the matter with you lately? By Archons Alhaitham we have mail piling up at home and I'm pretty sure your pen pal is waiting on a response right now!"

"Keep it down won't you. Listen, I have better issues to attend to of late. There are far more important priorities than the pen pal thing." He scoffs in annoyance, looking back down at his checklist and then to the stack of paperwork he had been putting aside.

Trying to find you in the massive building turned out to backfire, spending most of his time occupied by you had put him behind on work he could care less about. What worried him was that you had called in sick that morning. Something that had never happened even once in his term of office.

"Is that... Late papers?!... You-" Kaveh points dramatically, "have missing papers? Now there really is something wrong. Spill it. Now. I have to know what's been throwing off the almighty Alhaitham."

"I can practically hear the sneer dripping off your sentence Kaveh. Don't get too excited. It's just... Well. [Name] has been gone for the past days." His eyes flutter to anywhere else but the obviously dramatic jaw drop Kaveh had on.

"[Name]? Your assistant? Uh oh. What did you do this time? I knew it... You annoyed them to death with your attitude!"

"No- Before you continue, it was not because of me. At least, I don't believe so." His words trail off in doubt, feeling wrong even to him.

"Before you continue yelling in my ear, it happened to be I may have... Made her angry. But I don't know by doing what."

"Well then you've got to figure it out!... I'm tired of having to walk from here and back for the stuff you forgot. It's getting on my nerves! Tell me about the day before she started ignoring you, maybe that'll help your dense head."

...

Upon recounting everything to Kaveh, Alhaitham's guilt had only worsened.

It was not a feeling he was enjoying.

"She obviously was taking the hint you liked her! And then you up and left her to walk herself back?! What is wrong with you?!"

"I- I was talking to the Traveler about her. I would have never thought she could have been jealous from that..."

"Well, she clearly was! If anything, she probably thought, he was competition! You have to go fix this. Now."

"Kaveh, have you not retained any of the information I've given you. I have been trying, but she ignores my attempts to consolidate."

"Well... That sounds like a you problem! You need to figure it out. Maybe even arrange a date and finally confess like a man Alhaitham!"

The bickering between the two of them lasts for an hour before Kaveh stomps angrily out. A semi-conclusion reached as he yells for Alhaitham to get his act together.

"She likes you Alhaitham! So, get your crap together and tell her you feel the same!"

By the time the blonde's angry footsteps stop ringing across the floor Alhaitham feels the stress overflooding all over again.

For a man who prides himself in remaining calm always, even he couldn't cool himself down from the sheer embarrassment at his lack of romantic realization.

You liked him.

And the thought made him an absolute mess. His long fingers crunch around the nearest paper, the other hand folding over the bottom of his face, desperate to cover his bright rosy cheek. Uncharacteristically, he feels nervous.

Memories of your face that day floods into his head again. Dizzying him only further.

How unfortunately timed.

It takes him minutes to calm down, trying to shake your pretty face out of his mind. When it does finally happen, and he feels like he can breath again, his stoic face returns, letting go of the sad papers he had crumpled.

The checklist, still stapled to the letter you wrote, and a managerial essay you had written after surveying a project, all crushed together.

Looking closer, Alhaitham notices the little pictograms between each other line. Both on the professional paper and on the personal letter.

His brow raises, pulling the two items closer, he looks carefully at the writing. Looking at the way their addressed to him. The specific way that both show off similarities. The hand drawn emojis, the tilt in your letters, and the way your mannerisms showed in both of the papers.

Suddenly, he finds himself rushing out of his office, running towards your address. The street number coincidently returning to his memory from the very first day you had applied to be his second hand.

LETTER: INTERCEPTED

Gloom had taken over your body. The longer you spent moping over yourself, the more you felt pathetic and childish for even believing your friend and most (newly) trusted advisor would remain forever. Entertaining the wild possibility, you liked Alhaitham and that had caused all your pent-up jealousy wasn't even worth thinking about now.

Tissues now stuffed your trash, several scrapped up papers detailing letters to Sophós laid crumpled up and piled on the dining table. The pen long lost somewhere in the ground as you slumped over the couch.

Wasn't love supposed to be beautiful? The fabled spell uplifted you and made you feel powerful?

So why was it yours felt so different? For the past weeks you've felt a dry spell in motivation. A drought you've never experienced before, all to be replaced by loneliness. Your own pride eating you up inside as the thought of having apologize for your 'unprofessional behavior' felt like it would simply add on to your despair. Before you can continue sobbing to yourself, thinking about how far you had gone in life just to reach this point-

The doorbell rings.

You stay quiet. Praying that whoever it was would go away.

"[Name]... I can tell you are in there. Your usual shoes are still out here. I- Well, I wanted to talk about what has been going on."

The soothing sound of his voice brought you almost back to frustrated tears. As much as you missed him, a piece of you feels confused.

Still, you walk towards the door, the way you look like a sopping wet cat be damned.

When you open it, carefully, hesitantly, his eyes lock with yours. Just as they always have.

Naturally. Adoringly.

"Would it be wrong to ask if I may come in?"

Your voice seems to lose itself somewhere in the midst of it. Watching the way the sun shines behind his towering body, just as always, showcasing his presence over you.

You shake your head, opening the door wider to let him in. Parts of your head still screaming at you to keep your pride.

For the first time in a long while, you shut down the little girl who learned to be a prideful scholar.

...

An hour goes by, and then a second.

Alhaitham's sittin on the other side of the couch, still the one you are on, but far enough away to give you space to curl up in your blanket. Soft as it pretends to be your shield.

With a deep breath. You speak first.

"I'm sorry."

From there, it all spills. And gods, as flawed as he was, Alhaitham could tell you needed to let it out.

He sat there so patiently, maintaining that fierce eye contact that sent your legs limb as you explained every little detail. Afraid of any miscommunication killing what the two of you had left.

Minute after minute you explain how you had always had a complex over how you compared yourself. Talking out about how you had met him, how he had changed your perspective. How at first you hated him and now... Well. It sort of spilled somewhere in the mix. In some part of the whole messy confession, you had started crying, uncontrollable heart wretched sobs as you apologized profusely over and over. Scared for what he might do, fire you maybe? You wouldn't blame him. If anything, you deserved it for your behavior.

Still he waits. His eyes watch you carefully, watching the tears trickle down your face. The way your cheeks and nose turn red with scratches as you swipe away at the hot tears, stinging at your face.

In the midst of it all, Alhaitham finds himself reaching for the box of tissues placed on your table, handing you several as he sits back down waiting patiently for you to finish your sobbing.

It takes another hour to explain.

He doesn't interrupt at all in that hour. No comforting words, no consoling gestures. Instead he continues to sit, continuing to watch tentatively, which only brings you to tears again as you feel horribly guilty for keeping him waiting.

When there are no more tears to cry, you find that you're met with pure silence.

.

.

.

Then it becomes his turn to explain.

Fear returns when he lifts out the papers, showing them to you as he explains. Scooting in closer to your fetal body as he finds himself wanting to hold you.

In him, a rage boils over, to him, it's disgust. Not a hatred for you, but to him. He feels like he has failed you. For someone who claimed to love you, he certainly had not expressed clearly that he did. And so he continues to explain, taking time to watch how you react. Which, at this point, was barely anything.

Your eyes are swollen from crying and apologizing. He takes care to notice the way your throat seems to have swollen, the way you nod slowly to ensure he knows you're listening.

"I am sorry [Name]. I... Should have consolidated with you instead of being a coward. I was foolish in taking to a pen pal program instead of talking to the real person I cherished- No. The person I love."

Again, he finds himself dropping all the papers. Turning to you. Lifting up your swollen cheeks with both his hands.

"I am sorry."

Your eyes threaten to tear up again, a twitch of your nose as you sniffle. You look at him, facing him as he was, and suddenly, it feels safe again.

The burden of your guilt lifts a little, and though you don't have the voice to say, you launch forward, hugging him tightly.

He feels warm this way. His hands drifting down to around your waist. Their almost... Oddly placed. As if he isn't sure where to hold you.

So, you wrap your arms around his upper back, squeezing him gently as you sniffle into his shirt. The faint smell of books wafting from his clothes. In you, a chuckle escapes, finding the strange scent comforting. He copies the way you hold him. Taking to brush through your hair again. Detangling the long worn locks as he combs through, gently, lovingly.

He takes to laying his back against the couch's arm. Guiding you with as you lay on his chest. Staring up at the barren ceiling.

His hands continue to comb through your hair, stopping every now and then to pat it all back down from friction. His chest rising and slowly back down as you lie.

Slowly, you find yourself breathing alongside him, an occasional hiccup as the two of you lay quietly. Thinking about who knows what, but grateful the same.

He still smells like books, but you notice, a hint of woodland. Then, you notice how his fingers were long and nimble, combing through long sections of your hair with breeze. But the way he felt, lying underneath you, not a word to say more, felt domestic.

It made you feel alive again. It made you feel worth it.

He loved you.

He had said.

And you loved him.

Ever so tenderly, he turns your head up to him, your eyes finding each other's as they always did, so naturally, so full of love and a softness you had now come to realize had always been there. He lifts your face, turning it slightly as his eyes wander over all it's beauty. Archons, to him, you were beautiful.

To him, you were everything he needed.

He doesn't think before it happens.

Kissing you. Lips touching, just and warm and loving as his gaze on you. Sweet, brief.

He holds on, just a bit longer. Biting at your longer lip, nibbling. Pushing in, you return the favor. The taste of iron between the two of you. His arms snaking up behind your shoulders, pulling you down desperately as your legs turn into him, find their way around his hips. Desperately, you let loose for air.

"I love you." He says.

With a new found confidence, your heart beats faster. A grin on your lips as you mouth the same back.

Your lips find their way to his neck.

A groan leaves his mouth.

His legs buckle, hands pulling down your neck.

MEMORY OF AN ARCHON: Finale (will be posted soon)

BARISTA'S INQUIREMENT... hey guys!! merry christmas/happy holidays. I know I've been promising this one for a while and I had originally planned for more Christmassy content but... Life happens. I found myself revising and rushing at the end to post but I do hope everyone enjoys <3, there are a bunch of little secret messages/meanings I hid in here for interpretation! (my inbox is always open for speculation, questions,and discussion about fics!! )

word count. ~ 15k

tag list form !

©lilimalia... Please do not plagiarize, themes are edited by me, reblogs allowed, do not repost on any other platform!!

banner creds: to be added

[zhongrin]

the art of breathing normally

— or, the ways you make him breathless so effortlessly

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, childe, diluc, al haitham, wanderer, kaveh, kaeya

◇ tags ◇ fluff, angst, comfort, spoiler/hint of al haitham's character story 5

◇ a/n ◇ yes the title is taken from that one chapter title in “for better or worse” webtoon hehe i love dillon and cedric so much they’re cute

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

zhongli finds it hard to breathe (in a good way) when you wrap yourself around him in one way or another. you can drape your arms around his waist, nuzzle yourself against his side, or even jump up to koala-hug him (although he will still scold you lightly as he drops everything in his arms in favor to support you - he just doesn’t want you to get hurt.)

but his favorite has to be when you lace your fingers between his own (preferably gloveless) ones, before tightly squeezing, a pressure not enough to hurt but strong enough to leave tingles upon his skin, making the geo markings along his arms pulse and blink in happiness.

he just loves to be reminded and reassured that you’re here. you’re right here in front of him and you are here to stay. you’re here for him with your tender love and warm smile. and you’ll always be here, etched permanently in his heart, the most unyielding stone eroded in remembrance of your beautiful soul.

it was a spontaneous decision on your part when you slip into bed with al haitham and offered to read his book for him out loud instead tonight. he ponders over it for a bit and decides to relent, wanting to know what is it that made you so hooked on hearing him read his books audibly on normal days. your voice fills his senses as he settles onto his pillow, and his lips tug on the corners as you stumble upon difficult terms you’ve never heard before. he decides to show you mercy by telling you the correct pronunciation, and you thank him before continuing, as cheerful as ever, unashamed of your lack of knowledge - it’s one of the things he adores about you, he thinks. this happens several times, and as he relaxes, your lover found his gaze magnetically straying towards you, examining your features as you read.

al haitham’s lungs seizes momentarily when your words falter as you sensed his stare, a patient smile full of such love and adoration blooming on your expression like the freshest bloom of the padisarahs in the garden. a memory lost to time resurfaces in his mind, and he feels himself reliving the hazy scene behind his closed eyelids. he can’t explain it but it feels familiar and nostalgic, yet it’s also foreign and different. when he feels your hand worriedly caressing the stray tear on his cheek, he could only smiles and thinks to himself -

ah. so this is what a peaceful life feels like.

childe’s breath stutters when you kiss his nose or his eyelids. there’s something so adorable and intimate about those two specific places. like a forgotten childhood memory and the intricate vulnerability of allowing himself to be cherished and loved, to know that you won’t ever harm him despite him having his guard down. surprisingly, ajax doesn’t need a lavish display of love despite his repetitively showy endeavors in telling the whole world that you’re his. he’s already content with your soft giggles and tender touches, hidden behind doors and under the blankets in the cold starless sky of snezhnayan winters.

as the trained warrior that he is, he can last a good few minutes underwater, yet one simple kiss from you effectively diminishes his lung capacity, making him gasp and gulp for air, like a fish out of water. he can run for miles and keep his regular breathing pattern, yet a single notion of your well-being put in harm’s way makes his chest constrict and his breath fall into disarray. you’re the bane of his existence and the deity of salvation in his life.

you steal his breath away and with it, a piece of his cracked heart.

as cliche and boring as it was, kaveh’s breath escapes from his lungs whenever you visibly express yourself near him. he’s an empath to the core and he absolutely adores receiving the waves of your emotions like he’s some sentient radio transceiver who’s so attuned to your channel.

you could smile and he would follow, his chest constricting with incomprehensible joy as he drinks the light of happiness like a withered plant that hasn't seen sunlight in days. he loves to listen to your cheerful voice, like your own devoted transcriber, ready to commit your words and etch them into his soft and overwhelmingly big heart.

you could cry and he would bawl with you while holding you close, his lungs seizing with thorny vines that wrap and threaten to crush them to mush with each pearl of tears falling down the puffiness of your eyes. somehow the sight hits him harder than when the realization of his father not coming back hit him, or that time his mother told him she was going to move to fontaine and remarry - oh, it’s so much worse, because he’s holding his entire world in his arms, and he resonates with your bleeding heart.

kaeya would never admit to it but you would notice that his breath hitches whenever you yank his shirt to kiss him. he can try to deny it all he wants, but he finds your assertiveness hot - there’s just something about having you reaffirming how much you can affect him.

it used to irk him, actually - no one should have so much power over him. his life is already crumbling enough as it is, why would he want someone to shake it all up and potentially make it all crash down? and yet, throughout your relationship, he sees you fix the cracks, changes the rusted nails out, and solidifies his foundation. you’re so patient, your touch firm and gentle, and with each fissure healed he finds himself laughing breathlessly… and he lets go of his inhibitions. you can steal his marred heart away, and take his breaths too while you’re at it.

diluc finds his breathing spectacularly failing when your finger brushes against his nape as you help him tie his hair into a high ponytail. he still does not understand why you prefer this hairstyle, but he understands fully that the lack of air in his voice when you worriedly ask if you’ve tugged on his hair too hard is, in actuality, caused by how he wishes he could spend the rest of his life with you. to be with you, just like this, tranquil mornings full of domesticity and love, a replica of the little bits of memories he remembers of his late parents when they thought he was still asleep.

he’s so in love with you, he burns brighter in your presence, and he doesn’t even care if it uses up all the oxygen in his lungs; for he is sure his love for you is an eternal flame not born from the borrowed power of the gods, but from the deepest part of his heart.

wanderer has no need for these two specific atoms chemically bound to form an oxygen molecule that these weak humans seem to need lest they keel over and asphyxiate. and yet he still feels something compressing itself into an ever-consuming black hole within his hollow chest whenever you touch his white wooden skin with the most tender of touches as if he was something to be cherished. as if he was worthy of your presence. as if he was human. as if you truly love him.

ridiculous, he hisses and slaps your hand away every single time. his throat clogs and his lips purse, his vocal chord failing to enunciate how foolish you are, and the feeling got worse when he sees you merely chuckle at his ‘prickliness’.

you touch him again with the same hands five minutes later, and he struggles to squash the urge to smile.

© zhongrin | 2023 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

◇ taglist ◇ @thestarsofenkanomiya | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @herdrops | @diebischesther | @marina-and-the-memes | @angryhope | @mixed-kester | @shuangxo | @fiannee | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ladylofspades | @sup-zfam | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @nachotrash | @algrimmammon | @sassy-cat-in-town

[areislol]

are they an "okokokok" or "lalalala" type of person?

ft— all male characters

warning — just fluff ^^ gn! reader (don't mind the header w the girl)

a/n— i love this trend sm, this is just in my opinion so uhm, yea also this is my take on the "okokok" and "lalala" trend. wrote this in like 50 mins i think cuz i was scrolling through tiktok and all to get some info/ideas.

✧ they're an "okokokok" type of person. (slightly) introverted and calm. they don't mind listening to you rambling, if anything, they love it! if you ever stopped talking because you thought they weren't listening or anything, they would immediately pause what they were doing, their face softening. ✧ they would ask if everything is alright and/or tell you continue. if you don't, they would start with asking what happened after where you stopped and of course, your eyes light up and you continue telling your story, rambling about what happened that day, what you felt and etc.

✧ or, alternatively, you could be rambling about your day, something that happened significantly, and he would be staring lovingly at you, his eyes boring into yours, watching as you talked with your hands... he may or may not have been paying attention to your words, rather, your adorable face—you cheeks began to warm under his intense gaze. and so you stop talking because your brain can't literally function. and he may or may not have teased you about it &lt;3

✧ just because they rather listen to you doesn't mean he doesn't chime in or add comments there and then. he also responds and might even talk more than you, but he still loves to listen to you.

✧ they're logical and serious. never the one to mess around in public (only with you privately). if you ever feel shy to ask for food or anything he's already asking it for you (ugh my heart)

✧ he's exceedingly chill. could care less about other people OR care about them but only thing for sure is that he cares about you more.

— AL HAITHAM, wanderer, thoma, gorou, XIAO, heizou, DAINSLEIF, tighnari, diluc, kazuha, kaeya.

✧ they're a "lalalala" type of person. they LOVE rambling everyday, there is not a day where they don't ramble to you. they're extroverted and have a bubbly personality. they can account many stories to you.. maybe even for a bedtime story!

✧ but being a "lalala" type of person, talking a lot, means that you don't have the time to kiss them </3 i see them as being indecisive and silly. he gets so anxious (or not/slightly) when he doesn't have anyone to talk to like he NEEDS you.

✧ he's your "lalala" to your "okokok"/"lalala", you two are like THE duo!!!! although they do speak more than listening, he will always be there to listen and help you through your hard times!!! their first thoughts is to make you laugh, of course.

✧ just like the "okokok" type of person, if you're too shy to ask for food or something that you really like he's already up and going to the counter AND getting what you want :))

✧ they overthink everything like!! 24/7!! and may be a hopeless romantic!!! i can see them being very caring and loving <33 rambles about anything you could possibly imagine.

— VENTI, aether, cyno (he be telling jokes n everything ALL DAY LONG), kaveh, ITTO, baizhu (?), childe

✧ they're both "okokok" and "lalala" they're serious yet can be silly as well. they love talking about their hobbies or just overall yet still listen to your rambling as well, with much attention.

✧ they can be logical, or not. they can choose what to be depending on the situation honestly. like he can be "okokok" to extroverted people and be "lalala" towards introverted people just to get them going you know?

✧ it can go both ways. him talking about whatever and you listening intensively OR you talking and him listening to YOU intensively. you two are two missing pieces in a puzzle piece &lt;3

— ZHONGLI, ayato, albedo

[penelopeswifey]

characters: THE GANG 🔥🔥

THE GANG 🔥🔥:

Y/N: A streamer with an average following, streams calming games but sometimes would switch up to horror games, enjoys reacting to videos too and adding commentary, that's how you got so popular in the first place. You did NOT hold back on your comments in all the videos you watched. Famous too for ranking idols and always placing Balladeer at last.

YOIMIYA: A pyrotechnic fanatic, owns a small shop selling fireworks and other explosives! Streams on her free time too, her streams usually consist of talking about pyrotechnics or daily vlogs. Sometimes, She actually streams her using and trying out the fireworks. Been friends with Y/N since high school.. super energetic and someone you can always rely on.

AYAKA: Your friend from highschool aswell, very.. very rich. She is part of the Kamisato Family which owns numerous businesses, she works as a Public Relation Specialist but also indulges in swordsmanship, when she's free she would teach you how to hold and use the sword which your not really good at.. not in social media alot, but a very kind person.

KAVEH: Friend you met at a old part time job, seeing him walk in stressed always amused you. He's a student majoring in Architecture in the famous, prestigious Sumeru Academia. You rarely see him due to his busy schedule anymore but when you do it's always a party. He's fun to be around, but 90% of the time is him complaining about his roommate. Which is still fun to hear!

AL HAITHAM: Very smart guy you met through Kaveh, he is kavehs infamous roommate where you have heard many stories about. He is a scholar in the prestigious Sumeru Academia who's studying Theoretical Phylosophy, Seeing him and Kaveh argue is very entertaining to you. You run to him whenever you don't understand a concept since he seems to always understand any topic given to him ..

HU TAO: Your childhood best friend who's also a streamer, she's notorious for her ghost hunting videos which is usually just her illegally trespassing.. she is also the owner of WangSheng funeral parlor and constantly on the look for clients. Which is why in most of her streams at the most random time she'd start promoting her business. Chaotic but very fun to be around, always escapes the police somehow.

ACCIDENTALLY YOURS !

SYNOPSIS: You, a well-known streamer, have always kept your two hobbies separate. By day, you entertain thousands with your snarky commentary, but by night, you secretly write. fanfiction about your favorite idol, Balladeer. It was a guilty pleasure—until a late-night stream led to a slip of the tongue and exposed your secret to the world!

In a single moment of poor judgment and a misclick, which by the way was totally not your fault!.. I think.. clips and memes about you spread like wildfire! It was embarrassing enough for everyone to know about your fanfiction, but it spiraled down even further when they discovered you were writing about the very idol you  constantly claimed was overrated.

Just as you wallowed in self-pity, a notification pings on your phone. A familiar username and a blue checkmark.

Oh.

taglist

@kaeuri @kazumiku @kyouzki @skyoverkill1 @eternallykira-143 @lalalaloveallmydays @simonisferal

[marlin-blue]

i like how you don't really understand or see alhaitham in his entirety until you get to kaveh's lore. the archon quests and his character stories paint a seemingly complete picture of him, and you think that's what he is, that's all he is, until you see him through kaveh's eyes. until you see him through kaveh's stories, until you understand kaveh himself and see /him/ through haitham's eyes, and then suddenly there's a whole other side of the picture. i also LOVE that kaveh himself is blind to this side, despite being possibly the only person its ever been bared to. he'll paint this whole new color into haitham, and then selectively become entirely blind to it. unable to comprehend the truth that's glaring him in the face because he is so convinced he does not deserve it.

just. god. the mirrors theme between them is SO well executed !!!

[idyllic-affections]

Hello! I saw your works of what Kaveh and Cyno would be like as parents... That leaves me thinking of Al-haitham as a father. Would him take his child to his grandmother? Would he read them advanced physics books? (⁠´⁠°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥⁠ω⁠°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥⁠｀⁠)

scholarly lineage.

summary. what would alhaitham be like as a father?

trigger & content warnings. brief hypothetical mentions of assault in general, can be interpreted as s/a, but is not explicitly stated to be that way. sensory overload mentions. spoilers for alhaitham's character stories.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff. dad!alhaitham & reader. 0.7k words. they/them pronouns for reader. in this fic, alhaitham and the reader are both written as neurodivergent in some way; interpret it however you please!

author's thoughts. OUGDHSJGSJSG wait this is so cute. dad alhaitham..... it is such a cool thought, because with alhaitham, i don't think there's any obvious or "correct" way to write him as a dad. he could be overprotective. he could be very casual, the "cool dad" if you will. also i know i haven't been posting as much recently! it's literally only because i've been hyperfixating on hsr... whoops. /lh

alhaitham as a father is a very interesting concept to me. now, believe it or not, i feel like he is a less strict father than cyno. he's actually relatively laid-back.

alhaitham is the kind of guy who raises his child to be smart. he raises them to play the game, not to be played by it, you know? therefore, he believes in his child's judgement and their ability to make wise decisions. he feels no need to be protective over them.

(however... that does not mean someone could do something harmful to them and get away with it. if anyone does anything to hurt them? abuses them? verbally, physically, or worse? good lord, he does not take well to that. he is a man with power, and by the gods, he'll use it if he has to in their defense.)

if his child has sensory issues, alhaitham is very attentive to those things and will get them any and all needed accommodations. if they struggle with auditory sensory issues where they get easily overwhelmed? they'll have ear pieces that match his. <3

when people point it out, depending on who they are, they will get one of two responses; either him very blatantly admitting that yes, their headset matches his, or him getting a little embarrassed and claiming it was all he had on hand at the moment. liar. /lh

it's kaveh that gets the latter response, of course.

if they ever happen to get annoyed with their father in their moments of overwhelm, he doesn't take it personally at all. sensory overload will do that to a person. he gets it, tbh.

i think alhaitham would definitely want his kid to attend the akademiya. ideally, haravatat, but he supposes he'd be okay if they enrolled in a different darshan. he'll recover...

UNLESS they enroll in kshahrewar. alhaitham would NEVER recover from a betrayal of that magnitude!! however, his grandmother herself was from kshahrewar, so... well. he'd get over it, he guesses. he'd still prefer if they enrolled in haravatat.

whatever darshan they enroll in honestly doesn't matter, though, because if anyone gives them trouble for any reason? all alhaitham has to do is give the problematic person a single look and suddenly the issue is resolved! apparently people think he's scary. not that he minds. he likes it that way; it keeps trouble away from both him and his child.

of course, he won't intervene unless they specifically seek out his help, because he knows his kid can handle themselves. still, he pulls a few strings behind the scenes every now and then. he doesn't really want to see his kid struggle. he knows they're intelligent, and he also knows he doesn't have to worry about them not wanting to work for themselves. therefore, he sees no reason to let them struggle needlessly.

he'd also understand if they weren't too big a fan of being surrounded by so many people. he isn't fond of it, either, so he'd let them stay in his office whenever needed. he'll even invite them to do their classwork in there rather than anywhere else in the akademiya, simply so that they don't have to be around a bunch of random people they couldn't possibly be less interested in.

alhaitham definitely read his kid very difficult books when they were little, which would totally lead to them being ahead of their peers. that really wouldn't be unexpected, i think. they probably enrolled in the akademiya a little early.

you know that "i know you don't know any astronomical pretentious voluminous colossal words" audio? yeah, that was alhaitham's kid when they were small.

also, yes, alhaitham would absolutely take them to his grandmother!! i think she would see their father in them, just like how she saw alhaitham's parents in him. of course, this is before her death.

i think alhaitham would ultimately be content that his child got to meet the woman who raised him.

to think that she saw himself in them...

it brings him an odd sense of pride and comfort.

and as a little treat:

kaveh is kind of like another dad (or like a wine uncle LMAO) for them. do what you will with this information.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

[raazberry]

i have so many strong feelings abt kaveh i need hyv to release him from their basement already

[enden-k]

You're so real for wanting to kidnap faves from gensh and just leave. I'm still only hanging around because me and my sis like to run around while we chat and there just isn't an alternative for us (well, for me, I don't have a strong enough system for other games like that). And well, I'm there also for sumeru crumbs, the best region, genshin peaked with sumeru

i prob would still check in every now and then if i had reasons (some former friends and i grew apart/most lost interest too and my other friend is also quite busy like me so theres no chance to coop) and if paimon wouldnt exist bc she genuinely just tires me out i just cant anymore.

theres a bunch of characters i rlly love (haitham, wrio, wanderer, the harbingers, sumeru cast, etc) so mentally im jsut yoinking them and keep them safe somewhere else LMAO.

sumeru had its flaws and problems too but yes, i liked the story, environment, music etc the most so its my fav as well

[4giorno]

alrighty! congrats al haitham for having the best character demo

[hulhudhonado]

Right Person, Wrong Letter

Synopsis: Cyno and Traveller came across some letters during an expedition and Al Haitham basically annoyed about the contents of it.

CW: Slight Angst, Death of Characters, Mention of suicide

HC: Reader is gender-neutral, Reader does not have a vision, Al Haitham was King Deshret in the past

Characters: Al Haitham, Kaveh, Nahida, King Deshret, Mentions of Goddess of Flowers, Cyno and Traveller.

Note: Does anyone else know about the reincarnation theory? I think it's pretty intriguing and I am definitely going to use that as a plot point to make angst. It's what the people deserve. I decided to change things up a bit and put in a small description of what's to come. There is a lot of reading in this one, like a slow burn kind of feeling because I love putting lore into reader x character stories. Also this is after Nahida's archon and story quest, so there will be some spoilers. Enjoy.

The current feeling Al Haitham was experiencing was irritation and he was certain it was because of the papers that lay orderly on the table in front of him. It was a series of letters, extracted from one of King Deshret's reserves. They were in envelopes completely sealed with only slight discoloration on the paper. Many would think the contents of these letters would be extraordinary, especially since they were so well preserved, but to Al Haitham's disappointment, it was far from a discovery.

They were love letters and minimal ones at that. One requested a walk alongside the desert city and another insisted to go to the festival held by the Goddess of Flowers for Sumeru's Archon. Al Haitham sighed, looking through each letter carefully. At first, he thought maybe it was a secret code that he needed to decipher, but to his dismay, it was not. Just ordinary love letters, which embarrassingly seemed to be written by the King himself.

"Of course, Cyno would be the one to give me something so useless." He mumbled to himself, recounting the time when Cyno and the Traveller had dropped by his house at 3 in the morning just to hand him the letters. They were lucky he was reading at the time, otherwise, they would have been standing on the front porch until sunrise. However, now he regrets it, realizing he wasted hours of his night on this. He shouldn't have stayed up.

Almost mockingly, Kaveh entered the room, yawning as if he was just woken up from the best sleep known to man. The man yelped, seeing Al Haitham awake sitting on the living room sofa with papers laid out everywhere and a fierce look in his eyes. "You know it wouldn't hurt to make some noise when you're working, I thought you were a criminal." Al Haitham huffed, not bothered to retort at the moment. This intrigued Kaveh, who decided to prod more.

"What got you so grumpy on such a lovely day?" He asked, walking towards the papers to take a peak. Al Haitham leaned back in his chair with another huff. "Letters found in of one King Deshret's reserves. I made the mistake of thinking it might be useful." Kaveh picked one up, reading the texts and irking an eyebrow. "And you're certain it's his?"

Al Haitham gave Kaveh an annoyed glare. "Of course, the handwriting matches almost all his other official documents." Kaveh hummed, a confused look on his face, he turned the paper around, trying to look for something. Now it was Al Haitham's turn to raise an eyebrow. "What?"

"Is there no indication as to who it was written for?" Al Haitham sat up a bit. "What?" "Well, the letters had to be written for someone, but looking at it, it seems he never sent out these letters. Not only that, he wrote a bunch of them, no signs they were opened until now." Kaveh wasn't wrong, there was no sign of an address or the recipient addressed onto the letters.

Kaveh put down the letter, stretching himself before making his way to the kitchen. "What a shame, poor guy never got to tell that person how he felt. " The irritated feeling in Al Haitham's chest began to grow and for once his usual poker face was gifted with a frown.

He didn't like not knowing something.

---

Al Haitham didn't know what he was achieving by doing this. Requesting an audience with the archon just to find out about a lost king's love life? It sounded embarrassing even to say. However he needed to scratch the itch that was in his brain, he needed to know why King Deshret had never sent out these letters. Or even if he did send one, where he could find a reply to the letter. Al Haitham didn't like doing useless things, but at the same time, he disliked not knowing something in its entirety.

Nahida had greeted him, to which he responded with a bow. After giving a detailed summary of the situation, he held out the letters to Nahida. She took them, awing at the number of letters. "Wow, that's quite a lot." He nodded. "Yeah, I'm certain he must have at least sent one. Maybe he even got a response. But I cannot find anything else."

"Have you asked the people who gave you the letters in the first place whether there was anymore?" Al Haitham nodded. He requested the Traveller to once more check the ruins for any signs of letters which the Traveller kindly obliged to. However, there was nothing it seemed. Al Haitham didn't like that outcome.

Nahida nodded, also intrigued. "I do not remember anything of that sort, but I can check the Iriminsul tree's records to see if there is anything related to this." She said, gesturing to the overflowing of letters in her hand. "I would appreciate that."

Al Haitham stood to a side waiting with crossed arms. It only took a couple of minutes but Al Haitham could feel his patience wearing out. Why was he so obsessed with finding out? He wasn't sure and somehow that irked him more. He wanted to just get this over with.

"Found something." Al Haitham could feel his entire body react, alerting himself to carefully listen to the results. Nahida displayed a glimpse of a memory, it almost looked like a puppet show. She began to speak as the memory played out. "King Dhesret had sent multiple letters over his lifetime so it was a bit difficult to go through, but there was one particular instance where he went to deliver a letter. This was the only record that stood out to me."

The puppet show depicted King Dhesret, making his way through the desert until he reached a city, extending his hand with a letter in it to an individual. The individual did not have any distinguishing features, and before anything else could happen the memory faded into Nahida's palm. Nahida extended her hand, which Al Haitham accepted.

She placed a little orb in his palm before backing away. "I found records of the location. I put it into that form so it's easier for you to access. You might find the letter there." Al Haitham looked down at his hand, before gripping the orb tightly between his fingers and palm. "I'm thankful for your assistance my archon."

Nahida smiled at him. "I hope you find what you are looking for. Good luck."

---

It was no surprise the location was that of an abandoned city in the desert. Houses were broken down and sand piled inside, the definition of a ghost town. Al Haitham frowned, it would have been annoying if thieves had come around and taken any records here. He just hoped that the letter wasn't valuable enough to be taken.

He followed the instructions displayed by the orb, following into a small brick house, almost the same as any of the other houses. He looked around. It was a pretty humble house, maybe a family of three could have lived here in the past. He was certain the place was given to the ancestors to the individual who received the letter because even when the house was abandoned, it looked like it was lived in pretty well.

Children's drawings were scattered on the walls. There were marble sets and broken game pieces in the sand. Three beds with no mattress and chair pieces were broken and scattered around the place. A hearth in the center of the room was covered in soot due to the number of times it had been used.

However no sign of where a letter could be placed. There were no cupboards or chests around intact. No scrolls or hidden compartments he could see. "This whole trip has been a waste of my time." Al Haitham grumbled to himself. The usual him would have just made his way out, but to his surprise, he began to dig. He dug out corners, near the hearth, beside the games. There must have been something. He didn't want this stupid trip to be a waste.

He finally dug beneath one of the bed frames, which lead to the discovery of a box. A small tin box that was used to hold cookies or treats for children. Al Haitham sat down on the sand, opening the tin to see what was inside.

He found a letter. The name written on the front seemed familiar to him, almost on the tip of his tongue, but it wasn't a name found in any of his research. He took out the letter, gently opening it, trying not to damage the envelope. He could tell the letter was taken care of and he didn't want to deal with any of the scholars lecturing him for damaging historical documents.

The letter inside had seen better days. It was discolored and wrinkled. It was as if someone had crumpled the paper and then tried to straighten it out. The fold between the pages was forming tears and the paper was warped. Al Haitham tried his best to gently open it to read its contents.

---

"My dear friend,

I apologize for the sudden letter, I couldn't bare to tell you this by myself so I hope you will forgive me someday.

I cannot spare you any details of what is going on, but I want to inform you that I will no longer be present in the world by the time you opened and read this letter.

I have done something that caused the lives of my friends and my citizens and I need to make things right.

Thank you for everything you have done for me and I hope you live a happy life with your family.

Your friend,

Deshret."

---

It was a suicide note. Contrasting to any of the letters he had written, this wasn't a love letter. King Dhesret wrote a final letter to this person as a friend, completely hiding away the fact he was ever in love with them.

Al Haitham wondered what he was feeling right now. Rage? Disappointment? He wasn't sure, but either way, he had to drop the letter on the ground before he decided it needed to be ripped apart.

He couldn't believe he had spent almost an entire two days trying to uncover this, only to find out the letter that the king had ever sent was a suicide note to the so-called person he loved. At this point, he decided he was done. Gathering the letter back into its box, he began to make his way back home.

---

The last thing he needed to do was get rid of the letters, meaning give them to the Akademiya Archives for safekeeping. He was satisfied, finally being able to get rid of these letters.

He made his way into the library and saw someone near the desk, head down, reading papers scattered around. You were so distracted with what you were reading you didn't even see him enter and hover over you.

A slight cough made you jolt, making you look up at Al Haitham. He had a poker face on and you could feel your face brighten up. You were not prepared to take off the current acting grand sage. You began to speak, trying not to jumble your words.

"OH! Sir! How can I assist you?" You laugh sheepishly, trying to hide your sudden shyness. He placed the letters on the desk without acknowledging your awkwardness. "We found some records written by King Dhesret. I do not think it's important but the Akademiya would say otherwise." You awe at the letters. You quickly put away the research papers you were reading and began to open the letters one by one, displaying them on your desk.

"Oh my! They are love letters!" You could feel yourself blush, you wondered if King Dhesret might have been rolling in his grave knowing these would be permanently displayed in Sumeru's history after this. "If that is all you need I'll be on my way." Al Haitham began to turn around. "Oh no please wait!" Al Haitham turned back and you felt yourself shrink as he scowled at you.

"I'm sorry but, I will still need you around. Since you're the one who brought these in I will need to ask questions to prepare the article when presenting these in the archives. A description of what they were and what was discovered from them. I'll try my best to make it quick." You wondered if you had spoken so fast ever in your life. However, you knew Al Haitham was not a patient man when he had to do things he deemed unimportant.

Al Haitham on the other end was tired. He had not slept properly in days trying to piece why the letters were irritating him so much. Even after discovering the final letter, he still felt like he had failed a mission. He wanted to get rid of the letters and get over it but instead, he sighed, dragging a chair near to your desk and sitting across from you. He watched your face of worry turned into a smile.

As he sat closer to you, his eyes caught on the nameplate on your desk. Your name matched the name of the person King Dhesret had sent the letter. No wonder he thought it sounded familiar.

"Is something wrong Acting Grand Sage?" You ask. Al Haitham shook his head. "No. Also, don't call me that. Al Haitham is fine." He crossed his arms and you responded with a meek nod, before going back into the letters.

"Right, so let me ask some questions. Any noticeable things you discovered when researching these letters?" Al Haitham shook his head once more, he felt like he would end up doing this the entire talk. "No, only the fact that King Dhesret might have been a coward it seems." You note everything he said down.

As he continued to shake his head and answer your questions, he watched your eyebrows furrow, almost in frustration. He looked amused, wondering if he was pissing you off. You finally broke, when Al Haitham decided to diss the King once more.

"I'm sorry if I might be going out of the line here, but, do you perhaps think this discovery was a waste of time?" Al Haitham scoffed, he usually kept a poker face, barely showing any emotion in his words, but he couldn't keep up appearances when he was this tired. However, it didn't change his honesty. "Yes." "Can you elaborate on why?"

Al Haitham raised an eyebrow. "The letters don't provide much for the history-" You cut him off, which did surprise him a bit. "I beg to differ. The letters themselves don't help the general history of his rule as the King of the desert, but it does give insight into him as a person."

Al Haitham wanted to say something, but you continued to speak and for once, Al Haitham wanted to listen. "For starters, all these letters are considered love letters but the requests he suggests are so, simple, almost as if he was trying not to make it obvious. It's clear to us since he never made requests like this via letter before. He was known for being confident and rebellious. But the person writing these letters was too shy to say it out loud." You point out certain lines in the letters.

"Next, almost everyone was certain he was only enamored by the Goddess of flowers, especially since they ruled together. But then we see the letters, addressing someone who isn't her. Some of the letters even suggest that she might have encouraged him to write it out. Such as the flower petals and their imprints you can see on some of the letters. " Al Haitham watched you trace over the patterns on the letter. He assumed they were just slight discoloration, but closely looking into them he could see the flower petals of a padisarah flower carefully imprinting the letter.

"Finally, how well the letters were preserved. Something must have held him back from sending them, but it seemed that he always planned on sending them at one point. He could have easily thrown or torn these apart, but something about these letters was important to him. It expressed something that he wanted to say so badly but something prevented him from saying it." He watched as you pulled out the letter King Dhesret actually had the courage to send.

He watched as you gently opened it, a slight smile falling on your face. You catch yourself before turning a shade of red. "Sorry, I just noticed how our names matched, it almost felt like King Dhesret sent this letter to me." You giggled and Al Haitham frowned, the thought kind of annoyed him.

You cough, noticing his frown, shifting your eyes away back to the letter. "Anyway, this letter proves why he never sent the rest. The recipient had a family. Maybe he was too late, or maybe they didn't have a choice but to start one. This was during a time forbidden knowledge was affecting the citizens. They both couldn't make time for each other because of it, leading them to live different lives."

Al Haitham watched you look down at the letter, a bittersweet smile on your face. He didn't enjoy how that looked on your face. You began to speak once more. "Are you familiar with the term 'Right person, wrong time'? It's a pretty common trope in romance novels." "I don't read romance novels." You let out a light laugh and Al Haitham had to catch himself from thinking that the laugh suited you more than the sad smile on your face.

"Of course you wouldn't, I am not surprised. However, I think this is a clear example of it. It's very clear that the recipient cared for him to such an extent." Al Haitham cocked his head to a side, a gesture implying 'Why do you think so?'. You continued. "The state of this letter pretty much shows it. First, it was crumpled, probably out of anger. But then it was straightened out carefully and placed into the envelope. You could also see how much it was folded, almost as if they kept it around and opened it constantly over time. The warped paper also indicates that it had got wet, probably from tears."

Al Haitham watched as you carefully point out all of it. He wondered why he felt so jealous of a stupid letter, the way you held it so gently, almost as if the letter was written for you. He hated it.

"They probably felt the same way or something similar. Too bad he never sent the rest. Something could have happened if he did." You sighed, folding the letter gently before placing it back in its envelope.

You finally caught yourself, realizing how much you had been rambling at the time. You felt yourself turn red once more. "But you already knew about all this! I'm so sorry for going on a tangent!" You mumble out, trying to hide your embarrassment.

Al Haitham sighed, making you feel like you were hit in the face by a bat. The grand sage was known for being ruthless and you didn't want to be on his bad side. Imagine your surprise when he finally decided to speak up. "No, it's fine. I suppose I was not thinking thoroughly. I apologize for downplaying this discovery." You blink in shock.

Al Haitham stood up. "I suppose we are done now?" You nod, tongue-tied and unsure how to respond. "Then I'll be on my way. Thank you for taking care of that." He began to turn and make his way to the door. He stopped near the entrance, turning once more to face you, who still haven't taken your eyes off him. "I might come around another time. It seems your insight into certain topics has intrigued me." With that, he made his way out of the door.

---

On the way out, he met Nahida, who set at the railings of the stairs, looking out at the view. He didn't know why, but he made his way toward her.

"Did you find what you needed?" She asked, acknowledging him approaching her. "It seems so."

"Are you satisfied?" He thought about it. "No not really. I still think he was a coward. " Nahida let out a laugh.

"Do you want to change that?" Al Haitham raised an eyebrow, confused about what that could mean. "I'm sorry my archon, I don't seem to understand."

"If perhaps you were King Dhesret, would you want to change how it ended?" She asked, rephrasing her question. Al Haitham still didn't understand what she could be implying but decided to answer anyway. " I would be nothing like him."

Nahida hummed in approval. "I see I see. I wish you good luck then." She looked at him and smiled. She dropped down next to him and waved him goodbye. Al Haitham gave a bow, before watching her enter the Akademiya Archives, where you were currently working.

Maybe it was the sleep deprivation but he thought about how happy you looked when you saw the letter had your name and how much it irritated him. Al Haitham didn't know why, but he felt like writing a letter. He shook his head, making his way back to his house.

He just hoped whatever he did write didn't end up in the archives in the future. Especially since he planned on inviting you out very soon. He picked out some flowers on the way, hoping you would like them. It seems like he wasn't going to get any sleep anytime soon.

[zhongrin]

501 sys̵̜͌tǝm¿eŗ̴̦̗͑̈rọ̷̭̆̑̕̚͝Ȑ̶̨̅̾̔͊r̸͎̜̱̀̚r̴̰̖̪̯̯͛̈́͒̅r̵̨̢͎̣͖̻̜̙̣̦̦͉̝̣̦̯͎̙͓̹̤͈̦̼̺͇͂̅̔̆̋̈́̈͛̃ɹ̷̗̟͒̊̓͋r̵̙̟͇̝̾̆ͅR̷͍̙̺̯̽̔͑̿̂ͅr̸̲̫͖͓͒̋r̵̼̳͉̻̎̿͌́͘ɹ̶̛̤̹̪̪͍̅̽ᴚ̶̛͎̖͖̀̅̒ͅɹ̵̥͉̭͇̅ͅɹ̶̢͎̥̩̟̀

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, tighnari, cyno, al haitham

◇ tags ◇ yandere!character, implied slight yandere!reader (al haitham), petnames (my love, dear - zhongli), spoiler for cyno’s story quest (tighnari)

◇ a/n ◇ @abyssmal-skies psy you probably already forgot this prompt but this is still your fault just so you know-

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

your lover might have used a knowledge capsule containing unknown information - but hey, what’s the worst that could happen, right?

... right?

“how peculiar,” zhongli comments as he inspects the capsule’s chassis, the greenish glow making his eyes darken into a brownish shade, “you said this contained information about a prophecy of a future disaster that is foreseen to befall liyue?”

if there’s anything you can confidently say about your lover in certainty, it’s the love he holds for the nation he creates. and so, when you stumble upon the seller, as shady looking as she was, you couldn’t just walk away.

“that’s what the merchant said,” you say, fingers twisting in worry, “i did think it was a scam, but i mean - sumeru is the land of the god of wisdom, and these are lord kusanali's inventions. though there’s a chance that it’s not going to be useful, there’s also a chance that whatever is in that capsule would still be beneficial, at least?”

“hmm. well, it is right of you to worry. however, i do agree. gaining more knowledge is, more often than not, a good thing. besides, seeing as you’ve paid for the item, it would be a waste to not use it. i see no harm in perusing it as intended, but just in case, let me do it first.”

the akasha terminal glows as he connects with the capsule, amber eyes closing, his brows furrowing in concentration as the information transferred directly onto his mind. the whole process barely lasts for five seconds, but you wait anxiously and inches closer to your lover as his eyes open-

“….. zhongli?”

he blinks once, slowly, as if he has to clear his mind out from a daze before he turns towards you. the same gentle smile spreads on his lips, yet you can’t help but feel that something is… amiss.

and then you realize his gloved fingers are locked onto your wrists in a vicelike grip.

“dear, you were right.”

“huh?! wait, is a disaster really going to befall liyue?! that’s bad, we should inform the qixing-”

“there is no need for that.”

“huh? what do you-”

“as long as you’re safe, it doesn’t matter. now, let’s forget about the insignificant things. are we not on a vacation? you said you wanted to see sumeru’s local products, yes? i believe there is a marketplace called the grand bazaar-”

as he leads you toward the direction of the bustling street, you stare at him in confusion. he looks and acts just as loving as your beloved, and yet this can’t be the same man that you know - your zhongli would have put liyue as his first priority.

“wait. wait, please - what… what was in that capsule?! we have to go back to that merchant! something’s clearly wrong-”

“nothing’s wrong, dear.”

the hold he has around your wrist tightens, nails (talons?) digging into your skin, and your eyes water in both pain and panic at this point.

your zhongli would have never hurt you like this.

“no! you-you’re scaring me! let go of me!” you try to jerk your arm away to escape from his grasp, but the effort you put in merely makes him sigh in calm disappointment.

a gasp escapes your lips when the ex-archon suddenly pulls you closer with a harsh tug, your body colliding against his as his other arm circles around you to rest on your back.

“don’t flail about like that, my love. what if you hurt yourself?”

your zhongli would have never made you feel unsafe. and yet as you look into the same amber eyes, instead of the usual warmth spreading across your body, all you could feel in your chest is the coldness of fear.

perhaps this really would be the downfall of liyue, for since the first time after its creation, their god has finally abandoned them?

“[name], where’s that package from akademiya-”

tighnari’s question halts when his eyes swept across the darkened empty room. though your curtains are drawn and normal humans would only be able to barely make out silhouettes of the furniture, he can clearly see that you’re not inside.

with a confused hum, he snoops on your desk, knowing that you won't mind. one object, in particular, catches his eye.

that knowledge capsule must be the so-called ‘package’ from the akademiya.

tighnari clicks his tongue and approaches your desk, lifting the item, which casts a bright pulsing green light into his eyes.

well. best to get this over with as fast as possible.

he has to fiddle a bit with his akasha terminal, but the process comes naturally to him. knowledge rushed into his consciousness, but as the first stream hit he immediately knew something was wrong.

the world fades to black momentarily as the data transfer commences.

…

…

…

the capsule drops with a loud thud on your bedroom floor. ears flicking, tail swishing in agitation, the forest ranger stared in a daze as a sense of urgency suddenly built up inside of him.

his baser animal instinct hisses and snarls.

how could he be so nai̴ve?

wrong. you’re not here. it’s all wrong.

he has to get you.̶

he has to get you and bring you into his nest, where you belong.

nȯ̷͓ͅw.̷̡̢̧͈͈̌́̂

his legs move before he could finish the thought. in his hurry, he forgets to close the door completely. the eerie glow of the knowledge capsule casts an ominous luminescence onto a fallen piece of paper on the wooden floor.

“[name], we found this on yesterday’s patrol in one of the abandoned camps. there were loads of empty crates and a list of ‘client names’. we know what it is, but we’re not sure how to use it (and whether we should even try to) and we don’t know what its contents are; maybe you can ask tighnari to advise on what to do about it?”

the metal cuffs he used to detain the criminal clatter against the wooden desk, and cyno sighs tiredly as he slumps onto the chair. yet another criminal jailed and waiting for trial. the scholar just had to make it difficult for both of them, refusing to come with him and always trying to escape his watch.

now’s that’s all settled with, however, here comes the harder part.

vermillion eyes fall onto the papers and the bag of evidence, and he sighs once more, although this time it was more of an 'i really don't want to do this' sigh. but cyno is dedicated and diligent, and so, despite his dislike towards the activity, he proceeds to fill in the reports.

yet moments later, he stumbles upon a question he could not answer.

— what is the content of the stolen knowledge capsule?

….

well, only one way to find out.

the sensation of using a knowledge capsule washes over him. for a short duration, he was rigid, unable to focus on anything but the sudden onslaught of information poured into his head-

cyno’s fist hits the wooden table when the link disconnects.

his eyes squeezed shut. his head swirls. his heart rate steadily escalates.

his mind is full. so full. overflowingly full. overwhelmingly full.

of yoǘ̶ͅ.

“[name].”

his chest tightens.

“[name]. [name]. [name]. [name]. [name]. [name]-̴̙͎̠͆”

out of the corner of his eyes, he catches the glint of metal (strong, durable, steady). his hand reaches out to take the object, fingers carefully tracing the material (cold, unlike your warmth, which he misses so dearly). it’s dirtied and he’ll have to wash it first (for nothing shall sully your skin), but it would do.

no dirty blood should touch your skin. no eyes should fall onto your beautiful visage. no. you are pure and good and his. how had he not realized this before? this should have been the bare minimum for you! he is your protector. he is the very definition of just and he is the only individual who is suited to keep you saf̶e.

“wait for me, [name].”

he h̴̹̎as to keep you safe.

your lover is, for the most part, always rational and seemingly indifferent to his surroundings.

which is exactly why you love riling him up. pressing buttons and flicking switches to see which ones trip him up the most, which makes him flustered, which makes him tick. it’s a fun little game, and you know al haitham finds amusement in it too, despite his ‘complaints’. it’s a dynamic that works out wonderfully, you think.

but sometimes, you want more.

“-and what, pray tell, were you discussing? why would you waste your time talking to kaveh of all people?”

“oh come on, don’t be mean! kaveh’s great. it wasn’t a waste of time at all!”

“having insubstantial conversations are categorized as ‘wasting time’, i believe.”

mo̷re.

“oh, haitham... just admit that you’re jealous.”

“what a ridiculous accusation. why should i be afraid of some mindless fool flailing to sweep you off your feet? he is incapable of doing so.”

“oh i dunno, his latest design for his thesis was quite awe-inspiring. i think he really nailed the functionality and aesthetic down,” you tap the knowledge capsule with your fingers with a wink and a cheeky grin, “you should see it for yourself. i’m sure you’ll change your mind.”

your boyfriend regards you with an unimpressed frown, although he can’t fight the curiosity of his scholarly mind to draw his focus onto the said contraption within your grasp. with a knowing giggle, you toss it towards the scribe and shrug, announcing that you were going out to get some food after a quick wash-up.

𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒌

𝒕𝒐𝒄𝒌

m̸͎͗ore.

𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒌

𝒕𝒐𝒄𝒌

you barely made it two steps out of the bathroom when you’re cornered by your boyfriend. the red lines on his eyes seem to be shining as much as the reds of his terminal, and you tilt your head in question.

“so? how was kaveh’s-”

“don’t.”

the harsh grip on your shoulder and the hard wall your back smacked onto made you wince, but al haitham barely bats an eye from your distress.

“stop saying his name. st̵̲̾op saying other people’s name.”

a shiver runs up your spine, and you silently nod. there’s an exhale of breath before a soft pressure rests against your forehead. through your lashes, you see him melt against you, eyes closed. red. green. red. green-

“i’ll go get that food first, okay?”

-red.

“don’t. stay̵̠̘̙̩͛ here. i’ll go.”

red. red. red.

“here’s the rest of the payment, dori.”

“ohoho~ splendid! always so pleased to do business with you!”

“oh no, the pleasure is mine.”

“i presume the capsule is working as intended, then?”

“it was adorable, the way he comes running like a puppy to his master.”

“gosh~ out of all my customers, you sure are one of the strange ones….. [name].”

you chuckle and wave her goodbye, quite sure that your lover was going to turn port ormos upside down any time now, when he finally realizes that you’ve given him the slip.

oh, you’re so looking forward to this pleasant change in your life.

© zhongrin | 2022 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

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[meili-sheep]

When you realise that Diluc is extremely important to mondstadt and if he were to get taken out, mondstadt will be facing so many issues.

(By the way, I'm not saying the other characters aren't important.)

Honestly, if the Traveler ask Diluc to help them, Inazuma probably wouldn't have happened. LOLOL Probably most of Sumeru too.

But yeah, I firmly believe part of whey we haven't gotten a Diluc Act 2 is because a lot of his lore is so ended game heavy. So while yes he's very important to Mondstadt's stability (and it's break between of him and the Knights that even gave the Fatui an opening) he's important to the story too whether Mihoyo likes it or not. And You're right, other characters are important... but I don't think a lot of other Character hold the same importance as Diluc does. Like I think he ranks of importance up to at least the Archons and then like Neuvillette and Al Haitham (less so but still). Like, both are critical to their nation… but also to the lore.

(As much as Al Haitham would like not to be, and I'm sorry, but I don't believe Nahida would let him quite being Grand Sage lolol because 1) trust isn't something she could really afford at the moment and 2) you will never get another unbiased person who does genuinely cares maybe not in a traditional sense of caring but still and finally 3) it's funny as hell)

now i'm thinking about the 3 of them together, it would be funny as all get out.