#the seated scribe

[a-modernmajorgeneral]

Almost everyone has seen this image of the Seated Scribe. Located on the upper floor of the Department of Egyptian Antiquities, this is the most famous of unknown figures. We know nothing about the person portrayed: neither his name, nor title, nor even the exact period during which he lived. Nevertheless, this statue never fails to impress visitors discovering it for the first time.

A specific posture

The Louvre's scribe, known as the "Seated Scribe", is indeed sitting cross-legged, his right leg crossed in front of his left. The white kilt, stretched over his knees, serves as a support. He is holding a partially rolled papyrus scroll in his left hand. His right hand must have held a brush, now missing. The most striking aspect of this sculpture is the face, particularly the elaborately inlaid eyes: they consist of a piece of red-veined white magnesite, in which a piece of slightly truncated rock crystal was placed. The front part of the crystal was carefully polished. The back side was covered with a layer of organic material, creating the color of the iris and also probably serving as an adhesive. The entire eye was then held in the socket by two large copper clips welded on the back. A line of black paint defines the eyebrows. The hands, fingers, and fingernails are sculpted with a remarkable delicacy. His chest is broad and the nipples are marked by two wooden dowels. The statue was cleaned in 1998, although the process merely reduced the wax overpainting. This restoration brought out the well-conserved ancient polychromy.

An unknown figure

The semicircular base on which the figure sits must have originally fit into a larger base that carried his name and titles, such as the base for the statue of Prince Setka, exhibited in room 22 of the Louvre. This base is missing, and the context of the discovery does not provide any additional information. According to the archeologist Auguste Mariette, who found the work, the statue of the scribe was apparently discovered in Saqqara on 19 November 1850, to the north of the Serapeum's line of sphinxes. But the precise location is not known; unfortunately, the documents concerning these excavations were published posthumously, the excavation journals had been lost, and the archives were scattered between France and Egypt. Furthermore, the site had been pillaged and ransacked, and no information concerning the figure's identity could be provided. Some historians have tried to link it to one of the owners of the statues discovered at the same time. The most convincing of these associates the scribe to Pehernefer. Certain stylistic criteria, such as the thin lips, which was unusual, the form of the torso, and the broad chest could support this theory. The statue of Pehernefer dates from the 4th Dynasty. This is an additional argument in favor of an earlier dating for this statue, which has sometimes been dated to the 6th Dynasty. Another argument supporting this date is that "writing" scribes were mostly created in the 4th and early 5th Dynasties; after this period, most scribes were portrayed in "reading" poses.

A scribe at work

The scribe is portrayed at work, which is unusual in Egyptian statuary. Although no king was ever portrayed in this pose, it seems that it was originally used for members of the royal family, such as the king's sons or grandsons, as was the case for the sons of Didufri (4th Dynasty), who were represented in this position.

[gutstring]

[a-modernmajorgeneral]

Dr. Steven Zucker: [0:06] We’re in the Egyptian collection in the Louvre in Paris. We’re looking at the “Seated Scribe.” This goes back to the Old Kingdom.

Dr. Beth Harris: [0:13] This is more than 4,000, almost 5,000 years old. And I think what draws people to this relatively small sculpture is how lifelike it is, given how old it is.

Dr. Zucker: [0:25] It’s painted, which adds to its lifelike quality.

Dr. Harris: [0:28] That was not unusual for ancient Egyptian sculpture, although the amount of pigment and coloration that survives here is rather unique.

Dr. Zucker: [0:35] With a few exceptions, the sculpture is painted limestone. The exceptions are the nipples, which are wooden dowels, and the eyes.

Dr. Harris: [0:42] The eyes are incredibly lifelike.

Dr. Zucker: [0:46] That’s because they’re made of 2 different types of stone. Crystal, which is polished on the front, and then an organic material is added to the back that functioned both as an adhesive but also to color the iris. There’s also an indentation carved to represent the pupil.

[1:00] All of this comes together to create a sense of alertness, a sense of awareness, a sense of intelligence that is quite present. It collapses the 4,500 years between when the sculpture was made and today.

Dr. Harris: [1:11] He’s not idealized the way that we would see a figure of a pharaoh. The Egyptians considered pharaohs to be gods, and would never have represented the pharaoh in this relaxed, cross-legged position, and with the rolls of fat that help make him more human.

Dr. Zucker: [1:27] He looks so relaxed, almost like he’s just exhaled.

Dr. Harris: [1:30] That’s true. But there is also a real formality here. He’s very frontal. He’s meant to be seen pretty much exclusively from the front, and there’s almost a complete symmetry to his body.

Dr. Zucker: [1:42] The exception being his hands. His right would have originally held a brush or a pen, and his left holds a rolled piece of papyrus that he’s writing on, which is interesting because it suggests the momentary, even though the Egyptians are so concerned with the eternal.

[1:59] You said a moment ago that he is intended to be seen from the front, but that raises an interesting question. Was this sculpture meant to be seen at all?

Dr. Harris: [2:11] Well, he was found in a necropolis, southwest of Cairo, in a place called Saqqara, an important Old Kingdom necropolis. We don’t know his exact findspot, so we don’t know as much about him as we would have if we did, but you’re right. This is a funerary sculpture meant for a tomb.

Dr. Zucker: [2:21] We would know more about him if the base on which he sits was not cut. It probably would have originally included his name and his titles.

Dr. Harris: [2:29] What’s interesting is that the hieroglyph for “scribe” is quite pictographic and shows a writing instrument — a pen — a pot of water, and cakes of pigment. Scribes were very highly regarded in Egyptian culture. They were one of the very few people who could read and write.

[2:48] It’s impossible to know how much of a portrait this is because we don’t have this man in front of us. We don’t know the degree to which this sculpture resembles him.

Dr. Zucker: [2:56] The sculpture has been carved with real delicacy. The fingers are long and elegant. The fingernails are carefully inscribed.

Dr. Harris: [3:03] He has very pronounced high cheekbones.

Dr. Zucker: [3:06] The only clothing he wears is a kilt, which has been painted white. His skin is a pretty rich red-brown, and the hair and the rims of his eyes are accentuated with black.

Dr. Harris: [3:15] It is wonderful to have this sculpture reaching out to us from more than 4,000 years ago.

source: bishopsbox

Seated scribe, Louvre Museum, Paris

El escriba sentado, Museo del Louvre, París.

[almostarts]

Chair of Reniseneb, New Kingdom, ca. 1450 B.C.

The back of this wooden chair, which belonged to the scribe Reniseneb, is handsomely veneered with ivory and embellished with incised decoration showing the owner seated on a chair of identical form.

It is the earliest surviving chair with such a representation, and it is the only non-royal example known. The scene and accompanying text have funerary import and may have been added following Renyseneb's death to make the chair a more suitable funerary object.

The high quality of its joinery and the harmony of its proportions testify to the skill of ancient Egyptian carpenters. The mesh seat has been restored following ancient models.

Wood, ebony, ivory,

Dimensions: h. 86.2 cm (33 15/16 in)

Courtesy: The Met

[thepastisalreadywritten]

TODAY IN HISTORY

10 August 1793

The Louvre opened in Paris, eventually becoming the most visited museum in the world.

Check out the most famous works in the Louvre below! 👇🏼🧵

The Code of Hammurabi — 1750 BC

Venus de Milo — 2nd century BC

Winged Victory of Samothrace — 190 BC

Liberty Leading the People — 1830

The Raft of the Medusa — 1819

The Coronation of Napoleon — 1807

Psyche Revived by Cupid's Kiss — 1793

(L): The Seated Scribe — 2500 BC

(R): The Great Sphinx of Tanis — 2600 BC

Mona Lisa — between 1503 and 1506

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Detail of inlaid eye belonging to the "Seated Scribe" , 2600 - 2350 BC. Crafted from red-veined white magnesite and rock crystal.

The Polished crystal was covered in the back with material used to create the color of the iris. :: [Treasures of ancient Egypt]

* * * *

The Dead, By Susan Mitchell

At night the dead come down to the river to drink. They unburden themselves of their fears, their worries for us. They take out the old photographs. They pat the lines in our hands and tell our futures, which are cracked and yellow. Some dead find their way to our houses. They go up to the attics. They read the letters they sent us, insatiable for signs of their love. They tell each other stories. They make so much noise they wake us as they did when we were children and they stayed up drinking all night in the kitchen.

[astriiformes]

Beloved local con sent out an email update saying they will still be requiring masks this year and are also banning all AI-generated art from the Dealer's Room and Artist's Alley... we love to see it...

[grouperhq]

who up seated scribe

[spiritsdancinginthenight]

Seated Scribe, Old Kingdom, 4th Dynasty, c. 2620–2500 B.C. Musée du Louvre. E 3023

[porcalinecunt]

𝐃𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐉𝐎𝐁𝐒!

🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩 taking good care of the duke and the scribe . . . ♡

⋆˚࿔ FEATURING . . 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ WRIOTHESLEY & ALHAITHAM X GN! READER

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . cw — afab!reader, threesome, dual handjobs, lots of cum, double pussyjobs, “just the tip” wriothelsey, edging(?), masterbation, not proofread!

[・:。author’s note ! 「 ✉️ 」・𓂃 ࣪˖ : this was made for a request that was accidentally deleted so im sorry for that ;-; im not the best with alhaitham as a charecter so sorry if he’s a bit ooc! either way, i hope you enjoy :3

you couldn’t think straight, not with two dicks in your fists as you desperately pumped away at your two lovers.

the great duke himself, mansplaining against his desk while the scholar simply stood next to you as he bit back a moan. you knew a man like alhaitham wouldn’t want to make too much noise, unlike wriothesley, who was groaning his little heart out.

“fuckkk…knew i couldn’t wait ‘till we got home..” he chuckled, his signature grin flashed a fang or two at your helpless position. jerking your lovers off as cum already sat splattered all over your fucked out face and flushed chest. your mouth smeared with their seed from an earlier double blowjob that somehow didn’t break your jaw. yet they still wanted more, insatiable as always.

alhaitham reached down to grab a piece of your hair, tearing your gaze away from the duke and into his piercings jade eyes, his expression softer then his usual sharp glare. “you’re doing..so well for us love, shit..”

“not well enough.” wriothesley interjects, shooing your hand off and getting up on his feet. his dick still hard and dripping with precum. “couch. now.”

he snarled, prompting you to stumble onto the soft seating before he pushed you onto your back and forced your legs wide open. you’re neglected pussy now in view for your boyfriends to see, giving them an idea they somehow managed to think of at once.

“say, how ‘bout we make it up to our pretty little thing..? hm? what do you think?” his grace asked.

alhaithem stared down at you like a lion in front of meat, he raised an eyebrow as he gave wrio a more then approving look.

“very well then, as long as you share this time.” he spoke sharply, referring to the times wrio would hog your attention and your cunt.

“good, and as for you..” wrio begins, leaning closer towards your ear. “don’t even think about closing those fucking legs of yours, got it?” he rasped in a menacing tone that made your body freeze up and your pussy clench around nothing.

you sat there confused beyond belief, until something hot and hard slides itself between your lips. a second one came immediately, this time, slapping against your clit crudely.

a nice, fair pussyjob for both of your boys to enjoy. the lewd noises from their cocks rubbing against your wet cunt was enough to arouse you more then before. dripping in desire as both men teased your hole all the way to your swollen clit, with one of them even teasing the tip into your pussy only for them to pull it out.

agonizing, but in the best way possible. you moans harmonizing with wrio’s groans and alhaithem’s sighs of pleasure seemingly fueled your incoming orgasm. “fuck, m’gonna cum..gonna cum..!” you whined, running your fingers against their leaking and swelling tips.

“yeah? want us to make a mess of you love..? just say the word..” the scholar sighed, spurts of white already ruining your clit. with wrio on the other hand practically fucking you with his tip as he came closer to his own orgasm.

“yes..yes..that’s fucking it..!” the duke groaned through clenched teeth as he came all over your cunt, only with alhaithem cumming all over your clit and stomach shortly after. however, despite all that, your own orgasm never came.

“i..i didn’t get to cum yet..” you whined, watching your lovers lean down in front of your ruined pussy with a gentle look in their eyes. alhaithem bringing his fingers to your cum-stained hole while wriothesley pressed a kiss against your needy clit.

“d’wa, don’t fret pretty thing..you’ll be taken care of, just let us do allll the work..”

© porcalinecunt 🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩ྀི do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

[lavandulawrites]

Sumeru’s Damsel In Distress Part 2

Yandere Alhaitham x reader, yandere Cyno x reader, yandere Kaveh x reader, yandere Tighnari x female reader (not separate)

Part 1

Finally finished part two!<3 I apologise for the wait, but something personal happened and I’ve also lacked motivation. Maybe there will be a part three? Maybe not. If you want me to write some scenarios regarding the four of them plus reader do send me a request/ask:)

Synopsis: It has been exactly two weeks since they drugged you and locked you up in the scribe and architect’s home. You still have a sliver of hope for escape.

Masterlist

Warnings: imprisonment, mention of lack of interest in food, obsession, possessiveness, Kaveh is surprisingly eerie

Word count: 1704

The skies outside the window was grey and it was clear that a storm was brimming. You sat at the kitchen table with a cup of orange juice in your hand. The condense on the cool glass making your palms wet. For once you were alone in the kitchen. They normally wouldn’t let you as they were scared you would harm yourself, but after convincing them you wouldn’t hurt yourself they let you be alone from time to time.

The bowl of yogurt in front of you was barely touched. You had lately had little appetite and the thought was of food almost made you sick. You had not told anyone of your captors, knowing that if you did you would stir great concern. Which was the last thing you wanted.

A lonely bird sat atop the tree in the garden and sang a lovely song. You watched as it stretched its little wings and you selfishly wished the two of you switched places.

You turned you attention back to the juice which had gone lukewarm in your hand. You took a sip and let the bittersweet taste fill your senses. It was good, but that was as expected. Cyno had bought it from a new stand in the city which specialised in juice.

The sound of the kitchen door opening snapped you out from your thoughts. You lifted your gaze and were met with red eyes.

“Good morning [Name]. Did you sleep well?” Kaveh greeted as he walked across the kitchen to the cupboards. “Also didn’t we tell you not to close the kitchen door when you are in here by yourself?”

“Sorry… I didn’t want to wake you” you adverted your eyes.

A hand ruffled your hair gently. “It’s okay sweetheart. Just remember it till next time, okay?” Kaveh smiled.

You nodded. “I will” you mumbled.

Kaveh took a seat besides you and looked out of the window. “A storm is coming, huh… Just my luck” he sighed. “I’m supposed to go to the building site of the project I’m working on, but if there’s gonna be a storm I will have to cancel” he groaned as he dragged a hand down his face in frustration.

The kitchen door swung open and in came three men. The fox smiled as his eyes met you. “Good morning [Name]” Tighnari smiled.

“Good morning” you greeted him back with a slight nod.

Cyno noticed your glass of juice and his lips turned up into a smile. “Was the taste to your liking?” he asked as he poured himself a glass.

“Yes. It’s very good” you took a sip.

“Did you sleep alright [Name]?” the tall grey haired man asked you as he prepared himself a portion of oatmeal.

You swallowed as you glanced out of the window. Sleep had been your only escape, but lately you had had horrible nightmares. Your eyes found his again and you pulled your lips back into a tight smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “I did. What about you?”

Alhaitham remained silent for a while as he let his eyes rake over your expression. “Don’t lie to me. There is nothing you should have to hide from me, from us” gestured to the three other men as he shook his head. “And to answer your question, yes I did.”

A hand rested on your shoulder as soft hair tickled your hair as the one behind you leaned down, which startled you. “Why haven’t you finished your yogurt, darling?” Tighnari’s breath tickled your ear.

Fuck. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m just not that hungry…” you slightly shrugged.

He tcked. “That’s no good. You need to eat” he rose a hand and gently stroked your cheek. His skin was warm and comforting. “Should I make you something else?” his voice soft.

“No thank you” you turned your face so you could face him and smiled slightly. You hoped he would let it be.

He was silent for a few heartbeats before he nodded. “I understand” his voice was monotone and it was clear he took note of something.

As the dark haired man left you alone to make himself some breakfast, your eyes met Alhaitham’s calculating gaze. A shiver ran down your spine at the knowing smirk he sent you.

The rest of the day was rather uneventful. You had read some in the many books that adorned the little library in the aesthetically pleasing house. As the night crept closer and heavy rain hammered against the windows, Cyno had convinced you to play some Genius Invokation TCG with him.

You had only played the game a couple of times before this predicament. You had seen Cyno play at the tavern and it was safe to say he was way above your league. Even so he had made you play with him almost every day since you and been imprisoned within Alhaitham and Kaveh’s home. Which had been exactly two weeks today.

The white haired general shuffled the cards with precision. He gave you your cards before he picked up his own. You followed suit. You let your eyes quickly wander over your cards. Nothing good yet.

You rolled the dices and to your surprise you only got the elements you needed. Could today really be the day? You asked yourself as you laid down your card.

Cyno hummed at your move, clearly proud of your improvement. “Good move” he smiled as he placed his card down.

As the two of you continued playing, you couldn’t help but let your mind drift to escape plans. An escape would be nearly impossible, but not impossible (that’s at least what you told yourself). All your captors had extremely high intelligence and various skills that would give you a great disadvantage. The odds weren’t in your favour, not even a little bit, but you still didn’t want to give up.

Maybe you could drug them? That would require you to steal some of Tighnari’s medicine, which was a difficult task as he had hid them well. Plus you didn’t have the medical knowledge to make sedatives if he didn’t have pre-made ones hidden away.

You thought long and hard on your options and the sound of a cleared throat snapped you out of your little schemes.

“Can you explain why this was in your room?” Alhaitham’s voice loud and as sudden as lightning form a clear sky.

You turned your head towards him with shaky hands. You swallowed before you pressed on a small smile. “What do you mean?” you tried to sound unbothered, but one could here a slight shakiness from your voice.

“Why was this in your room?” in his big hand was a screwdriver. The pointy side pointed up towards the ceiling. Long fingers tightly gripped the red handle.

“I don’t know…” you gave an attempt at sounding confused, but judging by the scribes furrowed brows you were unsuccessful.

Cyno had gone completely still from his side of the table before he quickly stood up resulting the chair legs to drag across the floor creating an awful sound. With an blink of an eye he was besides the tall man. Tan fingers took the screwdriver and brought it closer to his flaming eyes. “This is Kaveh’s” his voice no different from what it usually was.

He gave Alhaitham the screwdriver before he stalked towards you. You remained seated in your seat. “Why was this in your room [Name]?” he crouched down so he appeared smaller than you. His eyes boring into yours trying to pry your mind apart.

You opened your mouth, but only a chocked sound escaped you. Your eyes shifted from Cyno to Alhaitham and then back.

“M- Maybe it got left in my room after you renovated it? Before all this” the last part was only a mere whisper, but Cyno had picked it up. He rose to his feet and folded his arms as he looked down at you with a stern expression.

A scoff followed by a chuckle could be heard from your right. “And do you really think we would be so careless?” Alhaitham was clearly amused by your attempt at explaining yourself.

The living room swung open and in stepped Kaveh and Tighnari. “Hi! We were thinking of playing some Uno woul- Is that my screwdriver?” Kaveh’s eyes feel to the tool in the grey head’s hand and to you. His jovial expression was changed to something cold and calculating. With quick steps he was besides Alhaitham. “I have been looking for this…” his voice low as he took the screwdriver in his hand.

Shivers ran down your spine at the blonde’s cold gaze. You gripped the hem of your dress. Your hands were really shaking now.

“What do the meaning of this?” Tighnari’s voice broke the silence. He moved from the door and to your left side. You could feel his eyes even with your face turned downwards.

“I found Kaveh’s screwdriver in her room. Which is weird if you ask me, given how she has no need for it nor is she allowed to handle such dangerous items.”

“[Name] are you trying to escape?” Kaveh asked you coldly. He was right besides you now. You could see it in his eyes that he was angry. The scribe stood behind him, but remained silent.

With a fast motion he gripped your chin and forced your head up. “After all we that have done for you?” his eyes were blown wide in fury and disappointment. “And here I thought we were finally getting somewhere…” he chuckled.

You gulped as ruby eyes stared you down. You tried to think of something to say, but you were at loss for words.

“Maybe we should reduce your privileges” the blond man’s voice were laced with hurt and frustration. He let go of your chin as he rose to his full height.

“I think that’s a good idea” the fox on your left nodded agreement.

You watched as Kaveh pocketed the screwdriver and you felt your heart sink. He eyed you before he turned on his heel and left the living room.

It would take some time to gain back their trust now.

[anantaru]

— biting them affectionately

including alhaitham, kaveh, scaramouche, heizou, tighnari, albedo, kazuha, cyno x gn! reader

꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, crack, this is so random

alhaitham, who will be at loss of words at first— while, keep in mind, it wasn't easy to get the scribe speechless like that, regardless of how he was never bitten in his life. however, he told himself to never question whenever you'd do anything like that, so for one, he'd simply look at you confused and irritated, before asking you with a stern and stoic blush on his cheeks, "why?" it's not like he doesn't know, but for some reason did he find it quite amusing whenever you'd explain yourself over such little, hilarious things. but, when you decide to bite him again, without answering, he'd just ignore you and keep reading his book.

one might think kaveh will act slightly different than alhaitham, but he's equally confused yet the moment you bite him he'd let out a yell, animalistic, one overly dramatic scream of fake pain, channeling his vocal chords to their fullest extent. "what was that for?!" he whines, rubbing the pulsing red spot on his shoulder, "i just love you." you smile and now, again, he finds himself seeing you as the most adorable thing to ever exist. discernibly did you sense your precious chance of biting him many more times, only faintly, but strong enough to have your boyfriend whine and airily laugh before engaging in a playful fight with you.

if you think scaramouche won't bite you back, you're one naive and wide-eyed individual. this man also doesn't hold back, he'll give it his all to win what you have started. don't be upset when he starts biting you heavier than you do, he sees it as a serious showdown now. "don't go running off now." you're not admitting defeat yet, he fears, but you will, he's sure of it. by now, he has you caged in between his arms while a breezing pain in your belly began to expel, from all the sweet and heavy laughing and cheering. whether or not you will win was long since in the back of your head, what counted was seeing kuni engage in something silly for once, and having a great time at that.

heizou's quick and precise thinking skills were deeply needed in the predicament you both found yourself in. one minute you were lazily cuddling and kissing under the silken sheets before you decided to bite him out of nowhere, not hard, but impressionable. specifically against his neck where he was the most sensitive, "augh." he growls before looking at you, somewhat intrigued, "that came out of nowhere." he huffs, and in some strange way was he already beginning to plan his bloody revenge on you, pulling you on your back before dragging your hands over your head, so you're out of commission, so it's him who can decide where to give you a taste of your own medicine.

at the outset, tighnari thought a random bug bit him out of nowhere, he couldn't even fathom that it was you biting him out of the blue. "wait." he stops the work on his desk, tilting his head to the side where you were comfortably seated in, eagerly, awaiting a response, "was that you?" you can feel the sass in his full sentence as it spread through the seconds of silence before your answer goes right through, "nope." someone must give you an award for keeping your laugh in like that, especially when it was burning and bristling inwardly, "a bug." you shrug, "no, it's you." assuming you're playing mind tricks, he catches the smirk on your lips, "dangerous territory." he coos, the bite mark on his shoulder matches your teeth and thanks to closer inspection he confirms his suspicions. well, good luck to you.

it's not out of the ordinary for albedo to question something insignificant and random a little too deep. "how interesting." he rests his chin against his palm, "is this considered normal amongst humans?" a glittering, infectious smile pulls itself around your lips when he quizzes you on it, over and over, and you settle to do it again without responding, shortly gnawing down on his shoulder, "for me it is." while ruffling his hair until it was practically falling out of the small ponytail, "i see." albedo drags you closer, "should i return it?" by the look of things, this might become a daily occurrence now.

"oh?" kazuha brushes over his arm, holding eye contact, "you're strong." and feigns the heavy proudness in his voice. in actuality, he barely felt your teeth dig into his flesh, but he found the noises you made beyond cute, kind of high pitched within its hilarity. all and all, was this just one of the many things he fell in love with when it came to you and his face lights up in delight and interest when he notices the transparent joy on your lips. there's an almost imperceptible happiness across his entire skin, sparking at the outline of his jaw and littering in his eyes, "now." he slants forward, getting his point across, "my turn!"

quite frankly, did your boyfriend cyno get the impression that you were actually mad at him at first, alas why you decided to bite his cheek right after hugging him, that's the hypothesis of the day. turns out you weren't, shocker, but he rubs the squishy flesh before questioning it— with you, naturally responding right away, "it's because i love you." you assure him, "so you can see it as an act of love." and jokingly bite him again, this time slightly lighter and only a bit, emphasizing your point. after carefully thinking about it more upfront, cyno finds himself enjoying it and doesn't mind when you bite him as much as you see fit, as long as you're happy that is.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[monicahar]

“thanks for the flowers!”

“what flowers?”

in which they find out you receive a gift from someone that isn't them.

characters; wanderer, alhaitham, kaveh

; i keep seeing that damn tiktok 😐 gender neutral reader, fluff, crack,

WANDERER eyes you skeptically, suspicion being evident on his pale features as he scans your expression up and down. has he already caught on to your little prank?

“first of all, who in their right mind would court you? and with some sappy flowers as well?”

you return his unamused gaze, finding him very unfunny.

“you do know that you're dating me, right?”

“unfortunately.” he clicks his tongue, further leaning towards your face, brows still furrowed as if he's trying to decipher something, gazing at you with an unreadable expression that has your resolve crumbling. “is this another one of your antics to get a rise out of me? if so, it's not working.”

his lips break out into a grin upon watching your eyes widen. but your shock doesn't last long—him immediately seeing through your silly scheme isn't an unexpected outcome, funnily enough.

“you're too serious sometimes.” you pout at him whilst he scoffs, “just humor me. what would you actually do if i managed to receive flowers from another?”

“it's simple—you can't.” comes his swift and confident reply, offending you as you stare at him incredulously, weighing the implication of his words.

“you speak of me like i'm the most unattractive person in teyvat—what do you mean i can't?”

“you're an idiot. would i have really chosen you if you were unattractive in any way?” he crosses his arms before facing you completely, indigo hues staring directly into yours.

“i already eliminated all those who dare steal you from me.”

...?

you freeze on the spot, processing what you've just heard.

“...excuse me?”

“—just kidding. i'm no longer that type of person, hah.” he huffs out a derisive laugh, yet his humorous farce does not meet his eyes.

not finding any comfort in his supposed testament of it only being a joke, you opt to stare at him confusingly in return. weirdo.

ALHAITHAM, much like the wanderer, catches on to the prank immediately. whether it's intuition, scarily precise deduction or just the way you generally act weird when it comes to lying to his face—he still figured you out in the end like it's nothing.

but unlike the wanderer, he decides to humor you and play along. what a good boyfriend.

“...you mean you didn't give me the flowers?” you flutter your lashes at him, a horrible and terribly inefficient way to convince him that the whole thing with the flowers is actually real. alhaitham suddenly has the rare urge to laugh. since when did you act like this?

alhaitham shifts in his seat. “no. who do you think it's from?”

“hm.” you hum thoughtfully, bringing a finger to your chin as if in deep thought. the scribe briefly wonders how far you're willing to take this joke. but he digresses—the chances of him actually getting mad at you are akin to that of kaveh finally shutting up—

“maybe kaveh? he grew an interest in flowers recently, so i've heard. maybe he sent some as like a sign of friendship or something along those lines...there's no way it means something else, riiiiiight?”

alhaitham pauses his train of thought.

speak of the devil.

momentarily doubting his conclusion that you're just pulling a prank, he quietly glowers at you as if silently telling you to take back your words.

“what about him?”

you immediately cower upon the drop in his tone—raising your arms in defense when alhaitham moves to stalk closer to you. “i was joking! i didn't get any flowers from anyone and last time i conversed with kaveh was when i—”

“let's go.” he grabs the back of your collar and drags you along, a newfound heavy weight in his footsteps as an indescribable and uncomfortable feeling creeps up on his neck.

“i really was just joking, 'haitham! i was bored and i wanted to annoy you for a bit! i swear!”

even if it wasn't true, the thought of kaveh gifting you flowers without his knowledge—

alhaitham's expression subconsciously turns sour. quite unlucky that you couldn't witness the extremely scarce sight of jealousy on your boyfriend as you are comically dragged against your will behind him.

“the nearest flower shop is just around the corner. tell me if anything piques your interest.” he says in way that has no room for argument. he is getting you flowers now.

KAVEH falls for it, obviously. not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed outside his designated profession, you see.

“i don't remember buying any flowers...” he mutters to himself, the gears in his head turning. it's almost laughable when he finally pieces your words together, a look of disbelief painfully present on his faxe but by some miracle, you resisted the urge to burst out in giggles right then and there. “wait...i didn't send any!”

“is that so...then who would send me flowers other than you?” you edge him on, instigating at its finest, much poking a sleeping bear with a stick while you circle it tauntingly.

an actual enraged kaveh is something you've never seen before, just some tantrums and endless ranting about some clients and his roommate. you've always wanted to see it—just not directed at you, hopefully.

“that's...ah, people already know you're dating me though, so it can't be someone hitting on you. maybe it's just from a relative or—”

“really?” you tilt your head, feigning a bit of confusion. “then i suppose i should keep these red roses then. i'll ask tighnari how to keep them alive, i guess.”

“w-wait, wait—could you repeat that?”

“hm?” you face him, “i'll ask tighnari?”

“no, the one before that.”

“...i'll keep the red roses?” you had to hold yourself back from grinning ear to ear when his eyes widen.

it's not unexpected that someone versed in the beauty of art would recognize one of the most common flower's meaning. quite the handy trivia.

he immediately stands up, grabbing your hand in tow as you yelp in surprise at his abruptness.

“kaveh?!”

“those flowers mean love! like, actual romantic love! i'll burn it for you right now! where'd you put it!?” the intensity of his ruby gaze sends shudders down your spine.

“it's not like i reciprocate it—”

“still, no one other than me should be sending those...!” kaveh tightens his grip on your hands, “i don't like the idea of someone hitting on you. i can't let anyone attempt to take you away from me...”

you blink. “kaveh...”

“—that's why show it to me now! or i'll bite you!”

“okay, okay! jeez...”

now...how are you going to break the news to him that it was actually yellow roses, and most definitely not from an admirer?

the biggest hater of my work is myself. wtf am i writing bruh ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ

[mrpenguinpants]

Green Slumber

— "Ah, look! Is Alhaitham taking a nap?" "Shh...You're too loud, Paimon." "Th-That's not true…Paimon was definitely whispering-wait, who is that beside him?"

— Alhaitham

Ayato Ver: Pale Blue Slumber Traveller & Paimon lines are taken from the official Genshin Twitter post. [Masterlist]

Congrats Alhaitham, your birthday postpones the fic where I tear you apart for scamming me. I usually don't write birthday fics but pretty art. Can you tell I'm not used to writing second pov and rushed again :)) I don't know how to end fics.

"Ah, look! Is Alhaitham taking a nap?"

Lumine looks in the direction of Paimon's voice, her floating companion peeking through a room with a giddy face. No doubt hatching some sort of plan to get back at the scribe for his words during their quest to rescue Lesser Lord Kusanali. On one hand, she should probably scold Paimon for immediately jumping to payback since the reason both of them are here is to wish the man a happy birthday before departing to the next region. But on the other hand...

“Shh…You’re too loud Paimon,” Lumine whispers as she tip-toes towards the door and gently pushes it open further. She's pointedly ignoring the face Paimon is throwing her for acting just as bad as she is. If anyone asks, she'll make an excuse that she was just being a polite guest and if Alhaitham was sleeping, she would excuse herself quietly. In no way is it her curiosity to see the ever-serious Alhaitham in any mode that's defenseless and relaxed. So with Paimon’s head hovering above hers, they both poke their heads into the room. Alhaitham doesn’t look any different from the last time they met, although asleep, he looks far less intimidating. He’s leaned back in the wooden chair, arm propped up to hold his lolling head in place. Calculating amber and teal eyes are closed as his chest falls up and down slowly with each breath while the gentle sun paints him in warm yellows and soothing whites. If Lumine had never met Alhaitham before, she would have thought he may have been the Dendro archon with how serene the scene itself is. Something that almost makes her want to reach out and touch him just to check if he’s real or not.

"Th-That's not true…Paimon was definitely whispering-wait, who is that beside him?" Paimon’s voice tapers off at the end, eyes alight with confusion. Lumine tears her eyes away from Alhaitham to look at where Paimon is pointing. Seated on the desk right in front of Alhaitham’s sleeping figure, a stranger hums softly with their ankles locked as they swing their legs ideally in the air. In their hands appears to be the beige book Alhaitham usually carries around, the one about physics and motion if she remembers correctly. Now that she’s looking - she can't believe she missed an entire person because she got distracted by the image of a sleeping Alhaitham - the stranger looks far more comfortable in the room than she is. Maybe they're another roommate? Although Alhaitham doesn't seem like the type to have an extensive list of friends and she's positive she's met most if not all of the people Alhaitham could call close enough to have them in his home. She shares a look with Paimon who returns it with a shrug of the shoulders. Neither one of them has ever seen this mysterious person before.

"Haitham, this section here about..." the stranger's voice brings blue and yellow eyes back to the room. Lumine watches intrigued as the stranger finally looks up from the book to see Alhaitham fast asleep. A soft sigh escapes their lips as they close the book, shoulders dropping into something more relaxed, and they just sit and look at the man. They have the same look in their eye but instead, their hand slowly reaches out until their fingertips meet the tips of soft silver hair. Pushing strands away from his face before waltzing down to caress his cheek. It's an intimate touch and Lumine isn't sure whether she should be here interrupting the moment. The stranger surely seems to be having fun as they return to playing with silver strands. Through it all, Alhaitham remains asleep yet, his body seems to lean into the touch naturally. As if these practiced movements have happened before.

Oh. Oh, she understands now.

“Hey, Paimon…” Lumine starts as she slowly picks herself off the floor as quietly as possible lest she disturbs the peace. "We should leave."

"Huh? But why? We've never seen this person before right? What if they're one of those bad guys that are after Alhaitham because he's the acting grand sage!" Paimon adamantly nods, small hands clutched into little fists. It would be cute if it weren't for the fact that Paimon has no sense of volume. Before Lumine can reach out and press her palm against Paimon's mouth to stop her from shouting again, a light chuckle rings out. They both freeze in place, flicking their heads back inside the room.

"You know...if you talk any louder you will actually wake him up," the stranger drops their hand as they turn to face the duo. There's mirth dancing in their eyes and Lumine has enough decency to look embarrassed at getting caught red-handed. Paimon on the other hand has no such reservations.

"Ah, sorry! We didn't mean to! Wait-Hey! Don't turn this on Paimon. Who are you and what are you doing in Alhaitham's house?!" Paimon stomps her feet in the air, crossing her arms as she pouts at the stranger. Her frown further increased by the stranger laughing harder.

"I basically live here. There's no need to be so on edge. I doubt Haitham could sleep so easily if a stranger was in his home," they say, gesturing to the still peacefully unaware scribe who hasn't moved a muscle since they arrived.

"Ohh, so you're like that blond guy from before! Ka-Ka something? But wait, why were you touc-"

"Ahem, sorry for barging in. We just wanted to say Happy Birthday to Alhaitham. We'll visit again some other time when he's awake," Lumine cuts Paimon off, successfully managing to slap her hand against Paimon's mouth. She can feel the back of her ears turning red as she bows and practically sprints away and out of the house. She'll just write a note to the scribe instead.

+

You blink a few times before chuckling again. Wow, that girl sure can run fast. You've heard stories about the Traveller and this "Paimon" character, patiently waiting for your turn to stumble into their journey. Although you wish you had met them with better first impressions, they seem like a lively bunch. Your eyes slide over back onto the sleeping figure in front of you, and there's a slight nudge of his lips. The smallest of smiles threaten to burst before it placates into something more neutral. A small detail that hasn't escaped you.

"I know you're awake Alhaitham," you state blankly, your gentle hands reaching back up before suddenly turning harsh and tugging at his cheek. Pulling the skin so he has a lopsided smile. True to your words, teal and amber eyes open without an ounce of shame. "Weren't those your friends? Don't be rude and ignore them when they came all this way to say happy birthday."

He offers a half-hearted shrug before the hand supporting his head moves to take your fingers still tugging at his cheek. Intertwining them together until his face is free. His smile is still small but his eyes shine with fondness that you're forced to look away. Sometimes you forget just how pretty Alhaitham can be.

"Weren't you the one that said I should indulge on my special day? Is it so wrong that I want to spend it with you and you alone?" He adds to his point by brushing his lips against your fingertips before pressing a kiss to your palm. There's a small smile as he extends his other hand out, eyes taking in how pink your ears become. "So let's indulge."

“For such a pretty face, you sure are…” you trail off but you take his hand and let him move you onto his lap. It's unfair how fast he can turn the tables on you and how easily you let him do so. It was fun being able to poke and prod the man to your heart's content since he had to hold the disguise of being asleep, even if you do feel a bit bad that the Traveller had to postpone their greeting, but now it's his hands that roam over your body. Slipping under your - his - shirt and rubbing small circles into your hip before growing bored and moving onto another patch of untouched skin until there's nothing left to take. Lip hungry as he kisses away your words because every breath that isn't mixed with his is worthless. Perhaps it's a blessing that you need to take a proper breath because you're sure that Alhaitham would keep taking until there's nothing left. Disregarding how tightly your hands cling to him and refuse to let him stray too far away.

"Greedy."

"Pot meet kettle."

---

[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@genshins1mpact @creatorofstars @xoneaboveallx @timmyitsmeeee @raingoesboomboom @duhsies @thegayrubberducky @isa-solasun @afoxesgreed @yuuki4646 @angel-luv-04 @inlovewithwaffles @maddymints09 @moonssandstars @ieathairs @crypticbibliophile @cumbermovels @totallynotaraidensimp

[mystic-writings]

ink on skin | daryl dixon

PAIRING — daryl dixon x fem!soulmate!reader

REQUEST — anon — hello! could you do an angsty story with daryl dixon? fem reader please <3 

SUMMARY — daryl gave up on the concept of soulmates long ago, even with the words marked on his wrist. and then he found you.

WARNINGS — canon-typical scenarios, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, soulmate au

WORD COUNT — 3,573

NOTES — this was supposed to be part of a really long collection of prompt drabbles from years ago but i found it in my docs and turned it into something a lot longer <3 it’s not the best (i couldn't for the life of me work out a good ending), but i think this might be one of my faves i’ve written bc of how poetic the first few paragraphs are 

masterlist | navigation | requests are open!

Daryl gave up on the concept of soulmates long before the world ended. He gave up on it when he was just a boy, when his mother died and his father stopped showing love. When he was told by his peers, his brother, his father, that no one would ever want him to stay with them, because he just wouldn’t be wanted by anyone. 

He grew to loathe the words on his wrist from a very young age. He did everything he could to cover them — makeup he stole from his aunt, long-sleeved shirts, bracelets, you name it. He’d even gotten used to not glancing at the ink scribed on his left wrist, making sure that no matter what, his eyes never fell on them. 

But even when he hated the words that sat there, waiting to be spoken by someone who cared, someone who wanted him, he couldn’t deny the countless nights he spent awake, tracing each letter and imagining what his soulmate’s voice sounded like. How would they say those three little words? What would they look like? When would he meet them? 

Daryl missed the feeling of being wanted. He only ever felt it when he was with his mother, when he was a young boy who didn’t know anything but that the sky was blue and soulmates were real and his father was mean. He hasn’t felt wanted — truly wanted — for a long, long time, not even when he found the group. 

Over time, with the loathing came the forgetting of the words marked on his wrist. By the time the world ended, Daryl had almost completely abandoned the reality of having a soulmate, and he rarely ever thought about it. In fact, he felt some relief in the fact that the world had ended. The chances of him finding ‘the one’ had lowered significantly now that most of the population was undead, and he had no reason to worry about being better for someone just to make it seem like he was worth loving anymore. 

For almost three years, he lived with the relief of likely not having a soulmate anymore. 

Today was an ordinary day, especially for the Alexandrians. At least, it seemed like an ordinary day. The sun was shining, people were milling around, crops were growing. But underneath the surface was something that no one wanted to address. Fear. 

Negan was beginning his wrath on the community that could barely keep itself alive. He demanded supplies, and he demanded a lot of them. So, half of Daryl’s people had gone out on runs to look for stuff. Food, clothes, medicine, whatever they could bring back. Daryl was among that group, taking a car as opposed to his motorbike and going to a high school with Carol.

At first, he volunteered to go alone, but she reasoned with him. It was too big of an area for him to cover on his own, she said. He could get hurt, or worse. And it was Carol, how could he deny her? She was his best friend, after all. So, Daryl drove in silence, Carol in the passenger seat, staring curiously at him. 

The feeling of her eyes on his annoyed him to no end, and eventually, the archer caved. 

“There somethin’ on my face or wha’?”

“Nothing,” Carol chirped. “Just… thinking.” 

“‘Bout wha’?” Daryl asked, sparing a glance at the woman. 

Carol shrugged, eyeing her friend. “About those words, on your arm.” 

Daryl tensed, shifting his posture to hopefully hide them from Carol’s view. “And?”

“Well, they’re not gone, for one.” She stated, a lilt in her voice. “And they’re… interesting first words for a soulmate, don’t you think?”

“How am I supposed ta know? I ain’t never seen anyone else’s tattoos. And it ain’t like I got a good chance of meetin’ ‘em, with all this shit goin’ on.” Daryl grumbled, watching Carol shrug and avert her gaze, looking ahead at the road. 

“Just saying… I wouldn’t give up hope, Daryl.” 

How would Carol know whether or not he should give up hope? Sure, she’d been the person closest to him aside from Rick, but even she knew nothing about his soulmate. Hell, he was still trying to figure out how she knew exactly what words marked his wrist. Still, he shook the thoughts from his head and continued the drive in silence, as though nothing had been spoken between the pair. 

Somehow, the high school Daryl and Carol had arrived at seemed to be completely abandoned. 

There were no walkers roaming around outside the grounds, most of the windows were intact, and the parking lot was practically void of cars. It was a small town, but from what Daryl could remember of the high schools they’d driven past or looted during their time at the prison, he figured most high schools in small towns — like this one, in particular — would’ve been turned into aid camps for refugees. 

Even with no signs of life, Carol and Daryl kept their weapons up as they entered through the main doors. 

Flashlight beams swept over every inch of the school, and it became clear as to why there were no walkers. Rotting bodies littered the linoleum floors, dried blood splattered over tile and wall and metal lockers. A stench that the pair had, unfortunately, gotten used to, permeated the air, filling their guts with a permanent feeling of nausea. 

The first place they’d found was the nurse’s office, and while there wasn’t much in the way of medicines, there were supplies that Alexandria was lacking. Gauze, tension wraps, bandaids, generic over the counter medicines like ibuprofen and Gravol. Whatever was left, Carol loaded into the backpack she’d brought, filling it to the brim with what they found. 

“Cafeteria should be this way,” she nodded down the hall, flashlight sweeping across the path before they exited. 

Passing by empty classroom after empty classroom, Daryl said, “Migh’ need some of this stuff for later, when the kids get older, ya know? Be good for ‘em to learn.” 

“Yeah, it would be,” Carol nodded, eyes landing on a set of double doors to her right. “Maybe we’ll come back for all that stuff later.” 

Daryl grunted in affirmation, about to push the cafeteria door open with his shoulder. He paused as a loud thump echoed down the hall. His eyes flashed, followed by the beam of his flashlight, landing on a singular closed door, a plastic chair propped under the handle. 

“Leave it,” Carol advised. “It’s just a walker.” 

Daryl nodded, but his eyes lingered on the door for a moment. Deciding to leave it be, he pushed the cafeteria door open, finding it empty yet again. The pair crossed the large area to the hot table, where they could already see some canned goods lying about on the tables. 

“If there were people here,” Carol began, “why wouldn’t they have taken the food with them when they left?”

“Why’s that matter?” Daryl asked, propping his crossbow against the wall and pulling out his knife. He knelt by the door to the kitchen, putting his flashlight down and wedging the blade between the frame. “‘S more for us, ‘s all that matters. Don’ gotta question everythin’,” 

Carol said nothing, keeping her flashlight trained on the door for Daryl to use as extra light. 

After prying open the door, the pair used a cart to transport the mounds of large, sealed canned goods. With Carol pulling and Daryl pushing, they’d made quick work of the first two trips they needed to make, loading their trunk as best as they were able. 

On their way out of the third and final trip, Carol held the cafeteria door open as Daryl pushed the half-full cart, stopping abruptly as the door started to swing shut behind him. 

“What? What is it?”

“I hear somethin’,” Daryl muttered, straining his ears to listen for the noise again. He listened for what felt like decades, and just when he thought he was going crazy, he heard it again. “There,”

“What? I didn’t hear anything,” Carol said. 

“Nah, I heard it. Comin’ from this way,” he gestured down the part of the hall they hadn’t bothered exploring. Slowly, focused entirely on identifying the noise, Daryl crept down the hall, a confused Carol following him. 

Just as he’d been passing the room with the chair blocking the door, Daryl heard two sounds: a dull thunk, and a hiccuping cry. He stopped, turning to the door that had drawn his attention before. 

“Daryl, it’s just a walker,” Carol insisted. “Let’s go, we got what we need.” 

The archer didn’t listen, footfalls nearly silent against the linoleum as he approached the door, knife raised. In quick motions, Daryl pulled the chair from the door, sending it down the hall with a resounding screech, grabbing at the handle and pulling it open. The hinges squeaked as he peered within the dark, small room — a supply closet, he’d discerned from the cleaning products lining the shelves. All sense of danger left him when he wasn’t met with a walker, but instead a girl, her body half-laying, half-sitting, propped against the wall. 

Daryl’s eyes widened, taking in her form. She was covered head to toe in dirt and grime, save for the clear tear tracks down her cheeks and neck. Her hair was matted, and the side of her calf, just above the ankle, was wrapped in dirtied bandages. Her only protection was a small knife, covered in dried blood, the handle of which rested in her limp hand. 

“Holy shit,” Daryl blurted, catching the attention of Carol, but barely gaining acknowledgement from the girl before him. 

Carol, peeking over Daryl’s shoulder, moved first. She darted around the archer’s broad frame, kneeling down at the girl’s calf. Peeling the bandage from her skin, Carol sighed in relief, finding a deep gash where she feared there might have been a bite mark. “She’s hurt,” Carol remarked, moving closer to search for a pulse. “And barely alive.” 

“Go bring the cart out, I’ll carry her out,” Daryl’s eyes never left the girl’s form as Carol left. Carefully, he scooped the girl into his arms, relief flooding him when a weak, protesting groan fell from her chapped lips.

There was no telling how long she’d been stuck in that closet, without food or water, simply left to die. And based on the chair propped against the door… it had been intentional. 

Daryl carried her to the car with ease, having Carol assist him as he laid you across the back seat, taking the time to make sure she would be secure as they drove. After confirming that everything was packed into the trunk, Daryl peeled out of the school parking lot, the drive back to Alexandria being much shorter than the one to the school. 

The sun was setting when the car passed the gates, and from there, things passed in a flurry of motion. Daryl carried the girl to the infirmary himself, watching Tara and Denise move about hastily to heal this mystery woman. 

“What happened to her?” Denise asked, cutting the bandage from her ankle. 

“Dunno,” Daryl huffed. “Found her like tha’. Musta been trapped for a while. Few days without water, at least.”

Denise only nodded, working to clean the wound and stitch it. She barely had the focus to think about the wound itself, how deep it was and the likelihood of infection setting in. Tara worked at cleaning the girl’s skin, inserting an IV into her hand like she’d been taught. 

The sun had set by the time they were done, the girl changed into new clothes and her skin cleaned of grime. Tara had been sitting by her side when Daryl came back to the infirmary, after going to the Grimes home to eat something and give as much information as he could to Rick and Michonne. 

“How’s she doin’?”

“As good as she can,” Tara smiled awkwardly. “I don’t think she’ll be waking up anytime soon, she’s like— super dehydrated. It’s been an hour and I’ve had to change the bag thingy twice already.”

Daryl grunted in acknowledgement, pulling up a chair on the other side of the girl’s bedside. He didn’t know much about her — or anything, really, not even her name — but even with her chapped lips and sickly look, he thought she was beautiful. And he also knew that whoever had left her in that closet had done so on purpose. He figured it might have been because of her injury, but it was cruel no matter which way he tried to paint it. 

He just hoped she’d be okay when she woke up. 

It took the mystery girl three days to wake up. Managing her health at a time where there weren’t any real supplies to use had been difficult, and it took all of Denise’s focus to make sure she had enough fluids. 

Waking up in an unfamiliar, oddly clean, room, on a bed, with no stench of rotting bodies wafting through the air was confusing, terrifying, and oddly comforting. 

Your body woke with a jolt, eyes snapping open like you’d woken from a nightmare of sorts. There was movement to your right, and you jumped back from it, frantic eyes finding a blonde girl attempting to calm you without touching you as best as she was able. 

“Hey, hey, you’re okay, you’re safe.” She’d said, stressing the last word. “One of our guys found you in a supply closet and brought you here. He— He said you were half dead.” 

Pure fear and confusion kept your mouth shut. The girl kept talking, asking questions, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond to any of it. The pain in your leg hadn’t been of any help, pulsing and throbbing with every slight movement. 

By the time she’d realized you weren’t going to respond, she sighed and moved over to the kitchen to your right. When she came back, she placed some food and a tall glass of water on the bedside table, backing away slowly as she spoke. “I’m Denise. The man who found you, Daryl, is on his way to see you. Maybe you’ll feel more comfortable talking to him?”

The idea of speaking to anyone, even the man you vaguely remember before passing out due to dehydration, made your stomach roll. Still, you picked up the plate, gratefully digging into the food you were given. Drinking the water, you relished the feeling of it sliding down your throat. Water was something you hadn’t had in what felt like years, and you’d be damned if you didn’t cherish what you’d been given. 

As you finished up, the door creaked open, and your body stiffened. You watched a burly, reserved man step inside, his movements hesitant. You watched Denise approach, whispering something to him — likely about you. Presuming this was Daryl, you willed yourself to relax, even as you pulled your knees tight to your chest, arms locked around them. 

You watched him approach the bedside, standing awkwardly beside you as you looked into his eyes. Strikingly blue, surprisingly soft. 

“Hey. Ya alright?” He asked. His voice was rough, southern accent awfully thick. But his words sounded soft, somehow. Small. Like he was trying not to frighten you. 

All you could manage was a nod. He huffed, nodding back, clearly somewhat relieved that you were at least communicating somehow. You kept your eyes on him, tracing every inch of his face and his clothes. It was clear to you, though you were unsure of how, that he must’ve been built for this world. Daryl seemed out of place in this clean, crisp, white room, and when you pictured him in the woods, he seemed to blend right in. 

After a moment, he turned and went back to talk to Denise. They spoke in hushed whispers, and you thought back to the exchange you’d just had. Your mind had been reeling, so caught up in the entire situation, that the words Daryl had spoken didn’t register. And neither did the tingling across the inside of your wrist. 

Pulling down the sleeve of your shirt, your fingers grazed at the skin where the words you’d been waiting your whole life for the right person to say used to be. With wide eyes, you found the words gone, replaced by a slight scar of where they had once been inscribed. It was surreal, and definitely not the time. 

“Hey,” Daryl called out as he came to stand beside you again, voice still soft despite its natural roughness. “Doc said ya can leave if ya want. I know ya don’t know me, but if ya want… ya can stay with me. I got a cot ya can sleep on, if yer okay with tha’,” 

You mustered up a small smile, nodding at the man before you — your soulmate. You’d been wishing to find him your entire life, but with the world ending, you put that aspiration aside. You certainly hadn’t expected to find him when you were at the brink of death, trapped by the selfish people you’d once considered family. 

Carefully, you slipped out from the blankets, stumbling as you put weight on your injured leg. Luckily, Daryl caught you, wrapping an arm around your waist as the other guided your arm to rest around his neck. Wordlessly, you watched his cheeks flush red as he shifted his weight before you began walking. 

It was painful, getting to the house he lived in. Not because of your leg, but because of the proximity. Along with the fact that you couldn’t bring yourself to speak a single word, not even to him. 

As you settled into the large basement room he’d taken, he told you more about the community, about his people. The ones who lived here — Rick, Michonne, Carl, and Judith — were family to him. The others were the same, but they all lived in different homes. He laid out the cot as you sat on the bed, watching intently as his voice reverberated around the room, rattling your heart in your chest. 

“I know ya don’t talk much,” he huffed, rooting through a bag of his and pulling something out. “But ya can write, right?”

You nodded, watching a smile play on his lips as he handed you a notepad and pen. 

“Can ya tell me yer name, at least? So we can call ya somethin’ that ain’t jus’ ‘girl’?”

Smiling, you wrote out your name and handed the paper back to him. Your smile widened when you heard him say your name, meeting his eyes as he looked back up at you. 

“Ya can talk, right?” You nodded. 

Daryl nodded, leaving the pen and paper with you, just in case. “‘M gonna go find Rick, tell him yer stayin’ with me fer now. Alright?”

The thought of Daryl leaving you, of being alone, in an unfamiliar place, with no light aside from the window at the very top of the wall, shocked the fear back into you. As he turned, heading for the door that led to the stairs, your breath caught in your throat. As quickly as you were able, you reached out, grabbing the man’s wrist and pulling him back to face you. 

“Please, don’t leave.” You whispered, voice gravelly and strained. It surprised even you, eyes widening as you met Daryl’s gaze. But his carried a certain fear as his eyes tore from your own, locking onto the wrist you’d caught. 

Following his line of sight, your heart stuttered, watching the ink on his arm begin to fade into his skin, into the same imprinted scar of words that you had. 

“Yer…” he breathed, eyes filling with tears.

“Yeah,” you whispered, eyes watering, watching him as his eyes remained on his wrist. “Your soulmate.” 

Daryl pulled his wrist from your delicate hold, his mind on overdrive. He’d thought it ironic, that the apocalypse had only pushed him closer to his soulmate instead of further apart. And now, the words he’d been desperate to cover throughout his life were finally gone, and the woman that the universe decided was meant for him was sitting on his bed, saved from the cusp of death because of him. All because he couldn’t take his mind off the closet with the chair blocking the door. 

His hand came to his wrist, rubbing at the skin that was no longer tainted with words he thought would never be spoken. And despite all of the fear Daryl carried with him over the years, the gratefulness he had for the apocalypse and the relief that he’d never have to let down his soulmate when they saw that he wasn’t good enough for them, he felt none of it when he looked at you. 

All he could feel was happy. Relief, not that the world had ended, but that you were safe and healthy. 

And, all of a sudden, meeting your eyes, Daryl was okay with the idea of having a soulmate. All the words that had been spat his way growing up, all the times he was desperate to pretend like he didn’t have a soulmate didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was you. 

It would take time for Daryl to feel like he deserved you, he knew that. But you were here, and you were alive. That was enough for now.

Forever taglist: @mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @heliads

Daryl Dixon taglist: @katrina765 @hp-hogwartsexpress @ellablossom @alexxavicry @avabh12 (open!)

taglist form here!

[ruruumin]

the light of kshahrewar's sister

₊˚ ᗢ canon! alhaitham x kaveh's sister! reader.

⤷ if there is one thing kaveh wishes most, its that his sister does not date alhaitham.

the first time alhaitham met you was when you transferred into his class. having started in kshahrewar like your older brother, you decided to transfer to being a haravatat student. it might give you a great change of pace from your family’s insistence on keeping the tradition alive. the silver-haired boy said nothing to you during your first week, only brushing shoulders with you on the occasion when your professor had you seated right next to each other. for the majority of your first year, you hardly talked to the man, let alone knew he existed.

it wasn’t until kaveh graduated at the top of his class that you and alhaitham finally gave each other a warm welcome. alhaitham chose the humble occupation of a scribe while you chose to be a desert researcher for ancient runes. the two of you hardly saw each other after your graduation. but when you stopped by to visit kaveh, it didn’t take long for you to find out that the two of them were living together. 

to the blond’s horror, you and he hit it off quite well. with your professionalism and alhaitham’s stoicism, the two of you were a match made in heaven when it came to academics. you handled all the artistic elements and research while he focused on the calculations and logistics. you were paired together quite often. mainly because alhaitham was not the friendliest of students. and the only person who could truly tolerate him is you. 

your older brother cannot say the same. you, his charming little sister, who might have also tormented him as a child, should not be with his roommate! to think you’d get so chummy with alhaitham out of all people sent shivers down his spine. this was worse than any horror movie he watched as a kid.

while you may be indifferent, he was aloof. these were completely different things! you were a perfect angel and he's some kind of boar that came out of the pits itself. tighnari and cyno can believe it though.

they've seen the longing looks alhaitham has sent you. they've seen his fluttering touches on your hand. it seemed like kaveh was the only person in denial.

so kaveh spends his time observing alhaitham. as of recently, he’s been coming home later than usual. while the man gets off of work around 5 pm, he’s been coming back at 8 or 10. much later than he usually would be. and whenever he’s been gone, he always has leftovers for him. and each day it’d be from a different restaurant. almost as if he’s been traveling throughout sumeru to try new food. kaveh would have thought nothing of it until alhaitham came back with flushed ears and a faint smile. 

all of this was simply speculation though. there’s no way his roommate, alhaitham, the akademiya’s feeble scholar and formerly acting grand sage, would be in some kind of secret relationship with his little sister. it’s impossible. almost as unlikely as alhaitham being a sweetheart in any kind of relationship.

but it was beginning to be hard to deny what he’s seeing right now. 

tighnari and cyno had invited him to lambards for a game of tcg. a certain somebody was supposed to join, however he was nowhere to be seen. not until the doors swung open and you walked through. before kaveh could wave to you with a friendly smile, he stopped short as he saw alhaitham by your side. his ears were the same tint of red that he remembered. and his smile was far too obvious now that you were in front of him. your fingers were intertwined as he led you through the tavern, ordering you a bottle of wine for your anniversary.

it seems like kaveh’s worst nightmare came true after all.

⤷ tags:

@urmomsgf298