BOO + ANY PRNS. SFW BLOG. INACTIVE. INBOX OPEN IF YOU WANT TO CHAT & BRAINROT!
CURRENTLY PLAYING : ILOVEYOU BY BETWEEN FRIENDS <3
āļø A MASTERLIST AWAITS UNDER THE CUT ...
MATCHUPS ! [ CLOSED ]
CURRENTLY HAVING A COLLAB EVENT WITH @/STELLUMI !
LAST UPDATED : 01/10/24
REQUEST STATUS : [ 3/0 ] OPEN!
ALL WORKS CONTAIN A GENDER NEUTRAL READER. I ONLY WRITE FOR THE CHARACTERS IN MY MASTERLIST (WITH A FEW EXCEPTIONS), PLEASE DO NOT REQUEST FOR OTHERS. REQUESTING RULES.
DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORKS ANYWHERE.
a shallow wave ripples over your shoes. youāre wearing wet socks and denim rolled up to your knees in mid july. it smells like salt, and maybe smoke if you think too hard, and in the back of your ear, lyneyās teasing that his tricks are better by far, heād give you your own fireworks over the sea any day. if youād only just say the words.Ā
heās so predictable. he's always splashing water onto you, then darting just out of reach. but you know exactly where he is.Ā
āi told you iām not gonna,ā you say. those arenāt quite the words he wantsābut heās laughing anyway as you grab him by the wrist and throw him into the wave carving into the shore. your eyes never leave the horizon.
fireworks burst over the water. quiet inhale. a delayed boom reverberates through your chest.Ā
you donāt need visual confirmation to know lyneyās eyes dance with amusement. and thereās always something elseāat least, heās always been like that with youāsomething else within his eyes that pleads with you to look, glance over, dive head over heels into some murky space neither of you knows where.Ā
would you? you donāt like to think about it. you never do.Ā
you can sense lyney smiling to himself in mirth as he shakes his head, wringing out the hem of his shirt. itāll dry stiff and salty in a half-hour. āyouāre impossible. why wonāt you look at me?āĀ
āi donāt know what you mean.ā you say it with a bright smile. and thereās a lingering taste of melon syrup when you run your tongue along your teeth. lies like melon syrup. sticky melon shaved ice. a little crunchy.Ā
and well, you know exactly what he means. your teeth feel a little cold if you think about it.Ā
a singular firework shoots upāat this point it looks more like a shooting star. like a flying fish. youād wish on it if you had something you wanted. in the back of your mind you know lyney will, maybe for something like, love me love me love me.Ā
you hold your breath as you wait for the crash. it doesnāt explode. rather showers into gold and falls into the sea. fish flopping back into water. and maybe thatās a little fitting, for the two of you. a love that can be soft. a love, maybe not all there.Ā
āokay. but you know iād do it,ā lyney says. and the firework fades out behind a cloud of smoke. you think the boat should stop sending out low fireworks. higher ones are better. and it hurts to feel lyneyās eyes trained on yours. heās not looking where it matters. āif you asked me to,ā he says, his voice growing firm, āiād be yours forever.āĀ
yet when he says it again, his eyes feel soft. āso ask me.āĀ
you're not looking. but you know it. you hate when he gets like this. it makes your heart wince.Ā
āiāll do it,ā is what you decide on. and you think itās a little cruel, the way lyney brightens at your words. ābut you know you canāt.ā
lyney laughs. maybe heās a little stung by the implicationāyou remember him poking at washed up sea jellies with sticks. or maybe itās all in your head. with him, you can never tell.
āmaybe not,ā he says. and heās probably shrugging, that little half-shoulder one he does. with that loose grin tugging at his lips. the one that makes his eyes glow warm. ābut you never know.ā
a burst of color saves you from response. the ship shoots up firework after firework. the dark sea glows red. illuminates the black waters.Ā
like, sure. youād let lyney love you.Ā
because he likes to say things like that. after all, you love that. things like, youāre not like anyone iāve ever met. iāll choose you forever. iāll be sad when you leave fontaine. when are you leaving? well, it doesnāt matter. iāll visit you wherever home is.Ā
but thatās where it gets tricky. because lyney also likes to fall out of love whenever he feels like it. and whenever he feels like it is pretty damn often.Ā
thereās a flash of color. you sense it before it happens. heās dragging you by the hand, pulling you forward into the shallow wave starting to recede into the sea.
boom, boom, boomāand you can feel it in the sand sinking beneath your feet. in your chest when you point to an anemo shaped firework and lyney is gazing at you with a bemused look on his face, nodding along like youāve just done something adorable. in your heart when he wraps his arms around your shoulders and half-lifts you as another wave slowly swallows the shore.
āput me down,ā you laugh, half screeching as you swat at his shoulder.Ā
lyney obliges for a quick second, allowing your untied shoe-laces to dip into the water pooling across the sand. the dampness of your socks isnāt so bad. more refreshing. āif you say so.ā
āno donāt you dareāā
heās quick to laugh, a teasing smile twisting at his eyes. āthen hold on to me like you mean it.ā lyney smiles most with his eyes, is what you think. and youāre looking at him now, looking at him with wide eyes and lips twisted into a grin.Ā
you always thought itād be nice to make out beneath the fireworks. something casual. a quick kiss and dip. heād be a nice person to make out with. you wouldnāt mind.Ā
instead, youāre feeling a little exposed beneath the pyrotechnicsāa little like youāre offering lyney a feel of your heart as you hang your arms loosely over his shoulders.
āthatās not like you mean it,ā lyney says, and his voice is quietly amused. āyou know, for being so straightforward all the time, youāre not so honest.ā
ādo you want me to be?ā you say, and youāre gazing at him with an amused look on your face. āyouāll freak out. youāre not that honest either.āĀ Ā
lyney looks the most serious heās ever been. āyou know why. youāll get bored.āĀ
ānot if itās you.ā itās more of an inside joke between the two of you. āyou never bore me.āĀ
youāre interrupted by the shower of fireworks. itās a burst of gold that illuminates the whole sky. gold. shockwave. one after the other. for the first time, itās lyneyās eyes that look at the horizon. it quirks your lips into a sort of smile, watching the pyrotechnics burst like dancing flame in his eyes.
and itās like. you never really know the color of lyneyās eyes. someday they look gray, someday blue, someday a little violet. if thatās even possible. you always stumble over it. if you canāt remember something so simple about a guy, you must not really like him. it makes your heart twinge with bemusement. because tonight his eyes are gold.
āyouāre missing it,ā lyney says, and he reaches to gently tilt your chin up toward the sky. heās holding you with one arm still, and your laces dip into the salt, and your socks are damp, and you can feel the hem of your sleeves dripping with water onto lyneyās shirt.Ā
ādidnāt you want me to look at you?ā you say. but you oblige for once, watching the fireworks burst in the sky. the waves recede back into the sea. whisper of awe as the finale leaves the horizon lit up with smoke.
lyney puts you down. your shoes sink into the shore.Ā
ānot really,ā he says. āi just said it.āĀ Ā
you roll your eyes. your hands brush at the sand on your front, an exasperated smile tugging at your lips. thereās always a hollow sort of feeling when he does that. like someoneās blown all the air out of you. but itās expected. heās just like that.
āthe fireworks were nice,ā you say. āiām glad we watched.āĀ
you feel like a conch shell. washed up. one that lyney picks up and blows a melancholic tune out of whenever he wants.
you think he feels a little bad.
"don't say it like that," lyney says. and he reaches for your hand, urging you closer. satisfied, he lets you go. out of sight from the groups of people behind you, he unfurls his palm.
a little red flame shoots up between you to burst into embers of flame. it glitters and shower over his skin, and when you reach out in fear, you realize there's a warmth when the fire sprinkles over him, not a burning sear.
you glance up, stunned. there's an amused flicker in lyney's eyes. like, oh, you do care.
"i told you," lyney says. and his eyes are mischievous. a little teasing. a little soft. he keeps his gaze trained on the secret fireworks bursting from his palm, like little sparklers couples do by the beach. "if you asked me to, i'll do anything."
he can't help but be drawn to you again and again; you're intoxicating and he fears he has grown addicted.
feat. wriothesley & gn!reader
w.c : 1.4 k
warnings : physically intimate scenario but nothing happens , a result of me being touch starved lol
note : i'm back for a little (: this idea has been haunting me and i wanted a simple warm up.
the warmth of your quaint apartment is welcoming as wriothesley haggardly enters through your doorway, a sharp contrast from the cool night breeze that clings to the streets of the court of fontaine. the smell of dinner entices the duke further into your home, but his exhausted body yearns for something other than the food waiting for him on the dining room table.
his feet shuffle across the hardwood floors, not even bothering to switch any lanterns on as your home has been memorized from the countless number of times he has visited you.
you, his beloved.
just as your name echoes in his head, your head pops out from the hallway leading into your bedroom and your bright smile lights up the darkness in your abode, putting the moon and her gracious light to shame.
the humble apartment comes to life as the lanterns illuminate the living space and the patter of your feet against the floor is all wriothesley can hear before-
"wrio!" you call his name and the duke can already feel his muscles relax and the weight from keeping busy at meropide lift from his shoulders. as if by instinct, wriothesley opens his arms wide and he doesn't need a warning from you as he feels your body leap into his arms.
and despite his world now embracing him in his arms, the duke of the fortress of meropide feels the most at ease.
your feet land on the wooden floor of your home as your lover sets you back down, grounding you back to reality and yet your heart still feels like it's feather light as if you weighed nothing more than a speck of dust as you meet ashen eyes.
he looks exhausted from a long day's work; the silver eyes that you love so much drooping and the weary lines below his eyes a bit more prominent this evening. his usually tousled hair is messier than it usually is and your fingers reach up to fix it as much as you could.
the sea of midnight tufts streaked with silver, reminiscent of the galaxies you would see littering the clear night sky after the tears of the hydro dragon cleanse the land of fontaine, is soft to the touch and you wish you could play with it forever. your fingers linger down to his jaw, caressing the scars that have made their home along his face.
and you watch as the man who has seen what the world has to offer in the worst way possible melt into your touch as if it were the only safe haven he knows.
"i take it work was rough on you?" you ask your lover, a smile growing on your face as wriothesley sighs heavily.
"don't get me started," he begins, pressing a kiss into your palm. "i'd rather not talk about it and ruin my mood for tonight."
your lover stays true to his word as his hand trails down your arm; his larger hand encases your own and keeps yours glued to his face as your warmth encompass him. however, as wriothesley relishes in your simple touch, something about you intrigues him. it stimulates his senses, reeling the duke in closer to your skin. he can feel your body heat increasing as he buries his face into your palm before sliding to your wrist as the scent grows stronger.
it's sweet, a smoky, herbal aroma with a hint of fruit... was it sunsettias? or bulle fruit?
regardless of what it was, it's enticing to the duke and he found himself inching his face further and further into the warmth of your body. you find it ticklish the way wriothesley's nose skims up your arm from your wrist, inhaling every single inch of your skin to get more of the aroma into his system.
his touch is dizzying to you; the kiss to your palm already sending your chest ablaze and it only gets worse the more he kisses up your arm. each press of his lips against your skin sends waves of heat over your body but you find it hard to pull away from the intimate atmosphere.
"new perfume?" your boyfriend grumbles against your shoulder as he takes in more of the scent. what was it; the fruity smell is on the tip of his tongue and yet fatigue clouds his brain.
"n-no," you stammer out in a voice that wavers in strength. your free hand, the one not held in your lover's as his lips caress your skin again and again, grips onto the fabric of his shirt. his heat melds into yours as your bodies get closer in the small room of your apartment. "it's a new body oil i'm trying out from sumeru... does it smell weird?"
truly, wriothesley's actions are quite the opposite of that. if anything, this herbal scent clinging onto your body lures the supposed cold duke that oversees the fortress of meropide into your frame and turns him into complete putty underneath the mere graze of your finger.
if only the prisoners of meropide could see the duke now.
wriothesley feels your body shiver as he nears your neck with his touch. you're flustered, skin warming up and breath hitching, and as a result he pulls away from your body... only to be greeted by such a delightful sight; eyes wide open like a deer caught in the spotlight and your kissable lips parted in such a way that almost reels him in completely.
oh, what you do to him.
"far from weird, sweetheart," wriothesley murmurs softly, his voice a mere whisper, before he delves down again as temptation rules over his mind and his body yearns for your touch. his lips press into your own, the taste of his afternoon tea enveloping your senses; it's floral yet citrus hints make your head spin as his kisses caress your lips again and again.
wriothesley's arms have moved to hold your waist and pull you closer to him; the need to feel every inch of you on his own body is overwhelming the duke and he knows he won't be able to hold himself back for too long.
you're too intoxicating and the aroma that wafts from your body is only pulling him further and further in.
your lover pulls away from the kiss, but you've only a moment of respite before his lips press into your skin again. they trail from your jaw down to the crook of your neck. your body shivers as his warm breath fans across the expanse of your neck and yet you're far from cold.
it's ticklish the way wriothesley buries himself into your neck and you can't even pull away to compose yourself as his arms trap you within his arms; a prisoner in the fortress of his embrace.
"wrio, maybe we should call it a night?" your voice is barely a breath as you try to snap your lover out of his trance, not that you would mind where this would be headed to but... the moon was high in the sky and you know wriothesley would be even more exhausted the next morning should the both of you continue.
his nuzzles against your skin put to a halt due to your words and like an obedient lover, wriothesley pulls away with a tired smile. he leans down again but only to press light kisses against the apples of your cheek and forehead.
"sorry, darling," wriothesley whispers in the close space between you. his thumb has come up to gently rub across your cheek and his heart skips a beat seeing how frazzled you had become because of him. he kisses you again, but this time it's brief and light. "you're just too much for me sometimes."
"all i did was welcome you home." your deadpan manner makes your lover chuckle softly.
and yet as the two of you bicker late into the night, all the duke could think about was the solace that you bring when you're near him. the warmth in your smile, the comfort in your embrace, and the relief that you bring to him with just your scent alone is enough to bring his mind at ease after the taxing work hours at the fortress of meropide.
should the days toughen the duke even more than he already is, he knows you'll be there to soften and protect his heart with a simple touch.
OH MY GOD YOU GOT A CAT??? SHE'S THE CUTEST THING EVER AUSDBHAVDHAWE
also I MISSED YOU SO MUCH WHAT THE HELL. YOU POPPED IN AND WENT "BOO" LIKE šØšØšØšØšØ BUT HOW HAVE YOU BEEN???
- tired
YESSSS HEHEHE she is super cute like u š«µand her name is mika named after my fav anime character LOL
I MISSED U MOREEE AND UR RANDOM POSTS š«š« i really did pop back in like boo HAHA ive been great!! im on a road trip rn and thinking if i wanna write smth or not and if so for who š¤ HOW HAVE U BEENN MY FAV KAEYA KISSER
BOOOOO OMGKSKEKX I MISSED YOU SO MUCH I THOUGHT YOU DISAPPEARED ā¹ļøā¹ļøššš HOW ARE YOU MY BELOVED
STOP I MISSED U MORE THE WORLDS BEST SCARAMOUCHE SMAU AUTHOR EVR AKNFKAMFKND
im so inactive its crazy but i wanna be active again š IM DOING SO GOOOD HOW ARE U MY LOVE!! š«š«š«¶š«¶š«¶ i wanna hear everything omg it feels like we havent spoke in ages
the only major change ive experienced in my 6 month inactivity is getting a kitty hehe SHE SAYS HI!!! she also says ur super cute and gorjus and amazing mwah <33
THIS IS SO LATE IM SO SORRY BUT THANK YEWWWW YING!!! i adore u even more and i rlly cherish ur presence during our 2020 tumblr journey to now even tho im so inactive šš hope u have an amazing bday and continue to have amazing days for the rest of ur life šŖšŖšŖšŖšŖšŖ
alhaitham x gn!reader. hurt & comfort, fluff. reader works at the akademiya and is pretty badly treated by most people for some reason. alhaitham reminds you that you are loved by him !!!!! ā” . reader is inspired by me ( dec 26 bday + peanut allergy + prone to bouts of anxiety ) ć based off my own interpretation of how alhaitham loves. ć wc 2.5k.
ask around the bustling hub of sumeru city, and the native dreamers would often describe being loved as something mesmerising and captivating ā like a kaleidoscope, twisting and turning enchantingly in hopes that the beads would fall perfectly in place, but it never always truly does ā it is endearing and a lesson for the lovers all the same. the messy beads twirl and turn but there is just some reason why they canāt get enough of it.
the thinkers talk about love like an anchor dragging you further and deeper down into the depths of adoration and affection and infatuation;Ā to them, there are often few clear differentiations between sinking into love and drowning in it.
for alhaitham, however āĀ love is natural, like the cycle of growth of the dainty flowers and wild grass beneath his feet. a swanlike, enchanting piece of music that flows from your violinās bow ā with the right person, it is as natural as breathing.
but for alhaitham, however ā love is also... unnatural, given his lack of experience. he has adoring fans, he has scholars singing his praises and piles of handwritten letters from secret admirers commending his mind and aesthete ā but he has never loved before, not until you.
the first act of love. listening, when nobody else will try to.
alhaitham is a wonderful listener. if you ask him, heād say that he prefers listening, even āĀ he is content to hear all that you have to say, however nonsensical or ridiculous you sound to others. the scribeās work is simple, so he never truly minds ā to sit quietly with a small smile on his face while you talk his ear off about anything and everything āĀ that is what love is, you are sure.
āhey, iām sorry.. this is just too much right now.ā you know they use this as a replacement for you.
ācould you tell me another time?ā another time will never come.
ājust keep quiet, archons! do you ever shut up?ā no, iām sorry. i probably should.
alhaitham watches from his office as your heart breaks with every unwilling individual, each choosing to walk away while you tore your heart out, still bleeding from your ribcage while laying the offering bare at their feet. how could a human being be so cruel? there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ āĀ yet you believe you cannot make it speak because they do not choose to listen.
ā...i believe you hadnāt quite finished your story from the last time we met.ā he speaks plainly, eyes glistening āĀ with pity or with eagerness is something you donāt wish to distinguish. let it be the same, lest the heartbreaking realisation that he is just like the others.
āyou remember?ā you ask cautiously. please do, i canāt bear to beg anyone anymore.
āi do. that day about your old neighbourās dog escaping into your garden. youāre welcome to continue, if youād like.ā
he watches your eyes light up as you trip and stumble over your words, quietly surprised and eager to please. there is a soft feeling in his chest āĀ a warm, weighing feeling nestled in his ribcage.
the second act of love. remembering, when it feels like no one else does.
it is no secret that alhaithamās mind is incredible. highly intelligent, closely observant, adept at noticing discrepancies ā any researcher would fight to have him take a spot on their team. he is good at remembering, you think to yourself ā alhaitham remembers everything ā the things youād grovel at someoneās feet, to remember the slightest thing about you, for, and everything you wished the world forgot. him remembering everything is incredible ā whether that be a good thing, or not; is another.
āwhenās your birthday again?ā your co-worker taps his fingers against his chin, looking through the sheet of office birthdays.
āitāsāā
ādecember 26th.ā alhaitham walks past, not looking up from his notebook.
you and your co-worker stare in silence. he...
āyeah, december 26th...ā you catch a glimpse of the silver-haired scribe around the corner. he remembered. even if it was just an offhand comment about how funny you found your birthday to be right after christmas. he remembered.
āhuh.ā your co-worker shrugs it off, noting it down on the list as if nothing happened.
something happened. you feel something warm blossoming in your chest āĀ warm, comforting, lovely all the same. a tender, sweet feeling like the heavy blanket on a rainy day that attempts to capture your heart in your throat and keep it captive forever; there is so much you want to say to alhaitham. itās nice that he remembers ā out of all your friends ( was he a friend? ), who could confidently say the date without thinking twice?
āi believe those are nuts. if i recall correctly, arenāt you allergic?ā the next time you see a glimpse of his silver hair, alhaitham peers into your bowl of noodles. nuts ā how comical it is to think that such a small, minuscule digit could potentially cut off breathing for you.
āi thought i told them ... perhaps i didnāt.ā you mumble, hurriedly spitting out half-chewed food into your tissue. you stare tiredly into your bowl ā surely you remember letting the waiter know that you had an allergy.
āyou did.ā
before you could even turn your head to reply to his reassurance, alhaitham flags down the same, tired waiter. he trudges to your table, serving tray tucked between his arm and body.
ācan i be of service?ā
āexcuse me, i believe we mentioned earlier that they couldnāt have nuts.ā alhaitham stares at him in the eye, glancing briefly at your bowl with spat-out nuts beside it. the waiter grabs it, letting out a soft sigh of frustration.
āyou are a service professional, are you not?ā alhaitham interrupts the languid movement; yet he does not break the stare.
āsir, i am just a waāā
āmy apologies. are you are a paid member of this establishment?ā
āi am.ā the waiter nods in quiet submission. it is better to shut up than to argue with a man who loves.
āyou understand the laws regarding a customerās health and safety, do you not? even if itās tiresome, if they had gone into an anaphylactic shock here in your cafe, i believe it would have been a matter of time before an investigation is launched and a lawsuit is filed.ā
you hear alhaitham soften at the word they. they. you. you are important enough to him that heād quietly, but fiercely rip into the waiter over your allergy. (alhaitham wishes you felt important enough to care about your health instead of apologising for not speaking loud enough.)
the waiter steels himself and takes your bowl back to the kitchen without another word.
āthank you,ā you turn to alhaitham. āthat meant a lot.ā
you show him a soft smile, and alhaitham feels a wave of silent thankfulness wash over himself ā that you sit before him, wearing a bright and sweet smile and not a pained grimace from struggling to breathe, on your features. he feels the same warmth in his chest once again.
āyou donāt need to thank me.ā
alhaitham remembers, even when it feels like no one else does.
the third act of love. holding, when your skin feels achingly colder.
alhaitham does not strike people as a touchy person; his love language is not physical touch. touch scares him a little, even. the thought that a simple loving gesture could be twisted and morphed into a threatening hold scares even the most intelligent and strong of men āĀ but he is human, and that is enough for him to appreciate lingering touches on his back as and when he needs and wants to.
he sees youĀ ā fingers twitching and rubbing against each other, clumsily tapping against your palms then scrunching inwards āĀ you need touch. you need to be held. it was as simple and as crucial as breathing. your fingers press in inwards of itself, and he watches the colour recede and return once again as you loosen your grip.
ācome here,ā alhaitham gestures, wrapping your hand around his. thereās something comforting about how your hand is smaller than his; itās not that much smaller, but itās smaller all the same. if you curled yourself up even more, perhaps youād be able to fit into the palm of his hands.
ādonāt do that. youāll hurt yourself.ā
ādo what?ā you look at him quizzically.
āi wasnāt sure if you were unaware, but you tend to self-soothe and search for touch.ā he sighs quietly, absent-mindedly stroking your purlicue as he turned back to his book.
āalthough i believe you search for it too much. press too hard, and youāll start to feel numb.ā
āah.ā you stare at your hands ā the left, which he holds, and the right, resting on the cool table.
āthank you.ā
āi said before, there is no need to thank me. if it is a simple matter regarding your well-being, i would doāā he stops himself. anything, is left hanging in silence.
āi would be happy to resolve that matter.ā
even holding you? would he dare hold something so shamefully broken?
āthank you...ā you close your eyes. he hesitates; just once.
āyou donāt sound pleased, nor satisfied. was it something i said?ā you hear his voice soften.
no, itās not you. you shake your head quietly, resting your head against your right palm on the table.
āitās alright. you do not have to talk if you donāt wish to.ā alhaitham replies. you feel him smoothing your hair back ā a touch so soft and tender, you can hardly believe it to be for yourself. it was intoxicating; his touch lacked lust, full in loveā you have never been loved (loved?) like this before.
you feel slightly warmer now.
the fourth act of love. comforting, when there seems to be no one in your corner.
āi just wanted them to be different. just this once. is that too much to even ask?ā
alhaitham holds you tightly as you sob and lament; he holds tighter than he ever has before, and he mourns. he mourns for the walls you had slowly built up over time dawn with the realisation that it had been justified all along; alhaitham knows how hard you have begged for them to be unneeded.
āi know.ā
you hiccup, ducking beneath his arm tiredly āĀ and he holds you gently. he holds you, arm resting on the crook of your neck as you rest against a pillow on his side ā he holds you like he has done it all his life. fitting yourselfĀ ā not small but not big ā into his frame, alhaitham thinks, may very well be the most natural thing the world has brought him.
āthey had no right to treat you like that. iām sorry.ā
āitās not your fault.ā you sniffle.
archon, it hurt. you were going to get hurt in every lifetime, you know thatā no, you deserved it. that has been etched into your mind since day one of starting your work. that was just who you were. the poor, miserable corner-sitter who had nothing else to do but correct their own mistakes. no initiative, no ounce of thought. why had the akademiya even hired you if its own people despised you?
āyou donāt deserve to be hurt over and over, you know.ā
how did he know?
āyou said that aloud.ā
you mumble a soft sorry, and he replies, shaking his head.
āit isnāt your fault,ā alhaitham echoes your previous sentiment, almost teasingly.
āi believe youāre smart enough to figure that out.ā
before you look up at his tousled hair to reply, you feel a soft kiss pressed to your forehead.
a kiss.
his kiss.
āif you find them still bothering you, come and talk to me. the scribeās position is ā it may not be much ā but i know with my place within the akademiya, they will listen. i promise you this,ā he holds your warm hands in his broader ones.
āif they do not stop, i will leave. i have no regard for a company that will not protect its own workers.ā
he wants to say a company that will not protect you, but thinks otherwise. perhaps it is too much right now after his impulsive kiss āthat is the one thing that alhaitham mulls over. he has never been impulsive before; always thinking through and filtering and being rational and all the things that makes alhaitham, alhaitham. being impulsive is not a trait others describe him by.Ā
so why, youā?
the fifth act of love. loving you, even when you believe people cannot.
ābecause he loves you, and alhaitham cannot, for the life of him and even with all the overbearing advice from kaveh and more bearable guidance from nahidaĀ āĀ he cannot put it into words. for the first time in his life, alhaitham stumbles over himself, words tumbling out like love letters hastily shoved into a sack with a cut into it.
āwhat is so special about me? youāre always here, alhaitham, yet you never grow sick of me.ā
he finds himself caught off guard when you ask suddenly, caught in todayās throes of insecurities. your words hang cautiously on your tongue like a snake waiting for the moment a displeased reaction appears ā whether you hiss or hide, is something alhaitham feels a modicum of curiosity about, pulsing, and pulsing, until he tries.
āyou-ā
there are too many things that he can think of, he feels. nahida, give me strength.
āyou are- you are kind. and generous. you have a heart for people even when they do not have one for you.ā he starts, slowly.
āyou listen intently, and you enable people to open and talk. they talk because you listen and you support them with all your soul and it is so evident that you love.ā
you want to cry.
āi admit i am not good with words, but you deserve every vow i utter tonight. you love so loudly, and you feel no shame for it ā you have inspired me, and i dare confess that there have been many times i have desired to pull back, out of worry that i have felt the distinct possibility that i was about to fall in love with you.ā
oh. you blink as if that hasnāt been obvious enough.
alhaitham is deeply and madly in love with you.
āi love you, not only because you are special, but also because i believe you deserve every ounce of love i can retrieve from myself. i know it has been made clear to you that others do not feel the same way, and it hurts to believe that some of it has come from those i know ā i promise to be differentāā
āyou already are, alhaitham.ā you feel yourself choke up. love is entangling itself around your trachea and holding you hostage, never letting go.
āyou have never treated me with the same contempt. i love you, i know you return my feelings and for that i am thankful. iām sorry that iām not an easy person to love, please...ā you trail off, feeling his body collide into yours. alhaitham holds you. he holds you, hand on your back and the other cradling your head against his shoulder.
āi want to love you,ā he whispers into your hair.
āplease let me.ā
so, about loveā
ask alhaitham? you see a soft smile adorns his features as he mulls over the question of what love is to him. love, forever yours, evermore.
⤷ to be loved by genshin men who appreciate art forms ā where their favourite piece of art is you. a series where you, the reader, are their muse. let them love you in the way they know best ā their mastercraft. this is a reupload + additions of my work from my previous blog.
⢠genre and warnings
⤷ comfort, fluff, slight angst. in some chapters, the reader is insecure and has low self-esteem ( hence the reassurance ) and there will be mention of physical appearance, but it won't be gendered at all. dialogue can be jane austen-like because i wanted to try something out, so i apologise if it sounds ooc :')
⢠chapters
001. THE PAINTER, ALBEDO
002. THE POET, ZHONGLI
003. THE PHOTOGRAPHER, DILUC
004. THE WRITER, ALHAITHAM
005. THE SINGER, CHILDE
006. THE DANCER, WRIOTHESLEY
007. THE SCULPTOR, KAVEH
008. THE ACTOR, LYNEY
009. CONCLUSION.
⢠notes
⤷ 8 chapters of fluff, reassurance, hurt and comfort! ! ! !! ! not all chapters have insecure reader ā just a warning. all chapters will be ranging in length from a 400 ā 700 words! it's fairly short, but it's not meant to be very long ... i think . this is a reupload of some of my works āĀ chapter 1 - 4 has already been posted before so don't worry if you see something on dash from i23kazu that looks similar. spotify playlist.
⢠taglist
do comment on this post or send an ask to be on the taglist!
Ö“ ࣪š¤ 2024 @xianyoon do not plagiarise, translate, or feed any of my works to ai.
summary: you find out just how much your students have been meddling in your love life, though you canāt really be mad.
notes from lee: iām afraid to make this look like an award acceptance speech so ill be brief. had to make a fic for the namesake of the blog and a very late hbd to boo (@2018-01-20). kinda wish i had more interactions with the kids, but i ended up w/ a lot of gojo pov also unedited
Looking back it should have been obvious what these kids of yours were up to. Yes, they were the reason you were in this god-forsaken closet with a blindfolded fool.
Youāre only really aware of their meddling now as you hear their snickers from the hallway, so you canāt quite tell when their meddling started. But it makes sense that they were plotting something, but was it in collaboration with Satoru? Because it seemed like every mishap or coincidence between your two classes, Satoru took it in stride and turned it into his advantage. Just like he was taking advantage of the situation nowā¦
Thinking back, your first clue should have been with the sticky notes. A note scrawled on a pink sticky note, in actually legible handwriting, addressed to you like a valentine. Reading, āfrom: Satoru ;D to: (y/n) <3; do you look this good every day or do i just not remove my blindfold enough????ā Itās on top of a stack of papers handed over by the ever-stoic Fushiguro. Surely to get your guard down, and it did.
When you interrogate your fellow teacher about it later, he keeps his normal all-knowing grin plastered on his face. Now they, being the kids who orchestrated it, donāt need to do any work as every day after that thereās a new sticky note somewhere for you to see. They vary in color, most in some shade of pink, some with bad pick-up lines, others with a stick figure drawing, or the very rare ones hidden away with words that make you spit out your drink.
Or maybe another tip off should have been the ācoincidentalā times youād have the second years out on the training field and he just so happened to also plan a demonstration for the first years at the same time. But then again you donāt hear their snickering above your irritation at the white-haired man as he lets you jab a finger into his chest, with his annoying smirk.
But they notice you donāt care anymore that he peeks his head over your shoulder to look at your teaching outline just so he can do the ācoincidentalā planning now.
And still the biggest hint that you fall for every time, is when they leave you at the cafe with just Satoru after begging for a weekend meetup. And again, when they ask to have team dinners, study sessions, or extra training, it's ridiculous. Your gullibility and trust in them is commendable, but itās become laughable as you still trust in the kids to show up. And they do, just in disguise from across wherever you are as they watch Satoru come to your rescue every time.
Maybe the more ridiculous part is when the rare glimpse of their teacherās eyes is pointed, peeking through their poorly crafted disguises, at them from across the room with a smirk.
Heās noticed for a while now that the kids are playing matchmaker, and their skills are much better than those his clan hires. And to be honest, he doesnāt mind, if anything he finds it cute that they think he needs the help. Though admittedly they do have some good ideas. Each one never fails to fluster you, in your own cute and angry way, as he takes over their schemes. His six-eyes catch the flurry of texts sent every time he does so, which heās sure just encourages them further.
Satoruās not quite sure when his feelings for you developed. Heās always found you attractive, especially when you were his cute kouhai (he still likes to call you that in order to annoy you until you begrudgingly call him senpai once again.). Everything he learns about you only adds to his initial interest. Heās a sucker for getting to know the little things, like your favorite dinner spot after a tough mission or what your ideal day off is. Once you accept his feelings heāll put the knowledge you deem useless to good work.
But thereās a moment that sits so starkly in his memory as the first time he realized he was in love with you and not just intrigued or infatuated.
It was maybe around the time Tsumiki had gotten sick and though Megumi was self sufficient, Satoru didnāt feel that he should be alone. He knows heās not the best at comfort, hell he could barely comfort himself, so he sends you.
And heās not overly worried about you, youāre a teacher so heās sure youāll get through to the ever prickly Megumi just fine. Plus youāve always been significantly better at handling emotional situations, he knows first hand. So when he comes to check on you after finishing his mission, he smiles at your success.
Megumiās head rests on your lap, asleep, and youāre slumped over the armrest. Thereās a twang of jealousy that pricks at his mind, wishing it was him in your lap instead, but all he can think about is having you greet him as he comes home and Megumi and Tsumiki sitting for dinner and that would be yours and his alone.
Heās never felt like someone that would settle down or want a family, especially given the circumstances of his status. But you, in this moment, make him want to move past the shrewdness of the higher ups and his clan, and just have you. He longs for something that is just his, not part of Jujutsu Society, the higher ups, or his clan, or even Satoru Gojo, he wants things just for Satoru, just for him.
You are that something, that someone, he wants, heās convinced that he needs you like the air he breathes. The weird surge of emotions that have been kept bottled up since a dark day suddenly seems to make sense and it has a name, itās love.
So when heās reminiscing on his feelings, it really has been there all along, but itās that very specific moment in which his love for you was defined.
And the apex of all his work in gently guiding you to realize your feelings, that heās very sure are there, is in a closet of all places. His blue eyes glow dimly in the dark of the closet with the snickers of his students on the other side.
āHey,ā he breathes out, much less confident than he intended, but you make him nervous.
You meet his bright eyes briefly before looking away and returning the greeting, āUm, hi.ā
His breath hitches and his mind blanks, every funny line or flirty remark he could make right now is gone. He canāt think about anything other than you, how cute your expression is, how good your hair looks even slightly messed up, but mainly your lips and how much he needs to kiss you before he leaves this cramped closet. āHow are you?ā
You blink at him incredulously, āWeāre in a closet, Gojo. How do you think I am?ā
He tosses his head back and groans as you use his last name, he thought heād gotten you to call him Satoru like pretty much everyone did. āCāmon (Y/n), you know I hate when you call me that.ā He whines and pouts, jutting his bottom lip out like a toddler.
He watches the guilt flash across your face briefly, surely itās you remembering how he confided in you about hating the weight that came with his last name. āSorry, I know. I know,ā you pause and he senses your hesitancy and waits, āSatoru.ā
Heās got a big shit-eating grin on his face that differs from his usual smirk as he rocks on his feet with his heart fluttering.
āYou really like it that much when I call you āSatoruā?ā You ask, eyeing up his body language with a skeptical look.
āMaybe.ā He answers in a sing-song tone, heās back to his usual self, āBut you know what Iād like more?ā
He leans in close and glances down at your lips. No matter how many times he does this, it always results in him pulling away with a teasing smile. So when he feels your hands wrap around the neck of his uniform and pull him closer, itās certainly a surprise.
āYou want a kiss?ā You ask and he nods meekly, if possible, and you do, you kiss him. Satoruās eyes flutter shut as his heart flutters in his stomach. His big hands reach up to cup your face and keep you glued to his lips. Gods, itās everything heās dreamed about and more.
When you part from him to catch your breath, heās smiling. āI hope you know I want much more than a kiss.ā He waits for you to breathe and to watch your reaction before smashing his lips onto yours again.
Satoru feels your arms wrapped around his neck and how your hands crawl through his undercut to tug at his hair. And heās similar, the hands once holding your face have traced down your body to your hips so he can hold you close.
The knock on the door cuts your time short, your tongues and bodies having to part. Satoru watches as you smooth over your clothes and hair before he pulls up his blindfold. The door opens not a moment later to reveal the two classes waiting with bated breath to see something scandalous.
They are disappointed, fortunately for you and your image as a teacher. None of the students have the time to catch the heavy blush on his face as he slips away while you lecture them. But they do notice how flustered you are when you get a text from Satoru, ādinner 2nite?ā
HI BABE I DIDNT KNOW KT WAS YOUR BIRTHDAY AND I FEEL SO SO BAD SO ONCE I GET THEOUGH MY CLASSES THIS WEEK ILL FINISH UP MY SATORU WIP AND DEDICATE IT TO YOU PROMOSE AND IF I DONT YOU CAN YELL AT ME TK FINSH IT
ILY SM I HOPE YOU HAD A HAPPY BIRTHDAY AND THAT EVERTHING IS GOING WELL
first of all THANK U SO MUCH?!!?? ITS OKAY LEE PLEAASE DONT FEEL BAD OMG šš IM SO SORRY FOR ANSWERING THIS SO LATE BUT WTF ILYSM i literally just logged back on today and oh. my god. UR FIC IS MAKING ME KICKK MY FEETTT I CANTTT.
EVERTHING IS ABSOLUTELY GOING WELL AND UR FIC MADE MY WHOLE DAY š«¶š«¶š«¶ pls scream at me w caps anytime i love it so much THANK U THANK THANK U LEEE i literally hope you have the bestest day ever bc u deserve it and also now im in incredible brainrot for gojo satoru because of ur beautiful writing i cant anymore man
the way u write dialogue OHHH GODDD i just swoon. lil old reader making the big strongest man tall superman gojo satoru shy is EVERYTHING TO MEEEE U SONT UDNERSTANDNSKMQKFM
literally. these 2 lines bro are my absolute fav i could not stop kicking my feet and rereading it over and over i am now going to tattoo this across my forehead ???????? lee what have u done to me ?????? just the little phrase "but you make him nervous" and "um hi" is so freaking cute it speaks literal worlds holy moly
AND THE LAST LINE BRO ALMFLAMDKAMDM THE WAY HE TEXTS its so silly and annoying i hate him (liteeally blushing i can tnaymore)
players, you know the rules. the game lasts till 26 jan 10pm gmt+8. sabotage each other, make new friends, form alliances, break them, create bloodshed! it's up to you. contact me if you have any queries.
the rules.
the game will run from 19 to 26 january 2024 ! it will be hosted by me :)
participants are not allowed to interact with their original biases. their original biases do not exist to them during this game.
reblogging things with / directly responding to things that contain your original bias' / their name will incur a strike !
participants may reply to asks containing their original bias' name, but must not say it / describe the bias in any way.
sabotaging others who have the same bias is allowed , but you are not allowed to say the bias' name, or describe them in any way. they do not exist to you. if you can figure out a way to still sabotage someone who has them... you're most welcome to.
participants have 3 lives ! with each strike, one life dies. 3 strikes, and the player loses the game.
during this ebg, you can earn points by creating things about your assigned bias. (eg. if my assigned bias is kaeya, and if i write something for kaeya (200+ words), i'll get 500 points!)
tag me (@i23kazu) when you create something! i'll assign you your points. each piece of work is standard with 500 points. use the tag #genshinblr january ebg 2024 so that i can track it better !
players and non-players are allowed to sabotage each other with asks . a list with everybody's original biases will be released ! please go ham !
non-players, i am counting on you to help me check on the players !!!!
yes , you are allowed to reblog the original bias list post at the start of the game even though it has your og bias name on it . reblogging it midway through the game will earn you a strike .
url changes are not necessary , but theme changes ( if it has your original bias ) are ! players are given 24 hours to change their themes , if their original theme is of their original bias ā only when the game starts . after the 24 hour limit is up , players who still have their original bias as their theme will earn a strike . if your original theme is not about your original bias, there is no need to change it .
players who lose the game will earn a forfeit that will have to be performed at the end of the event ā”
about points.
500 points are awarded as a standard for each creation. for writing, it should be 200 words minimum, and for art, it should be lineart minimum. for edits, it'll be at my discretion! each piece should have some effort put into it āĀ not just created for the sake of earning points .
players can use their points from creations to strike people ! each strike costs 1000 points . each player is limited to one earnable, redeemable , and giftable strike each day . just send me an ask to strike someone !
players will be able to spend 2000 points to heal themselves as well ! the heals have no limit per day ā as long as you can fork up 2000 points, you get the heal !
for 2000 points , players can redeem one hour to be free from ebg , starting from the period of time when i approve the redemption . the hour is consecutive and cannot be split up into different periods . this one hour can only be redeemed ONCE in the entirety of the whole game , and has to be approved by me first before starting the period . if players start the hour without me knowing, they will earn a strike .
āāā chapter 6 ! ~ your friends are here ! (oh no)
summary; when you, a waitress at the local coffee shop, are paired up with the new recruit scaramouche, youāre pretty sure both of you are going to get fired within a week. heās just quit being a social media influencer and after being forced to work here to make ends meet, heās ready to let everyone there know how much he hates it. the worst part? you canāt shake the feeling that you know him from somewhere. but as he slowly warms up to you, scaramouche realises that having a fresh start isnāt that bad after all, and perhaps the two of you meeting like this was pure serendipity.
a/n; HIIII sorry it's been a while š anyways i really like this chapter, i added quite a few things that weren't in my original plan to hopefully link the future chapters better, so i hope you all like it hehe lmk what u think!
warning(s); one (1) kys joke
previous.āmasterlist.ānext.
please reblog w comments ! it helps a lot :)
( y/n's phone )
groupchat !
twitter #1 !
twitter #2 !
private messages !
( scara's phone )
groupchat !
( kokomi's phone )
private messages !
scarayn the sillies... i love them ahhh,,, also i'll let you guys decide kokomi's intentions for yourselves hahaha