#i love alhaitham

[cloevers]

jamaal

"jamaal" is the arabic word for beauty.

gn! reader, alhaitham x reader

a/n : i yearn for him deeply

Alhaitham was beautiful. That was one of the few thoughts you consider closest to absolute truth.

You’re both reading at the house of Daena, a lovely silence engulfing the air. He flips through the pages and you can’t help but notice how gently he does so. He does it quickly, but his fingers have a softness to them. They’re slightly calloused from countless hours of writing, but it’s obvious he puts care into minimizing the roughness to the best of his abilities. He’d mentioned before that he doesn’t like overly rough hands on himself.

Each finger could have a sonnet written about it. His pinky finger and the little mole on it, his thumb with the ring that adorns it, and his ring finger with that writer’s bump–

You’re getting distracted. You can only see his fingers on the book from your peripheral vision, but they’ve consumed your mind. How lovely must it be to have those digits interlaced with yours, loosely yet firmly enough to remind one of the presence of the other. As you flip the pages of your own book, you picture the skin of Alhaitham’s palm in place of the smooth paper sheet, and at that thought, you find yourself handling the pages more carefully.

Time passes as it always does, and he gets up to place the book back in its place. You can’t help but steal a glance, and the way the fabric of his coat flows so elegantly with every step he takes makes you want to ask the archons for forgiveness for ever thinking that coat was unappealing. It slips a little and you can see parts of alhaitham’s back, covered in the black shirt he usually wears. At the thought of wrapping your arms around him and feeling your hand rest against the muscles of his trapezius, you lose yourself. In the realm of fantasy, you find yourself wandering between countless scenarios involving touch, all of them tender. Your fingers hovering above the small of his back, gently guiding him to a place to sit. Or your head against his shoulder blade as you embrace him from behind on a rainy morning as he makes his coffee.

He turns to place the book on the shelf, and from this angle you can see his side profile. Hooked nose and plump lips, his ashen curls falling so perfectly against his forehead. He has a mole under his right eye. You can’t see it from this distance, but you’ve grown to memorize every single place he has a mole you could see, all thanks to the countless discreet stares you’ve given him when he was at a proximity appropriate enough for you to even notice them.

You were almost upset you weren’t able to see the left side of his face at that short moment, since he had a few acne scars on his left cheek, and a little mole under his lower lip that was just so lovely to look at. But you didn’t let that small disappointment linger, for at least you were able to admire the equally gorgeous right side of his face. Oh, how you wanted to kiss the tip of his nose, then place another kiss under his eye and then another on his temple. You wanted to kiss him all over.

You’re delighted to see the muscles of his arm ripple slightly as he places the book onto the shelf. At the sight, your lips twitch into a tiny, almost incomprehensible smile. He obviously works out, but it was also clear he wouldn’t say no to food being offered to him. You remember the times you’d feel comfortable enough with sharing some of your desserts with him. He seems to particularly enjoy baklavas and rose custard. You look away from his direction momentarily, closing your eyes to imagine the feel of his lips on yours, the slight taste of sugary syrup remaining on his velvety mounds after you’d fed him a piece of candied ajilenakh nut. As he finally places the book back on its designated shelf, he begins to make his way back to your shared desk. You'd managed to avert your attention back to your book to resume reading, or at least attempt to resume reading, before he’d managed to notice your peeking. You don’t need to look at him walking to his seat in languid, relaxed steps, to remember how the lovely gem on his chest just catches the eye, or how his hips sway ever so slightly, or how his thighs would brush against each other with each stride. It was all absolutely normal human behavior, but when it’s him displaying such behaviors they become so incredibly observable.

As he sits back down, he brushes a strand of hair away from his face. His hair looked so soft, you want to stroke it until he sleeps. You want to gently play with it, section it and part it into pretty styles for when he agrees to let you mess with it. You want to place little clips on it, and you want to bury your nose into it, to smell the soft shampoo he uses and to feel yourself melt from how intimate all of it is.

You’ve got three more chapters to go, and then you’re finished. He’s done with his own readings, but judging by the way he’s sitting beside you quietly, he’s going to wait so that the both of you get to leave the library together. His music player was on, distracting him with some soothing tunes as you take your time trying to read. He so obviously cares, but in his own special way. That alone makes you want to love him all the more delicately.

[moccajelly]

"Again?" / Alhaitham 🌱

[somas-delusions]

[meritamiau]

this is so fluffy i camt anymore

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。10:07 PM — AL-HAITHAM.

al-haitham asks you to marry him before he even realizes himself what he’s just asked. it’s a random tuesday night. you’re in worn out pajamas, he’s still got slight damp hair from his shower, and the both of you are curled up on the couch.

you’re rubbing his chest and his arm’s wrapped around your waist when you murmur, “we should get a place with more windows.”

he raises a brow, turns to look at you and scan over the side of your face. it’s familiar, the way you look so pretty under the dim light, on the same couch against the same walls in the same living room. but it’ll still feel like the first time even if it’ll be his last.

“is the design of our current home not up to your standards?” he asks, making you giggle.

“it’s nice,” you hum, “but it needs more windows. and a bigger kitchen. and maybe a backyard.”

“this home is conveniently close to our place of work,” he argues, fingers creeping up from under your shirt and rubbing circles into your hip. it’s soft—your skin, it’s warm and familiar under the rough pad of his thumb. it’s a touch that’s routine enough that you don’t squirm in surprise anymore when he finds your bare skin, and then he wonders for a moment if there are other routines waiting for him.

maybe he’ll watch you wait for him through the window as he comes home. maybe you’ll dance in the kitchen as coffee’s being made. maybe there’ll be picnics in the backyard as the sun sets. maybe, when you have a new house but the same home, he’ll find more of you in the walls and the corners of every room.

“haitham,” you huff, “a little extra walk won’t kill you. we should find our dream home.”

“our?” he asks after a moment, like he’s shocked. you only nod against his chest.

“of course, silly,” you chuckle, “i certainly won’t be house shopping with the general mahamatra—”

“we should get married,” he blurts.

“what?”

“my grandmother left a ring,” he instantly explains, “it’s a very nice ring, i promise. you won’t have to worry about having a bare finger—”

“that’s not what i meant—”

“and it can be a small ceremony,” he assures, “it shouldn’t take much planning. but if you’d like something fancier, i don’t mind either, it’s your wedding day just as much as it is mine—”

“that’s sweet, but wait—”

“and if you’re worried about time off for the honeymoon, as the former acting grand sage, there’s still a few strings i can pull for us both. i hear inazuma is nice during spring, so that gives us—”

he’s rambling. he’s figuring it out right here and now and it’s the last thing you expect of him, not having an elaborate plan—and it takes you by surprise. but he’s breathless and his eyes are wide and his chest is warm and his arm is still wrapped tightly around your waist.

and you couldn’t dream of saying no.

“you think you want all this?” you ask gently, “with little old me?”

“there’s no one but you,” he mumbles, holding you closer. and if there’s a slight bounce in his knee as he waits for your answer, you pretend you don’t notice.

“so you want to get married?”

“i want to marry you,” he corrects, “i want you. marriage is just the means of how.”

“okay,” you say with a hitch in your throat. after a moment of silence, you let out a shaky chuckle, eyes watery as you meet his. “okay. let’s get married.”

“okay,” he nods slightly, swallowing thickly.

“and we can have a house with more windows,” you add.

“and a bigger kitchen,” he agrees.

“and a backyard.”

“maybe a bigger study,” he adds thoughtfully.

you grab his face at that, with enough desperation that his cheeks are squished in your hands as you turn him, pressing your lips to his. you taste him, feel him pass through you as a breath of air, hear him ring through your ear as a muffled grunt.

he’s a part of you. he’s every inch of you. he lingers on your skin and knits into your bones. he’s yours now and somehow….somehow he’ll be yours forever.

“i’m going to get married,” you sniffle. “how exciting.”

“i’m going to marry you,” he murmurs, like he’s still processing the fact that you’re here, and his, and you’ve said yes.

“i love you,” you giggle, pressing your forehead to his.

his eyes close and his arm squeezes you gently. “i’ll always love you.”

edit: everyone stop fucking commenting about the authors note it was a joke and the comments are getting old :/ why don’t you actually leave feedback on the fic itself for once and show writers some support as you consume content

you people don’t fucking understand how insanely in love with him i am i want to make a fur coat out of his pubic hair and wear it on a cold winter day idc

[slushy-sash]

give paw?

[meru90]

go for it nakamura!! cover redraws cause i love them sm ;w;

[su-rodriguez]

yeah, I haven't had much time to finish this week's comic, I only have shitpost the original image hit me hard

[iiping]

it’s the archon’s birthday but they’re still in their own little world 🫣

[smolmilkyways]

big love from sumeru! 💚

[ewe-why]

Do not separate.

Also there is this extra:

[ruebird]

two mimir

[rissaito]

hm, the commotion isn’t unwelcome… just this time.

happy bday alhaitham!! he loves and values his friends even though he doesn’t show it in the conventional way… and although he doesn’t like a lot of noise, i think this time he’s alright with all the chatter and the laughter 🥹

[ciearcab]

happy late birthday to this guy

[tinartss]

first (and only) crush

[lvnesart]

can he handle all that???

[lunarwednesday]

be mine.