This is Going to Get Interesting

22 | way too addicted to genshin bulletin board kaeya's survival rules kaeya’s gossip box

[inheritedeyepatch]

kaeya lover aka nessa. 22. she/her

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[yinses]

all and half pt. i

in which your fate intended is the one person you can achieve true pleasure from 

pairing: modern au! alhaitham x fem! reader, minor kaveh wc: 10k+ (i wrote over 70k+ words for genshin alone last year, that's crazy talk) rating: mature 18+

a/n: so we have two people to thank for this. 1. @mystic-sky rescued my sanity with this fic. i always worry about characterization and plot sense. she's actually the culprit who got me into genshin so really it all started with her. and she made me tear up a bit so here we are. 2. you guessed it, @mediocrityexpert who never failed to mention this man at all opportunities with pictures included until i became the simp you see now. this fic is meant to be her wish banner charm! hope this story brings as much joy as his homecoming

you had a plan. 

a simple and easy one-step outline that was meant to be fool-proof for a lifetime.

avoid your fate intended and you wouldn’t have any problems 

the idea of connecting with another living being on a level of complexity assisted by the archons would be thought to be a spiritual venture. except the very gods who wrote the lining principals found more value in physical compatibility rather than soul binding merit.

it was proclaimed, since what is thought to be the beginning of teyvet, that an individual's soul would be tied to another through the carnal utopia found at the peak of an orgasm. scholars liked to believe that it was a forethought with intention to cultivate the proliferation of humanity; but you like some just inhaled a little too much meditation incense.

if you never reached true nirvana then there was nothing for you to compare it to. thus, you could go about enjoying the frivolousness of life and it's untethered freedom. 

there was something to say about 'true love' when your soulmate could only be found at the peak of an orgasm. they say for those who have had sex in the past that nothing is commensurable beyond that. you don’t even have to love the person. the sex is just that good. 

apparently it’s the worst for virgins—never knowing what came before and rarely having the courage to experience anything less. 

the idea of soulmates was a broken concept of love. ruining stable relationships for the desire of an infallible sexual experience. to think fates were willing to reduce passion down to its most carnal physical form and bind people to it. 

it was the forbidden fruit for some. 

or what was left after it fell from the hands of celestia.

you weren’t in a relationship; had nothing to tie you down. but you refused to have your body hijacked by one person who could only rock your world because of erotic devine intervention. 

it didn’t make you easy by any terms, just determined to always have a taste for what else the world had to offer. 

there was good sex out there.

mind blowing, leg numbing sex.

and not everyone needed the most expensive cake in the shop to achieve satisfaction. 

and that had been the testament of your life thus far, until today.

you were there, edging over the line you’d come to know like a second home, when it all just stopped.

the sheets shifted as the figure hovering above used his hold against your headboard to halt the progression of his hips.

“sorry, i just can’t.”

and the dessert began to crumble.

his face pinched in a way that was far from sexy, “it’s not you.”

of all the times. 

“i just thought it was all myth and legend you know. it wasn’t possible for one person to hold the key to your sexual awakening, right?”

and now he was pulling out. no, no, no. you head hit the stale fluff of your pillow with a thump. 

“or maybe it’s just you-.

you found flimsy satisfaction thump in the sound that came from knocking the second pillow into the blonde head of hair.

“okay, okay. not you. it was great before. but now it’s just—“

archons.

groaning into the mattress, you accepted that the mood was beyond repairable, left to simmer in the rustled sheets and sticky wetness connecting your thighs. honestly what was fate thinking ruining a perfectly good thing. 

“you don’t even love them, kaveh.” you grumbled out crassly. maybe it was a little insensitive. but it was true.  

he’d run into them on a whim, no more bound to you than you were him. it had only taken one night and and a short consideration to make a difference it seemed.  kaveh had once he was a pessimist like you; willing to stick a middle finger to fate and find your own asylum without discovering the road paved out for you. 

the two of you shared stories, marking your own sexual discoveries while exploring ones of your own. you could have married him. 

maybe. 

eventually, possibly, after accepting that you had unearthed all you could from your back- and other various positions.

were you selfish to deem it unfair ?

you’d taken a chance. you filtered through all the variables in an attempt to beat the odds. only to have it slapped in your face. and they even took away your orgasm with a last hoorah. 

“it’s fine.”

it wasn’t. 

well, you would move on. he was the best so far but there were plenty of fish in the sea it seemed as if he caught a bigger one, so to say. it wasn’t the least bit awkward as the two of you gathered your clothing, less of you as in the comfort of your own home you were comfortable in just a shirt and panties. 

an old shirt of his in fact. 

the last of your collection. 

he has the nerve to actually look guilty at the door and you can’t bring yourself to weigh him down any further. 

“hey, we were in a mission to find all the wonders of sex. be happy you get to clock out before your dick fell off.” the pat on the shoulder you give him feels lacking, but you had to stretch to get there so it wasn’t without effort. 

his lips split into a small cautionary smile. 

“hey, maybe yours is—“

no. nope. no evil spirits in your house. 

all hospitality leaves you as you press and prod him through the door. just because he was content didn’t mean you were ready to accept the deal. 

“don’t let your next orgasm send you into a coma. baby steps, kaveh.” 

he laughs like you expect him too, waving you off with a wider grin as he departs, likely to slip into the bed of his dreams. 

and now you were left with an absent orgasm and one less reliable partner. 

great.

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it’s funny how something so soul binding can’t even be properly taught in school. it's wholeness left for young people to discover on their own experience and limited research on the subject available to the general public. teachers spoke lightly on the topic of becoming one with another through body and soul.

the only interesting thing to come from joining the akademiya was dissertations being written as close to erotic novels. 

you convinced yourself to take it easy-ier over the last few weeks since kaveh's unforeseen retreat. you were not that desperate for a good lay and fate would end up handing you want you didn’t desire if you weren’t careful. so instead of your usual nightclubs and after hour ventures, you found yourself wasting hours in lighter pubs. 

maybe not completely losing time. a decent drink and sound music was as good a stress reliever as any. 

relaxing into the bar seat, you manage to keep from losing your balance. the lack of back support seemed like a latent encouragement of chances of falling to the floor, but you were only two glasses in at the moment. as your fingers traced the edge of the glass in languid circles, you wonder if you should just call it a night. 

it had been quite awhile since you’d let yourself wander into bars. back in your early undergrad days, it had been in the accompaniment of friends to alleviate any stress built up over the semester. it was safe to say you’d matured a little since then; or at least discover an alternative that was just as satisfying. 

but then kaveh had to go and ruin that. 

it was as equally frustrating to admit you were both dissatisfied with the abrupt departure as you were pleased it ended before it festered into something too entangled for you both to escape. though 'finding your soulmate ‘ route was still well outside your expectations.

nearly a year ago, your introduction to kaveh had been fortuitous. he was a graduate, senior to your status, but a frequent of the akademiya due to renovation projects. he had been a pretty face, an easy distraction when his latest construction was near the vahumana school grounds. 

all it took was a pair of wandering eyes and a few smiles to strike up a conversation. after a cursory drink here and there and a night out of fun, the kindling chemistry began. 

it had never been an intention for either party to make it more than that. one shot too many had kaveh confessing about his mountains of debt that put him in direct servitude to the akademiya. 

and you had no desire to date either, at least not while the sages were still prickling your nerves about research. but you also were willing to admit that you were getting a little too old to be bar hopping for a night out.

kaveh fit comfortably in the midst of both criteria. 

he was a reliable lay and it helped that lately it took effort to run into one another. he was always focused on a new project and you spent more time in the library than your own apartment. which was ironic, because the majority of your ‘meetings’ occurred at your place rather than his. 

something about a belligerent roommate. 

now he was out gallivanting in the desert in the pursuit of creative inspiration; an interesting metaphor when he was towing his newest obsession along for the ride.

but apparently that was a thing of the past as you found yourself in an establishment that was better referred to as a tavern than a bar, or at least one less frequented by akademiya students. the campus bars were always full and bursting with a cocktail of students and occasional faculty members. it was a dangerous mix of egos and alcohol. 

it was why you found it worth it to venture to port ortmos on occasion to the habour tavern. the lack of boisterous music was nice, but the atmosphere was empty of intrigue. not to mention the place hardly offered a promising selection. not a favorable gift of wine, and top shelf liquor was hardly in their vocabulary, let alone supply list. you decided eventually not to waste time trying to explain the ingredient of a zaytum sunrise. 

a sigh tickled you lips and your shoulders sagged an inch lower. really there were more pressing issues than laminating over bed partners. you were rapidly approaching the end of your scholarship, making you one step closer to your dissertation. which was still a prospective theory with no hardened evidence worth presenting. 

it took something akin to guts to challenge the age old belief of soulmates. in sumeru, it was the equivalent of a religion and you stood as the outsider throwing rocks at the stained glass chapel.

what you believed wasn't meant to be interpurted as hate, but clashing ideology tended to paint one side as the villain in order to raise the value of the rest. 

you didn’t want to topple the pedagogy, but be given the opportunity to confront it fairly. but with a theory so widely supported in droves, it was no surprise that no one took it seriously. the akademiya hadn’t even blinked when you had proposed it, not threatened in the slightest. 

nor had you wanted them to be. all you wanted was to be heard and given the chance to provide a new perspective. 

your mentor had been rather agreable about the matter, offering encouragement and diffusing tension in equal bouts. but they also had their concerns, more so for your future than the present. 

though not insistent on deterring you, they often hinted at your growing fascination in conservation and rejuvenation of old practices to save the future. the histories of the past often held secrets for the future, they liked to say. vahumana was as proud as any house, determined to make their mark on the world and the research that gave it life.

but you liked to argue that the past also had plenty of mistakes as well, a shaky ground to dispute your soulmate theory on but one worth grasping all the same. 

“maybe i should just summerise my conservation efforts,” you grumbled audibly, reluctantly tipping the ice-melted drink down the back of your throat. it was the easy way out.  the more practical route with postgraduate application as well. 

discussing soulmates with anyone felt too much like a religious sermon. the emotional process was part of the passion needed to drive the evidence behind the dissertation. half of the presentation was to comfort the audience of your opinion and you had plenty to say on the matter. 

cutting your gaze back over your shoulder, you gradually took in the atmosphere of the tavern. it was small, likely a family owned heirloom passed down generations, a homey style that you’d seen quite a few bars back in the city try to replicate. frankly, it was dusty, cracked and you missed the appeal but it seemed popular with the quieter population. perhaps not as full tonight, but most tables were occupied by one or two patrons. sensibility correcting your wandering gaze, you reluctantly trained your eyes back forward. no need to garner anyones attention, there was hardly anyone here for that kind of late night ventures. mature men were a stark difference from akademiya students. you shudder off the imaginary thought of a stranger’s touch. 

eventually you set your glass down for the last time, signalling the bartender without a word as he rounded back to check on you. in their approach you considered balancing one more round on your psyche. it’d been only been your second glass, watered down at that. you’d linger longer if need be to sober up. but archons, did you just want a glass of wine.

you parted your lips to initiate the order, the bartender not far away to request, but then his gaze was snapping beyond you. a slow tilt of familiarity formed his lips, followed by a polite wave. mannerisms encouraged you not to turn your head, but curiosity was a painful pinch. it was almost too difficult to resist. you were grateful when the bartender moved for you, not even perturbed when he bypassed you for a few seats down. 

the quiet bustle was still too heavy for the distant conversation to carry. idly you twist at the mini straw floating along the melting ice as you way.  

it took a few more moments for the bartender to return to you, an apology muted at his lips but you shrugged it off, sliding the glass closer. “just one more. no ice.” he gave his affirmation, the soft smile still lingering. you weren’t piqued by his brightened service. he’d been nothing but amicable to you, but it was something to take notice of. 

the moment his back turned, the burning itch came back. just a peek. everyone got first looks, it wouldn't put you on the spot. you was sure it was nothing you hadn’t seen before but now you had to be certain of it, the tethers of inquisitiveness pulling at your gaze. 

okay, well you definitely hadn’t seen that. 

he was certainly something to observe. the first thing that caught your attention was his musculature, mainly the girth of his arms that were propped against the bar as unaware of the potential interest they could draw.  not to say it was the first time you had been impressed, but he was filled out in a way that tore a page out of a different volume. you had grown use to the leaner builds at the akademiya. 

but it wasn’t just his build, his presence alone took up so much space it was already hard enough to miss him without that silver threaded hair. he held an air of authority that felt strangely familiar yet foreign in the port. 

the click of glass against the counter brought heat to your cheeks as you were caught, your head whipping back to attention. “thank you,” but he was already gone, moving on to the next attendant. 

you filtered through a quiet breath, pretending to be engaged by your phone with spotty service. at this point you were nearing an issue you weren’t ready to admit to at such an early stage. while you were comfortable in saying you could go quite a while without kaveh, the eccentric architecture; kavrh jr’s absence was starting to have some drawbacks. 

to think the bastard was possibly warming someone else’s bed while you refrained from tempting your own. what you refused to believe was that it was the best time of his life. you brought that man closet to the archons than anyone could. 

yet here you were siting alone in a tavern nearly undressing a stranger after hardly a few weeks of no intimacy. what were you thinking even considering the idea? the bartender floated neatly around him but aside from that he hardly gave the impression of being approachable. 

archons ... and weren’t you just imagining how uncomfortable it would be to be approached by someone from this bar. but technically weren’t you one encroaching now? had this been just another city establishment, for one you’d have some proper wine. but at the very least you’d usually just talk. if the receiving end didn’t like it, then oh well, you weren’t circling them like they were the sun.

so he wouldn’t be any different.

besides, if you didn't say anything now you’d be running scenarios of this moment until you really did go insane. you dreaded the thought already. 

you were slightly attracted to him- okay, pretty attracted. and you were still a young adult, it was the season of flings and one offs. surviving your final year at the akademiya thrived a little excitement. cutting your eyes sideways, you recalculated your chances. maybe he-

“if you have something to say, say it. your flittering is just as distracting.”

if warmth described you before, flames were dancing beneath your skin now. the man wasn’t discreet in the slightest, not caring who listen to the exchange. or maybe he was speaking to someone else- oh no, he was looking at you and he was not very intrigued. for a pause you were caught by a churring sea of turquoise. 

you stumbled over deliberation shortly before a new emotion countered the transition. weren’t you just accepting cutting losses? if he was lacking interest then what was the point. 

against your internal will, your lips pulled into a scowl at the potent irritated disinterest in his voice.  “yes, because i’m sure it’s me that’s distracting” 

well, that was not exactly how you intended to start this whole scenerio. playing hard to get was already a slippery slope and your face of indifference was faltering. you could see it mirroring back from the look of reflection on his face. or maybe that was just him contemplating the consequences of just leaving. or maybe he was truly in with the owner enough to kick you out. 

for another moment it looked like he might just, and then something shifted. he reached for his glass again, the amber colour much like your own but in a higher volume. the amount of his intake challenged yours as well, or so you would have noticed if you hadn’t been so entranced by the movement of his adam’s apple. 

“-students.”

what?

you caught the tail end of fostering chagrin but you knew you were rapidly eating up his reserves for patience. really, he could have just been here to relax, not get harassed by some akademiya scholar. 

the man stared at you for a second longer, then scoffed. “apparently the standards have dropped. what school are you from?”

“i…” you trail off, feeling a little nonplussed by the implied merit. “vahumana.”

he hums, a sound audibly dry with scrutiny. “the study of history and the past of our predecessors. fitting to dig into the business of others as you cant seem to mind your own.”

you narrowed your eyes at him,” and you must have been haravatat.”

he huffed in amusement and reached for his glass, the rim tips against the tilt of his lips. he didn't diffuse your assumption. “why's that?”

“because only you would be so far up our asses to know what business we were sticking into.”

there was a smile, but the tone was serious. “cute. what year?”

“final.”

“good. any longer and you might have become unbearable.”

you shot him a look of rebuke,”those same standards would imply that you got kicked out.”

“aw, its adorable that you think we’re held at the same degree,” he said. “i’m afraid i simply out grew their expectations.”

you scoffed. he was so stupidly cocky. “uh huh.” you prepared to turn away when he chirped back, amusement bleeding into the heart of his motive.

“done biting already? didn’t think you would bend to authority so quickly. but i suppose akademiya students know when to fall in line.”

you shot him a chiding look. he came across as tall but the way his torso seemed to stretch even seated. it would have been impressive enough without the additional bulk that added an unfair amount of definition to his clothing—attire that had speckles of familiarity in both its design and colour scheme. 

“you work for the akedmiya.”

he watches you silently. allowing you to work through the calculations. he obviously wasn't a teacher, you would have at the very least heard of him by now especially since he was confirmed haravatat. he had maybe a year or two on you,  just enough to be an established graduate.

looking back now, he did look a bit distinguished. the fine details of his clothing hinted equally at quality and prestige. though the material was tighter to form than usual robes, but you would admit it had it's own unique sense of flair. still it didn't give the full answer you were looking for.

“that’s all you can differ? disappointing.”

“if i’m so unsatisfying, why bother holding a conversation?”

he gives you a look over and you realise you weren't the only one noticing a few things. he was just more subtle.

“with your mouth closed, you’re mildly appealing.”

you could barely resist the roll of your eyes. “funny, most men would say they might prefer it wide open.”

“you must have a lot of soulmates with that kind of confidence.”

this time the effort was for naught as you turn away. 

“oh, sore topic?”

his voice carried despite the action, a touch more smug. 

“well i’m assuming your odds of not finding your true partner are promising enough.”

surprised into reacting, you twist your body in his direction. it was an odd choice of words given the subject. it almost felt as though he were implying something.

“i have your interest then?” 

the intrigued man angled his body towards you leaving you no room to misinterpret his attention. “we both agree that there is physical attraction. and though i doubt i need more points, the likelihood of us discovering the epitome of pleasure is a low possibility.” the offer  is so blunt as he roves you over with calculating appreciation, but those eyes… that blue-green fire-

don’t find that arousing. he’s being a dick.

feeling a bit unsettled by your desire, you averted your eyes briefly before raising them back to his handsome face. you had never once considered yourself weak, the spirit alone strong enough to challenge the akademiya worth its weight in mora. 

pure stubbornness was your greatest defence against a lot of things. 

but temptation was a trial fought time and time again. 

he read your resolve like an open book and finished his drink in an impressive swallow before rising to his feet. he waved down the bartender with a quick hand and then put down a few notes of mora with the other. he walked with intent, hardly harbouring an inch of reprieve in any direction. whatever he was, this was his hunting grounds and he set his sights on you. 

your mouth was dry, glass still untouched as you visibly shuddered under his shadow, “i’m not some easy student-”

archon be willed, you denied yourself the privilege of running your sight down the length of his arm as it benched securely between you body and the bar. there was a smart smirk on his face that you hadn’t witnessed yet, a challenge that you’d be dragged through whether you wanted to or not. “no, you’re just spun too tight and could benefit from new lesson.” 

you parted your lips to rebuttal but he silenced you with a hum. “i’m not going to play the role of some authoritative figure you desperately need. you can either come along or play games with someone else.”

a streak of heat crackled along your nerves at the rawness of his words. to be honest, he looked absolutely done with your presence but there was a primal edge of something you couldn’t place rooting him there. whatever drug him down to this bar was still devouring away at him, tightening his defences to the peak of stress. 

yeah, you bet he could use a stress reliever alight. 

your eyes slipped close as a low groan escaped you.

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it had taken you an embarrassingly small amount of seconds to fork over common sense as you hastily scrambled to procure payment, only to have your attempts overrun by another careless slip of a few bills to cover much more than you had spent that night. it was no wonder he was so popular here.

he didn’t just walk like he owned the place, it certainly seemed like it as he guided you out of the door with a firm hand at the small of your back. not one pair of eyes crossed your paths and from the corner of your own you witnessed the bartender already moving to clear your spot. 

a minute later, you were outside in the slight chill of the nighttime air. but where you were expecting the man to hail a car, instead urged you along the cobble-stone path.

“you live in port ortmos?”

“is that a problem?”

“i just …”

he lifted his chin slightly, “expected me to live in sumeru city? no, i stay there enough for work.”

you hum thoughtfully at the new information,“so that’s why the bartender was so familiar.”

“or maybe he just likes me.”

“or maybe he just likes your money.”

“why are you so sure that i have money?”

it takes effort not to mention the cash he’d tossed so carelessly onto the table top. there could have been one too many stuck to gether, but he had not even paused to check. instead you gesture marginally to the fine clothing stretching over the girth of his arm.

“well at least i know you're only after my body.”

“it's certainly not your personality,” you respond flatly. 

“you would prefer the bigger of the two.”

you click your tongue and look away, determined not to snort at the smooth jest.

the short trip ends when he taps his key fob against the entrance of a modestly built apartment complex overlooking the port. 

“anyone you need to inform of your nightly ventures?" he breaks the silence as he hits the bottom for the elevator to jerk into motion.

it occurs to you with no great pleasure that he was indeed right. you had followed the man with only the speculation that he was part of the akademiya in some capacity. at least you had confidence that he hadn't drug you to some seedy part of town and as long as the bartender didn't sell you out, there would be an evidence trail. 

still you shot off a quick text to a friend, letting them know of your location in the port.

“good girl.”

you scowled to which he returned the gesture with a broad smile.

fortunately, the elevator door opened before anything more could spark. he stepped out first, leading you four doors down before unlocking it and flickering on the first light available. he waved you in with a nod of the head. 

if he was a secret murderer, he was one with good tastes. from the entrance, the home opened up into a modern looking living room with panel windows hanging high above the quiet streets. to the right, an impressive kitchen held more appliances than you even knew what to do with. you assumed the final hallways led down towards the bedroom and other accessory rooms. overall, it was quality living. something to dream of after finally graduating from the akademiya. yet it still did not offer anything more of his position. 

overly curious, you ask, “what is it you do again?”

he smiles, all mischief, “i’m just a feeble scholar.”

the man expects your scoff, lip curling higher as he vaguely gestures to the darkened kitchen,“i’d offer you a drink, but then i’d have to cut the night short. i don't sleep with drunks.”

you shrugged off your jacket, folding it over before lying it on the couch. “i’m not a lightweight.”

he tucked his free hand into his pocket, “but you’re in my home. house rules for guests i’m afraid.”

his shoes echo off the floors as he walked towards you, teasing closeness until you stepped back in turn. a second later, you were backed against the wall connecting the kitchen to the hall.

you swallowed hard to control the nerves flaring under your skin. it was infectious with the way his eyes travelled slowly from your eyes to your lips. he was shameless, continuing down past your collor bone to the subtle swell of your breast until the weight of his gaze dampened your breaths. 

eagerly, you arched your spine,” how else do you treat your guests?”

his eyes retuned to your face,” i suppose you’ve earned that much.” he shuffled closer and trailed his thumb along your jawline, then leaned in and kissed you. his other hand came up to cradle the other side of your face as his lips tugged gently at yours before coaxing them apart. 

then his tongue slips into your mouth and you whimper. its an embarrassing sound that pulls a reaction from him as he breaks the kiss. 

he’d never been close enough before to take in the spicy smell of his person, an additional spritz of expense. something about it burned your nose from this proximity, like he was activating too many of your other senses to not notice. his hands were hot and heavy as they groped at your body, following the curve of your hips and testing the weight of your breast. 

his tongue lapped at your neck, each action only a span of minutes already accumulating a pool at your core. 

you just wanted to kiss him again but he seemed to conveniently remain out of reach. to test it, you craned your neck again only to have him counter by nipping at your ear. 

“did you come to that place just to get laid, sweetness?”

you were beginning to edge away from the dry tone of his voice but he had yet to be proven innocent from the other assumptions. blood finally returned to your hands, rendering you with the ability to move as you grappled at his own body, lavishing in the not so hidden display of muscle. “did it look like it?,” you eventually responded back. 

that earned you another nip, obviously not the answer he was looking for. it wasn’t a gentle one either. the sharp bite of it was still echoing through your nerves and ripping a yelp of arousal from your lips. 

“i just wanted a drink.”

he bit you again. 

you quickly wailed out the truth of the matter, a short sentence about your growing frustration before waiting for another reprimand but the firm pressure of lips responded instead and you sagged into the warmth of it. you dared to ask the same of him but you doubt you had enough strength behind your teeth to get him to comply. 

his pace was ruthlessly, hands sliding and discarding clothing, certainly not interested in prolonging the moment. 

“you’re going to miss that attitude when i’m done with you.” 

the weight of his words should not have produced the reaction that it did. but god did it make you so wet. this man would probably fuck anything. and everything would let him fuck them. 

you’re grappling on to his bicep, meaty muscle probably tenderised from long hours at a pricey gym. he loops one of your legs around his waist, leaving the other standing to allow more room for himself. his fingers are dry when they first touch you, though not for long as they absorb the slickness your body throws at him wantonly. a thumb tweaks your numb and your breath hitches into a pant as he curls two thick fingers into you without warning. 

his face remains refined but his touch is explorative, teasing the spongy walls as he stretches them to their limitations. “unexpected debut but not a bad way to end the night.”

you wished his words would have less of an effect on you, the dichotomy of them and his touch making you out to be a blushing virgin. 

and he keeps talking. 

“akademiya girl, huh? bet you think you’re so smart. “

you keen lowly as he introduces a third fingering, forgoing rudimentary scissoring to just plunge them into your depths. you arch against his hold bucking with no ground to stand on. his hitches your leg higher as a reminder, threatening your barely there balance. 

“look at you, all spread out for me. i said what five words to you? did they not teach you manners? a lot has changed.” he presses with the intent of stretching limitations, and you’re grateful for the debauched ministrations. science and biology taught you more than enough about anatomical proportionality. 

“no resistance. you’d let me fuck you for less wouldn’t you? ” but with the way words just kept off his tongue without preamble, you were nearing certainty that he’d ride the glide of your channel without much resistance. 

he works a hand up the loose material of your shirt, sending your bra into disarray as he tweaks a nipple sharply. the pain is acute, shuddering through your body like a ripple. your groan rolls into a soft hiss as he does it again, enunciating  the action with words. 

“i asked you a question.”

the pressure returns and your body squirms. it's enough to plunk the strings of obediency as your mouth is quick to answer.

“yes!”

his fingers rip from you, cutting the strings of your impending release and you hear the tell tale signs of a belt jingle. the material of his pants shifts, but unlike you they never leave his hips. 

“fuck.” he frees himself, af the musk of him permeates the air. it’s almost intoxicating, urging you too look but you fight the urge. “i knew it. you came to that tavern looking for someone to bit that edge off.”

 you don’t have to, because he’s pressing into you thick and hard and your walls flutter around him. with efficiency, he hitched your last standing leg up as well, leaving you suspended at his mercy. “good thing i came in, i bet you were getting unbearable to your little friends.”

the wall reverberates against the knocking of your body, the offbeat staccato telling any nosey neighbours all they need to know. that's if they weren’t already use to the frequency of overnight guests.

“just needed a few pumps to set you right. “

you tilt your head back and his immediate reaction is to latch back onto your neck, no doubt intending to bruise you both physically and mentally. he’s not immune to his own sounds, grunting through explications with each thrust. archons, it’s so hot, feeling the weight of him dragging over the wet hole, soon to be coined as a delicious ache before the night’s end. 

it’s uncertain if he drew blood, the sticky wetness of your throat a toss up between the possibility and perspiration. 

his name. you need to know his name. desperate to whine it, cry for it, tattoo it onto your tongue. you ask as much of it without realising. 

-haitham. 

you’re supposed to learn of it so soon but don’t disappoint the expectation following the admission. 

“my name is alhaitham.” his name rolls off fluidly and you bite down to savour it before it’s gone.

your head rolls back against the wall, mouth parted for air as your eyes squeeze shut. your breast rise and fall with each hurried breath as alhaitham pins his focus on the thrum and the heat of your clit. 

he’s back at your throat, nosing against the constrictions as your voice strains high and desperate.it was dominating, overwhelming, and even though you could accept that you enjoyed it, you still couldn’t understand why. domineering had it’s attractive qualities, sure, but it was arguably a delicate matter. one that took a fine tuned perspective to account for any aversions and hone in on the pointes of gratification.    

and he knew.

“you looked so pretty at the bar. i’m almost grateful you were so nosy. now you look even more gorgeous. pinned against my wall like a painting.”

a shower of sparks rain down over you and cracks open the door to the flash of lights stippling the dark behind your eyes. you rock yourself forward until it becomes clear that you’re fucking yourself on his fingers until theirs both slick and resplendent with your essence. 

it should be the end, the cut off of your journey but the trip feels like it's leagues long until the horizon breaks and you’re no longer anchored to the terrestrial spear but floating within the realm of celestia. 

he removes his fingers slowly, excruciatingly so, and smears your release over your clit and skin. your nerves feel as delicate as your bones feel weightless. 

you're fortunate that alhaitham is close enough to catch you as you all but collapse against the wall, feeling like someone—no your fate intended—removed all the bones in your body. cheek pressed against his chest, you inhale the scent of his skin while wondering if this was the exact feeling kaveh had. it was indescribable. like you were racing toward the end of days, on the verge of expiring by your own inability to call back the breath that alhaitham had stolen from your lungs. it's a dichotomy of wonder and fear as you come to terms with a terrifying realisation. 

you want more. 

alhaitham lets out a throaty hoarse sound when you bury your hands in his hair and tug at the thick base. he presses his lips harder against yours, determinedly set on devouring you with teeth and tongue if he can get away with it. in turn, you wrap your legs back around the already familiar notch at his hips and squeeze, drawing your front flush against his. 

his erection remains hard and insistent. it’s enough to make you sigh happily against his mouth, arousal blooming above her navel at the promising orgasm it will provide. 

“i want you,” you gasp between kisses, cupping his cheek with one hand while the other continues to pull at his hair. 

alhaitham grunts again at the action and sneaks a hand down between you two to cup your wet mound. two fingers press up, spreading your spend and is immediately reward with another sweet hasp from your lips as he teases the sensitive nub. 

archons, just the faintest touch of his fingers against you is enough to drag back the reminder of the shattering kaleidoscope until the only thing you can think of is him—alhaitham— with either his soul-binding fingers or his cock buried inside. you don't care if it's a repeat performance or something new, as long as you come. 

the truth is so palpable between you but alhaitham has sense enough not to mention it. instead he dips as his arm slips under your knee to pull you into his arms. he walks you towards the darkened hallway where the door at the end opens into his bedroom.

alhaitham pulls at your clothes and you let him, sliding them down until you’re left with nothing and reaching for his. he follows you onto the bed, bracing himself over you. he lowered his head to kiss you, holding you still as he ravishes your mouth until you’re forced to break apart, breath haggard from the effort. 

you blink blearily up at the broad shoulder hovering just by your nose as you resist the itch to squirm. the grip holding you down had lessened dramatically in the last few minutes, the weight of trust holding you still. a soft sigh tickles your lip as his forehead rolls against yours, light and nuzzling.

“you’ve finally lost some of that attitude. that is good. you’re doing so good,” his voice is less dry, holding warmth and reverence for compliance. your head tilts up to seek his lips again, craving the gentle touch and the taste of exhalation.the sharp edges of thoughts fade away, leaving only room to consume and receive. a reward comes in the tweak of thick fingers returning to your apex, twisted deep within you and curling for purchase. in return, you sigh into his mouth, pleased, as you rock into the affection.

“think you can return the favour? let me see what all the fuss is about?” his smile savours the flavour of saccharine, both appealing and intoxicating and you find yourself nodding in acceptance without cause. alhaitham knows he has you anyway- always had- you’d crawl for his mercy if just to have a a taste of the nirvana only he could give you.

he feels the motion of your nod, pressed so close,” i’d like to know what it’s like. feeling your open mouth, the sounds of your gasp as you choke on my cock. ”

his hand remains low, twisting within you as your own rides the length of his body. it’s a stretch, but you manage to brush against the underside of his cock, tracing the thick vein protruding against the surface. your heart thrums, seeking his praise even as his hand leaving you and his thighs shift upward until he hovers at your face.

the heat of him bobs from the movement, tapping your lip and smearing its tackiness. his hand cards through your hair, rumbling veneration as you lick it away then open your mouth to stretch around him.

alhaitham’s hand, girthy and wide, teases the nap of your neck, forming a brace without asking. the rhythm of your tongue is met with a heavy groan of approval, the volume increasing as you swallow around him. the coordination of suction is breathing is an erratic dichotomy but you managed- for him. your mouth continues to caress him as he grows, hips beginning to undulate in aid.

“you’re going to swallow it all, aren’t you, sweetness? for me?” he’s curled over you, blowing through harsh pants as he coaxes another inch down your throat. it still lacked the depth that he would have wanted, but you would still make it good for him.

tears bubble behind your eyes, though not from pain, from sacrifice as you nod once more. it’s still an impossibility to take him to the hilt, but with passion you come close. swallowing the bitter taste of him until the taste of it is tattooed on your tongue. it’s a musky bitterness, thick with salt.

his voice is but a whisper, rolling against your ears. “yes, sweetheart. make me proud.”

you splayed your hands against his thoughts, fingernails digging a little into the skin there but alhaitham could care less. in fact, you dared to say he enjoyed the pinch of pain. it most noticeably shattered his ability to prologe his release as his eyes closed and he allowed the orgasm to surge through him. 

this close, it was impossible not the notice the intense ripple of sensations as his nerve endings sparked with a powerful wave that had his knees trembling above you. just when you feared he might topple, he leaned back, rolling to the side and combing a haggard hand through his hair. 

then your eyes connected and the truth you’d damned up inside, burst forward, barrelling through your defences and overwhelming you. 

this man. alhaitham was your soulmate. this stranger whom you’d let take you home, ravish you beyond your wildest dreams and given you an core shattering orgasm that you were still reeling from. alhaitham who had come to lean in closer than you realised, must have come to the same conclusion as his mouth sealed over yours. 

the featherlight caress of your lips to his made your body yearn for something more than one-sided release, the promise of coming together as one—

a sudden feeling of panic gripped your gut as the final dreads of your euphoria dripped away. scrabbling for your bearings, you nudged at him until he had no choice but to pull away, leaving you more exposed than ever. 

alhaitham’s face was flush with exertion, eyes to feverish but his face was unguarded with uncertainty. 

“are you alright?”

no, you definitely were not and you wouldn't be until you got home. even then you likely wouldn't be okay. you never would be the same after tonight.

“i should go—i shouldn’t have—i just need to leave.”

your heart seized with the sudden ache as realisation weighed down on you. this was not how this was supposed to go. not at all. you pushed yourself off his bed and onto your feet, hastily scrabbling for your clothing. 

alhaitham picked his movements carefully as he straightened up on the bed,” it’s fine if you need space. i know this is a lot but it’s late. you should stay the night.” he gestures out out the door,” my roommate is gone for the weekend, you should take his room.”

but you were hardly listening as you pulled your top over head and headed for the door while working your arms through the sleeves. despite his offer, you continued past the adjacent door until you neared the entrance. 

alhaitham’s steps were heavy as you followed behind. his hand came to your back to steady you as you hoped from one shoe to the other until they fit snug. 

“you are overwhelmed and it's too late. you're not thinking clearly. i don't want you out in the city like this.”

you turned on him before he could finish, “you don't know me. just because were—you—,” you guested widely between the both of you. “this doesn't change anything. “

reading the room, the man carefully held up his hands in surrender. it should have been a commercial sight for a man of his stature given his still nude state. 

“okay, okay. just wait, please.”

it’s the agreeableness that gives you pause. its give him just enough time to round the counter of the kitchen and rummage through one of the doors.  he spares the time to bring a pen to it. when he returns, its with a small card.

“i’m not asking for anything. but if you want to reach me, here. i wont seek you out. but you know where to find me.”

whether he was referring to the tavern or his home was vague. but the look in his gaze wasn’t. no matter how much he tried to hide it, it was there … the expectation. 

you turned away and opened the door, clutched the cardstock in your hand as you hurried to the elevate and punched the downward key until it blinked and the doors opened. you threw yourself inside, not looking back not when the doors closed but until you were free of the building and ducking into the hailed car. 

fucking kaveh, it should have never ended this way.

it had been quite a long time since you’d felt anything remotely shameful after a night in bed with someone new. with kaveh it had never been an issue as he’d wormed his way into a positon of comfort before he’d ever reached your bed. 

the both of you had decided that you enjoyed the fragile lining between friendship and something more, confident that neither would seek out the unknown. he was focused on his growing list of projects to offset his student debt and you were still trying to make the most of your own expenses into your education. 

it had been a simple arrangement that you had been forlorn to see it unravel. but you couldn't put stocks into blaming kaveh forever. he certainly had not led you to the bar housing your soul mate and had no ploy in getting you into their bed. 

no the blame had been solely yours. 

you had barely been able to look at your reflection in the mirror, finding it all the more damning to written the swollen redness of your lips and early signs of hickeys dotting your throat. there had been no point in examining the rest of your body as you slipped into the shower to wash away what you could. however the ache of his presence remained seeped into your bones even as you fell into your blankets.

there had been one too many unsuccessful attempts to silence your mind, your more reasonable half having a field day over-analyzing your choices. 

eventually you'd given up on sleep altogether in favour of squinting against the glare of your phone. if you were going to be riddled by guilt, the best thing to do was to spin it into a web of evidence. for months, you had been trapped trying to craft a damning theory to challenge the damn-near will of the gods. 

and in return they made you into your own attestation. 

in your initial presentation, the sages had challenged your theory as one-sided, some even edging to accuse you of envy. at their age, it was difficult for you to speculate if one or any of them had found their soulmate. there was no rhyme or rhythm to discovering your fated partner. 

some discovered them early, others had to wait until their last breath. 

but in the city of sumeru, where the god’s will was paramount to divine expectation.

if anything the only thing worth of your envy was the free state of mondstat where the country had thrived under their archon’s guidance to seek out their own fate.

it was a plausible dream but sumeru was your home.

closing your eyes, you leaned back against the flatness of your pillow. but behind your eyelids, however, were the lingering traces of last night’s memories etched there. it began with those blue-green eyes, then the image panned out to reveal the entirety of alhaitham, broad and defined in ways built from a fantasy. 

hissing out a sharp curse, your eyes snapped open to shatter the visage. 

it was starting to feel like a never-ending joke. why could it not be as simple as falling in bed with an attractive man. 

you’d barely typed out a sentence before you eventually gave up, signalling defeat with the snap of the device closing. rubbing your eyes, you kicked the device to the edge of the bed and sprawled back against the bed. 

hopefully tomorrow would bring forth a more concise mindset.

|     ⚘⚘⚘      |

you woke several hours later tangled under a sea of blankets and the lingering taste of zaytum peaches. the faint glow of sunlight coming through the window indicated that it was sometime in the afternoon. instinctively, you rolled over to reached for your phone, heart stuttering at the feeling of hard cardstock against your fingertips. 

there had been no effort made to forget about what had transpired less than twelve hours ago, nor was it meant to be a rude awakening. those thoughts were better suited after a shower and something to eat. 

for now you roll out of bed in pursuit of the bathroom, mint taste and burn of mouthwash would help restart your day on a better note. you considered a second shower as well. the heat and steam was always a nice balm on a clogged brain, always helping to clear your head and think. 

the promise of peace lasted about as long foam forming from the slow drag of your toothbrush against your teeth. it didn't take very long at all for your mind to sink into reality; the fog dissipating somewhat as you realised with dread that this would not be something you could avoid without some confrontation. 

alhaitham

the name did not come without an overhanging cloud of density. it was a weighted thing, something of a reminder but you could not figure out the source beyond the stranger you’d met at the tavern bar. 

it was fairly customary name in sumeru though your tallied occurrences were low. perhaps a stray soul at the market in passing but nothing of significance. it had been an akademiya joke to place him in harvata without truly knowing, purely inspired by the natural flow of banter. 

but there wasn’t an alhaitham currently part of the darshan that you knew of. to be frank, when the name alhaitham came to mind it was only accompanied by occasional whispers in the absence of a highly regarded graduate and now scr—

your brows rose with each fragment of proof as realisation dawns with nauseating clarity. the soothing shower quickly becomes a brisk wash as you will your mind to calm. 

you were so stupid. so so stupid.   

spitting carelessly into the sink , you stagger through your strewn clothes as you return back to your bedroom with renewed vigour. the card you had tried to forget was quickly snatched up.

alhaitham kaysani 

grand scribe 

he was that alhaitham. the name bringing forth sobering clarity that had evaded you while post-orgasm. you had only known him in name, never having the opportunity to meet him. he wasn’t just faculty, he was damn near a sage after his achievements and one of the youngest to get so close. 

and he was your soulmate. 

snarky

callous 

rational

these were all phantom rumours stitched into the reality of the man you’d come to witness. 

but he was also dominating

attentive 

and responsible when baring you to the world and unravelling you at the seems. there could be little fault in you for not recognizing him at first given the circumstances. you had never met the man before yesterday.

now, in the safety of your own home, you can admit to yourself that deep down, twisting your perceptions, you'd be a little relieved to have found him. yes, you were scared— worried that fate might have skipped you in your doubt— but the fated milestone was reached. and he had wanted you, albeit sexually, the setting had made you desirable enough to bring you home. even after discovering the truth, he’d reached for more. 

in the end, you liked it; the weightlessness of floating above yourself for a moment; the rush of endorphins that seeped into the still waters. just the memory of it all has you tingling all over, hairs rising in protest. 

despite your misgivings, the reality of it was, what you’d left behind was unfinished business. there was no plausible way for you to just go about your lives without addressing what was discovered. you knew your stance on the matter, but it was equally as important to understand his so that there would be no confusion in the future. 

you were both scholars, but he was more welcoming to the present evidence than you were. though given the abrupt shift in your reality, a bit of additional clarity felt like a needed kindness. 

tossing the card back down, you returned to the bathroom with the first spark of determination kindling. if your thoughts were going to be set aflame, you knew who to invite to the bonfire.

                                                 |     ⚘⚘⚘      |

“i thought you said you and kaveh were through?”

finding a friendship with dehya had been an unexpected but appreciative experience. sumeru city was built by and for the cultivation of scholars under the aged guidance of late archon of sumeru. the akedemiya prided itself on its accumulation of knowledge, though it had yet overcame its ostracism of the children of the desert. 

it boiled down to conflicting views of the source of knowledge and whom it ultimately belonged too, but those like dehya hardly cared little of the dispute. it was old news kept relevant but elders who needed to let the new generation decide the future.

ultimately, she found interest in your defiance. shared stories among drinks and good company overwriting centuries of bad blood.

you drew the steaming cup warming your palm closer, finding solace in the simple smell of caffeine rather than the taste of it. dehya kept her inquiries limited when you had first requested her company at the portside coffee shop but now her curiosity was brimming as she scrutinized you from across the table.

“we are.”

“so this has something to do with the random quality of life text i got last night?”

the curl of her lips hinted that she already knew the answer, the slow grin widening further when you tossed her a less than impressed scowl. 

“i found someone new.”

the sharp red of her freshly pained nails drummed patiently against the table top as her raised brow encouraged you to get on with it. 

with a huff, you opted to just get it all out. 

“i met a guy at a bar who ended up being my soulmate.”

the woman had the courtesy not to laugh outright in your face, but the quiet snicker that escaped through the side of her mouth couldn't hide her amusement. 

“you know i was rooting for you. i thought if anyone could defy the odds it would be you.”

her support, while generous, was one-sided towards your benefit. dehya had her restraints when it came to the exaggerated nonsense spewed by the akademiya on the subject. but she couldn't deny it’s biological merits after discovering her other half in the form of her childhood friend and now girlfriend. 

dunyarzad believed in a more muted rendition of the historic value of soul mates, a hopeless romantic that thrived on the magic of dreams. in a way you both humored the young woman, if only to be plagued with her infectious smile and outlook on life. 

dehya smirked, leaning forward on her elbows. the flaky croissant you had purchased as a show of gratitude forgotten. “so you go out with a stranger and they rock your world … and now you’re in the same boat as the rest of us."

you stare at her blankly, “it’s not that simple.’’

“it is if you stick by the facts,” she answers smoothly. “so you had one good night, you’re not obligated to marry him. if anything, you're the one hung up over it. why not just leave it as that and move on?”

your body jolts with the instinct to protest, but the weighted gaze she holds over you keeps you rooted until the words seep in. you had hardly delved into the details of the night, but she was reading you like an open book. 

society’s expectations weren't your reality. nor had alhaitham’s surmise given his perplexed but visible patience during your hasty escape. he had made the same discovery as you but didn’t hold you accountable for an explanation. 

instead he gave you the option. 

seek him out or leave it as it was. 

knowing him would be an emotional burden but you had lived this long without encountering him and would eventually outlive the physical reminder. 

dehya drew your attention back by the soft sound of her spoon clinking against the side of her mug.

“you’re my friend, but sometimes you scholars are all the same.”

setting the spoon aside, she leveled you with a look. “once you get a theory planted in your head, anyone outside of it is well out of reason. you all forget that the world is full of theories and opinions and there is so much more to explore if you would be more wiling to accept ones that aren't your own.”

her face softens as she reaches out to fold her palm over yours. 

“you came to me for advice at least, so let me give it. everyone's soulmate situation is unique. your parents for example.” you flinch at the mention, years of memories solidifying the reason you sought out the akademiya. 

dehya's fingers squeeze in reassurance as she continues. “at least hear him out. maybe their theory will compliment yours. and if not, well next time call me to a fight rather than a cup of coffee.”

the thinly veiled joke pulled a tight smile from your lips. 

she was right though. as a scholar you had encouraged a new experience and were left to analyze the variables. the night had been an unexpected outcome but not a failure.

in the end, you liked it; the weightlessness of floating above yourself for a moment; the rush of endorphins that seeped into the still waters. just the memory of it all has you tingling all over, hairs rising in protest. 

despite your misgivings, the reality of it was, what you’d left behind was unfinished business. there was no plausible way for you to just go about your lives without addressing what was discovered. you knew your stance on the matter, but it was equally as important to understand his so that there would be no confusion in the future. 

you managed to finish your coffee before dehya eventually coaxed you out of the shop, muttering about a fresh text from dunyarzad as you parted ways at the entrance. 

the warmth of her encouraging hug still lingered as you plucked the contact card from its perch on your nightstand.

flipping the card, you found a neat scrawl of additional numbers, the intention clear. 

with that in mind, you reached for your phone and typed out a message. 

‘i’d like to talk.’

your thumbs tap against the screen idly, hoping he was awake and wouldn’t keep you waiting. it was a safe assumption that the man was a morning person when the reply was sent a few minutes later. 

‘fine. would you like me to come to you?.’

you thought about alhaitham coming to your flat. 

grand scribe alhaitham who was hardly as inconspicuous in sumeru city. 

soulmate alhaitham who had yet to have his way with you in your bed-

the last thing you needed to think about was either of you coming.

‘no, will you be home in the evening? i can be there.’

his reply was simple.

‘4pm.’

you stared at the text with a writhing feeling in your gut. it definitely needed to happen, a talk like this was better addressed soon than later. but maybe this was too soon. there was no taking the words back now but how hard would it be to just delete them? a simple swipe and tap and they’d be gone. 

you’d avoided alhaitham this long. and if you stayed away from a certain tavern you could continue to do so. he didn’t seem like a man who would put effort into something that lacked fruition. 

exhaling slowly, you tossed the phone away before you made another rash decision. confronting it now would be the smart thing to do. it was the best way to keep yourself from spiralling down a path of the unknown. just because you discovered your soulmate, nothing had changed. 

granted he gave you the best orgasm you’d had so far in your life, it was just that. a night of carnage that had you waking up with nothing but regret. how could anyone chase something so recklessly because they felt that the archons put their stars too close together?

yes, tackling this now would let you set the record straight. you didn't want a marriage proposal but that didn't mean— no, you wouldn't speculate or conjure up anything until you got on the same page. alhaitham seemed like a rational person, he likely didn’t believe in soulmates either. a good night in bed got the best of everyone. 

for a long moment, you stood in the noon shadow of your bedroom before eventually returning to the bathroom to finish your routine. as you brushed your teeth and washed your face, you tried hard not to look too close at your reflection again.

picking back up the phone, you craft and send a quick message to kaveh.

‘hope you haven’t fallen into a coma.’

and you hoped you aren't falling into a deeper mess. 

continued in part ii

[inaflashimagine]

control

The Scribe only operates on the principles of rationality. He's none too pleased when someone who steals his wine and requests for his academic support attempts to break that code. pairing: alhaitham x gn!reader wc: 8.3k enemies to lovers enemies, angst(?), smut (oral m. receiving) at the end, minor 3.1 mention about alhaitham & cyno's academic positions, mentions of zandik

Kaveh is many things, but a (good) thief is not one of them.

Then again, it’s hard to chastise the passionate architect for his poor robbery skills when your ability to quickly detect such petty crimes is as effective as a lethargic sumpter beast.

(Not that an Akademiya scholar like yourself needs such a skill set; you prefer leaving that work to the Corps of Thirty.)

Regardless, you should’ve been wary the minute you saw him exit Lambad’s tavern with not one or two but ten crates of wine. You didn’t blame the man for wanting to temporarily escape his financial burdens, but surely that amount of alcohol would drown him in his growing hole of debt.

And out of all the questions you could’ve asked, the first two that left your mouth was whether that’s all for him and if he’s throwing a party.

His eyes sparkled upon hearing the latter, for a pitiful joke was instead interpreted as a proposal to celebrate, “My stubborn, annoying roommate going on a business trip!”

“—And I’ve heard sooo many horror stories about his roommate,” you now explain to a rather large group of curious guests, faces that have blurred into a blob after many hours of gossiping, dancing, and finishing copious amounts of wine.

Even a drunk Kaveh couldn’t hold out much longer, snoozing on the couch as you resume your story. “It’s only been a month of them living together, but the dude sounds like a complete ass.”

“I’m sure the actions of the ‘complete ass’ are warranted, given that Kaveh stole his ten crates of wine.”

The voice sharply cuts through the air, the jubilant music ending to a screeching halt while you blink yourself out of your stupor.

After all, it’s not everyday that you find yourself confusedly staring at Sumeru Akademiya’s Grand Scribe at a house party.

“Haitham?” Your frown pales in comparison to the deepening scowl on his face, too baffled to find the puzzle pieces that everyone around you already connected. “Why are you here?”

“I could ask you the same thing, considering this is my house.”

“Oh,” is all you can initially muster with a shaky smile, his scorching glare after this response sufficient signal for you to stop.

Instead, you offer your nearly empty cup to the person you’ve unawarely insulted these past few minutes, and ask if he’d like the last few drops of his precious wine.

–

If you had known that Kaveh’s irritating roommate is the same scholar you need to consult with for your paper, you might've given last night’s actions a second thought.

“You’re a difficult person to locate,” is your first greeting to the man in question, shocked to have actually spotted him–or rather, that messy head of silver hair–working in an obscure corner of the House of Daena after running around Sumeru City all morning.

“That’s intentional,” Alhaitham responds curtly, his eyes refusing to leave the letter he’s currently writing.

“Right, makes sense,” you sigh, fingers fidgeting as you tentatively sit across from him, well aware that your presence is justifiably unwelcome. His impeccably neat handwriting flies across the page as you clear your throat and start, “Well, I know we’ve seen each other in passing, but I wanted to officially introduce myself—”

“Quite unnecessary. Unlike you, I have a good memory of how you presented yourself yesterday.”

The ‘ouch’ you mutter is just slightly loud enough for him to hear, but he steadily writes away, almost as if you’re a droning fly he’s trained himself to ignore.

“Which is why I want to apologize for how I acted last night—”

Alhaitham still hasn’t looked at you, but his derisive scoff is the first instance of breaking his impassivity. “I don’t care for your insincere apology. If that’s all you’re here for, then I suggest leaving now so more of my time isn’t wasted.”

The urge to bang his head onto the table becomes more alluring each second—you curl your fingers into fists as you ponder whether the instant gratification will outweigh the consequences you’d undoubtedly face from Katayoun. Based on the hushed rumors whispered among students, even the thunderous wrath of the Raiden Shogun is nothing compared to the librarian’s threats of cutting off access to thousands of books.

So you lean back into your seat and bite your tongue, recognizing that your frustration doesn’t stem from his constant interruptions or his sweltering air of indifference–though those fun traits certainly fuel the flames–but the realization that he’s right.

You’re not sorry about the things you said last night.

Alhaitham is an asshole, a fact that most if not all at the Akademiya agree on.

“Fine, then I’ll get straight to it,” you huff. “I need your help with a research project of mine.”

His fingers slightly tighten their grip on the quill as soon as you utter the word 'help', but the sentences that he pens still resemble the fluid strokes from before. “I wasn’t aware a thief such as yourself possessed the privilege to cash in favors.”

“I know I’m not a victim, but I truly thought the wine—which was quite tasty, I regrettably report—was Kaveh’s.”

“Ah, thank you for the much-needed clarification. I'll be sure to change the crime you're charged with to ‘sheer stupidity.’”

Archons, your patience is wearing thin. Maybe taking the parchment he's writing on or breaking his quill in half might make him actually shift his attention toward you.

Deciding to take the higher road instead, you press on. "Will you work with me if I give you one crate of wine? I can throw in another one as an apology for last night."

Those questions ultimately get him to look at you, his apathetic gaze making you instantly wish he could revert to his position of actively ignoring your presence.

His lips tug downward as he pretends to consider your offer. "I know you're a Dastur in the Amurta so math may not be your strongest suit, but even other researchers in your Darshan know basic arithmetic and the concept of equivalent exchange."

"It appears someone hasn't read my publications," you mutter before nursing your head, wondering whether it was time to abandon this loop of unproductive discussion.

"On the contrary. 'Impact of Duration and Distance of Withering Zone Exposure on the Severity of Eleazar' has meticulous data collection and organization that strongly support your hypotheses. I simply assumed Tighnari did most of the math, since visionless individuals like yourself are advised to stray from such dangerous areas."

"Well, your assumption is incorrect," you say hotly toward his dismissal of your hard work, ruefully remembering Kaveh warning you about Alhaitham's general distaste for those unfavored by the gods. How the most irksome man in all of Sumeru managed to receive such a coveted gift is an anomaly no researcher can ever rationally explain. "There's a reason why Tighnari is the second author, and why I'm the first."

"Why not ask your furry companion the Forest Watcher for assistance on your next project, then?" Alhaitham inquires with an exasperated sigh, a finger tapping impatiently.

"You think I willingly chose you over Tighnari? Trust me when I say that I'd rather get mauled by Rishboland tigers than continue talking to you." Though unable to rile up the Scribe, the roll of his eyes brings the smallest hint of satisfaction while you retrieve a few crinkled documents and photos from your satchel.

"But Tighnari doesn't specialize in ancient runes"–you shove the pictures toward Alhaitham's way, his eyes narrowing as he already begins to scrutinize the symbols depicted on the photographed stone–"and unfortunately, you do."

"'To be cursed with the scales of the demon means to succumb to eternal sleep,’" he translates quickly, flattening the picture before handing it back to you, an arched brow showing a glimpse of his piqued interest. "Circa four to five hundred years ago, at least. That's all I can tell from this blurry image. I'm assuming the ever-so-professional photographer who took this with their shaky Kamera skills is you?"

"It's not my fault I was being chased by mercs," you grumble, and you swear you spot a surprised, but impressed Alhaitham for the briefest millisecond. 

"Don't tell me you broke into that abandoned medical facility near Aaru Village?" Upon observing your sheepish expression, he lets out what you think might be an amused laugh. "Your face tells me you at least know the risks of such a nonsensical action.” 

“Hey, I’m no vision holder but I’m somewhat handy with a dagger. At least, good enough that I’m still alive after two trips to that maze of a place.”    

“Oh?” He tilts his head ever so slightly as you’re startled to hear his hum of approval. “I’ll have to hold you in higher regard, then."

You hate that your chest rapidly puffs up from that statement.

“Well, it was the valiant Sage Siman Farrokhzad who once said, 'Now is the time to understand more, so that we may fear less.'"

The pregnant pause after your proclamation feels like the eternity all clamor for in Inazuma. The Scribe's eyes close, almost as if trying to match the quote to the alleged owner.

And once they open again, you find yourself drawn to the intense shades of blue and green swirling in his eyes, a clarity that rivals the untouched portions of the Yazadaha Pool.

"He never said that."

"He did."

"No, he never said that," Alhaitham confirms, an edge of impatience peeking through his unwavering tone, "and where are you going with this? This pet project of yours should be undertaken by a historian rather than a biomedicalist."

It takes nearly half an hour but finally, he's asking the important questions. The ones that make you lean in and look straight at the intimidating eyes of the hawk, your body buzzing with excitement at the prospect of disclosing a secret you've held on for far too long. "I do research at Bimarstan, and they do a thorough job of tracking a patient's medical history and clinical presentation. Yet Dr. Zakariya always tells us the clinic has no archive for the earliest cases. Which is strange, because how is one of Sumeru’s oldest, most devastating afflictions a mere footnote in our nation’s written history?

“So I submitted a request to Naphis, the Amurta Sage, and the Grand Sage asking for access to the ancient medical archives at the Akademiya. And guess what illness isn’t even mentioned on a singular page?”

“Eleazar,” he answers firmly, thinly pursed lips already connecting the dots.

(Not that you anticipated any less from the Grand Scribe, an expectation you rather keep quiet lest you stroke his ego.)

“Naphis and Azar told me to focus on studying current cases, but I’m tired of telling doctors and interns how to treat the symptoms.” You rise from your seat, eyes wide as you bang your hand on the table, not caring for the peers chastising you for your loudness. “By learning how Eleazar occurred in the first place, we can discover the root cause of this affliction and eradicate it!

“And it took months, but I’ve discovered redacted notes on a researcher named Zandik, whose expulsion from the Akademiya coincides with the first Eleazar outbreak. The Sages are hiding something, and I intend to find out exactly what that is.”

“How did you even find such notes?”

“You can see them for yourself,” you reply instead, your smug smile growing when his eyes briefly widen at your insinuation.

“You truly don’t understand the concept of equivalent exchange,” he derides, “if you think I’m going to accompany you on a prohibited trip to a medical facility that confers no benefit for me whatsoever.”

“Huh, something tells me that you’re more worried about the compensation as opposed to the illegality of this whole thing,” you whisper, his brisk ‘hmph’ that follows shortly after proving your hunch. “I’ll have you know I was going to offer more than just wine. A little dusk bird told me you’re on the hunt for a certain Knowledge Capsule.”

“This is the last time I tell Kaveh anything remotely useful,” he murmurs immediately, hands massaging his temple to avoid the impending headache from dealing with his and your irrational behaviors.

“He also may have told me that this suicide mission of yours is not for the sake of helping the higher-ups. I don’t even know why you want that thing all to yourself, but I’m not here to judge. Because we have a common enemy.”

He lays his chin on clasped hands, his fully undivided attention on you making the hairs on your skin crawl. “You do know the General Mahamatra can easily expel you for this? Conducting unauthorized research on Akademiya subsidies while simultaneously conspiring to undermine the very system supporting you…”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m talking to the Scribe instead of Cyno.”

That smirk of his confirms that you played your cards right. After all, no sane person would turn down one of the most powerful positions in Sumeru. Alhaitham declining the offer of General Mahamatra only to become a scribe to ‘quench his thirst for knowledge’ solidified his title as an Akademiya lunatic who will stop at nothing to get what he wants.

And it’s the only way you’ll be able to work right under the noses of the Sages.

“So you have less than a minute to explain how you’ll get me the Capsule or the deal’s off.”

You slide back into your seat, unaware that you’d been so close to him that you could make out the golden flecks in his eyes. That’s the last distraction you need, not when this collaboration—or transaction, in his mind—might actually come to fruition.

“I can get you access to the Capsule, but not ownership of it. I know someone who’s in one of the brigades vying for the damn device—she’s already agreed to let you study it under heavy supervision if you agree to meet her beforehand.”

“Sounds like your friend has little faith in me,” he muses, that tiny unsettling smile of his serving sufficient reason for the stipulations in place.

“We both don’t,” you enunciate clearly, hoping your dislike for his shady nature is obvious, “but there’s no other choice. Are you in or out?”

The cogs turning in his head during the brief lapse of tense silence have you uneasy. With locks of hair blocking his already indecipherable eyes, you wonder if you’ve made a mistake coming here.

Uncrossing his arms, he gives a stiff nod and one last look at you before returning to his previous task of writing. “It’s good enough, I suppose. let me know when and where to meet.”

The finality in his voice marks the end of this conversation, a fact that should instantaneously flood you with relief and joy for acquiring his help on your work.

But as you bid a farewell to Katayoun and leave the suffocating air of the library, it’s impossible to shake off the feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach.

_

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

It is the tenth time Aya has asked you that in the span of an hour, and the upmteenth time your own brain has mulled it over. 

“Truthfully, I don’t know,” you breathe out, matching her concerned look as you place the wine bottle in the middle of the table. 

The lively chatter and calming music rising from the first floor of the tavern somewhat soothes your jangled nerves. But you’re not sure anything can prepare you for the meeting you two will have with Alhaitham.

“Don’t spill any more information from what I’ve already given him, the less he knows, the better,” you advise your friend, growing more worried with how she giggles at your warning. “This is some serious shit, Aya.”

Her toothy grin only seems to broaden at that, contributing to the glow of the faint light gently bathing her golden brown skin. “Relax, I think I can handle a prissy scholar from the Ivory Tower. I’ve done it before and I can do it again.”

“But you don’t know him like I do. He’ll do anything to get what he wants, even if it hurts others.”

You wish she can stop laughing so breezily at everything you’re saying.  

“Sure, this whole ordeal might be more catastrophic than the freaking Cataclysm, and I don’t know anything about him other than he’s suspicious as fuck and is a horrible roommate”–she grabs your hand, gives it a reassuring squeeze as her steely eyes soften with the contact–“but I know you. I won’t believe a single word that comes out of his mouth, but I trust you.”

You’re confused on why your chest constricts or how tears threaten to pool in your eyes, unsure how to proceed other than placing your other hand over her gloved one.

“Am I interrupting something?” cuts in a smooth voice that’s only grating to hear because of the person associated with it.

Just how much did he see?

“No.” Withdrawing your hand as if you just touched the tavern’s stove, you wonder if Aya appears more composed than your frazzled self currently feels.

Yet the only eyes you dare meet are the cold green ones that eerily glow in the dim lighting of the bar. Choosing not to expand on the topic, he betrays no emotion as he casually sits down, briefly adjusts his cape, and nods toward the untouched bottle of wine. 

“I don’t know what else my impulsive roommate has told you, but it’ll take a whole lot more of that to get me drunk and disclose any Akademiya secrets.”

“Yeah, we’re fully aware, you alcoholic,” you mutter with an eye roll. “Now, let’s talk business.”

“Wow, I don’t even get to introduce myself?” Aya teases playfully, twisting the wine cap open as she pours the rich red liquor in everyone’s cup. “I hear an earful about this pretty boy over here and he knows zilch about me.”

“You’re Aya, an Eremite from the tourist-friendly Aaru Village with considerable standing among the brigade there and the go-to person for handling dicey negotiations. Though I suppose being the daughter of the faction leader has to have some influence in that.” The robot takes a sip of wine before reciting his next line. “You’re a tour guide during the day, mercenary at night. The former was how you two were able to meet, roughly a year ago. You also wield an ax, which is likely hidden under this table.”

Aya lets out an amused laugh before smiling sardonically at the blatant invasion of privacy that has your blood boiling. You can see her grip the handle of her weapon from underneath, holding onto it a bit tighter than usual. “Now I know you didn’t get all of that juicy stuff from the tiny device in your ear.”

“A scholar should never rely on just one source of information,” is all he cares to elaborate on the subject before his gaze shifts to you. “After all, it would be a waste of my time to not verify the legitimacy of your offer only to ultimately find out it was a fraud.”

Grinding your teeth, the only thing that keeps you from ‘accidentally’ spilling your drink all over him is the fact that you fished out a good amount of mora for this expensive wine. “Do you ever stop talking?”

He blinks, feigning innocence as he speaks, “Well how else do you expect me to answer your incessant and unproductive questioning?” 

“Okay,” quickly interjects Aya, her eyes settled on an unfazed Alhaitham while she forces you back down to your seat, “we’re gonna discuss the plan so you shut that pretty little mouth of yours, yeah?”

“Not sure ‘pretty’ is the right word in this scenario,” you goad, not caring how bitter you sound. “Maybe annoying. Bothersome. Definitely punchable.”

“Is that what you think when you stare at my lips every five minutes?”

You know you should stop entertaining him, especially when you’re the only one who feels provoked. But that smirk of his makes your annoyance bubble into a simmering anger.

“Actually, I spend that time wondering how so much horseshit is able to come out of your–”

“Enough!” bellows Aya, the slamming of both hands on the table snapping you out of whatever ill-timed path of divine fury you were about to unleash on the Scribe. 

“He–”

“They–”

“Not. Another. Word!” Aya croaks out before letting out a haggard cough. 

Alhaitham suspiciously squints at the Eremite while you let out a meek apology, but there’s an unofficial, quiet agreement between the both of you to be silent while Aya explains the logistics for the upcoming weeks. 

“And you two are so lucky I’m babysitting your childish asses during this trip.”

Though her predictions for how this night would turn out came true, you just hope the Cataclysm portion of her statement stays theoretical. 

_

“It’s not too late to turn back.”

There’s no trace of malice in his tone. If anything, there might even be the faintest hint of understanding hidden underneath, though calling it empathy would be quite a stretch.

No matter the intention, your eye twitches with irritation, stiffening under his lingering stare while your gaze remains focused on the miles of scorching desert spanning the horizon.

You take a step forward, already sweating from the intense heat as you brace yourself for the next leg of your journey. “We should reach Aaru Village in two days, maybe one if we don’t get snagged up in those pesky sandstorms.”

“I’m not just referring to the physical portion of this trip,” he dares to tread, walking behind you almost as if he’s wary of stepping on your toes. “Mental distress will only impede progress.”

Jaw painfully clenched, you will yourself to exhale a hollow “I’m fine.”

“I’d believe that if you said anything beyond those two words in these past five days.”

Gripping the straps of your travel bag in frustration, you instantly halt, unsympathetic to the muffled ‘oof’ leaving Alhaitham as he averts an impending collision. 

Inhaling deeply, you turn around, squinted eyes seething at the expressionless man. “Sumeru can only handle one Drusus, so stop speaking in cryptic riddles and just spit it out.”

The Scarlet King must feel your ire, strong winds beginning to pick up as silver hair strands wildly flap around Alhaitham. Yet calm teal eyes bore right into you, an eagle observing its prey just before he swoops in.

“You’re not fit enough for this trip.”

Dry laughter seems like the only response you can muster at the moment, or at least the sole option that won’t immediately result in a physical exchange between the two of you. “Is that so?”

“It’s like your body never left Sumeru City. How can you call yourself a scholar when you let some weak girl easily distract you?” 

Something in you snaps, the broken dam ushering in a flood of frenzied rage not even observed in the angriest of anemo slimes. All you see is red, finding it hard to control your breathing as you approach the Scribe and jab a finger into his chest, growing further irritated when he doesn’t budge.

“No, no, no,” you begin quietly, coolly, quickly unable to maintain a steady volume when a certain person flashes in your mind. “I don’t give a flying fuck if you insult me. But never call Aya that.”

“So never tell the truth?” He swats the finger away while getting closer to you. “Those with Eleazar are fighting a losing battle. Hiding the scales with gloves was a smart move, but that cough gave it all away.”

“Aya’s not weak, she’ll be fine,” you protest, wincing at the crack in your voice. The last memory of her feverish figure begging for relief remains seared in your mind, a harrowing image that makes your blood run cold. “This latest episode was so sudden, but she’s been able to control it in the past. Dr. Zakariya promised me he’d do everything he could.”

His silence is damning.

“She’s not weak, she’ll make it.” The phrase leaves your mouth yet again, no longer certain if it’s Alhaitham you’re trying to convince. 

He studies you carefully, notices your pinched brows and clenched fists. Sees the way your shoulders, once stiff with anger, slowly start to deflate as you softly ask him, “Right?”

—

“Right?”

The Scribe blinks, spending an additional second to ensure he heard you correctly. Not only do his ears deceive him, but his vision must also be trapped under some illusion to be seeing one of the most certain and confident scientists he’s met look anything but. 

And it’s getting harder to concentrate with this unbearable heat, difficult to proceed with his usual rationale when he’s practically breathing in your quivering breaths. 

So he takes one large step backward, futilely trying to ground himself in the sand. Reminding himself that the real reason he’s here is for the Divine Knowledge Capsule, not for you.

Hoping his countenance adopts the rehearsed neutrality found in his voice when he tells you, “Only the fittest survive.” 

It’s a perverse fascination to watch thousands of emotions flit across your face from just a singular phrase—hope turning into despair, shock melting into sadness, confusion devolving into pure anger. No experiment or controlled research setting could reproduce such raw feelings. In fact, he can’t even remember the last time someone has looked at him with anything other than annoyance. 

But in that crestfallen face he easily identifies a familiar sentiment beginning to crystallize in your eyes. Unlike your other rapidly successive emotions, this one doesn’t even need half a second of analysis to detect it. 

Because he’s been at the receiving end of it for years.

Hatred.

“Fuck you, Haitham,” you hiss, teeth bared back. 

“I’m being realistic. Which is why I’ll repeat that it’s not too late to turn back.”

You turn on your heel and stalk forward with a renewed vigor, refusing to spare another glance at him while vowing to finish this journey. “This work is going to help Aya, and Celestia will fall before I let a pathetic asshole stop me.”

Alhaitham snorts, shortly following behind you as he activates his Akasha terminal and makes a mental note to review more literature on hate as a motivating factor. 

_

Pervasive thoughts always sound loudest at night, especially when the only thing competing for attention in the vast desert is the occasional howl of a jackal and the low crackle of the fire keeping you warm once the sun had retired. 

It’s why you always travel with two notebooks–one for charting observations, generating hypotheses, and making calculations. 

And the other for daily reflection. 

The brilliantly starry night allows you to peruse what you’d hurriedly scribbled after that fiasco at Lambad’s Tavern, just after Alhaitham left. The words that Aya had told you after she pulled you aside, concerned eyes roaming over your silently fuming face.

“You are the one in control, not him. Never forget that.”

Yet it’s the “But am I really?” that’s written right underneath the quote that makes you smile wryly.

“How do I show him that?” quickly follows, the large words encompassing the rest of the page.

That question has invaded every waking moment of the day. An unceasing jeer that continues to mock you while eyeing the sleeping scholar, who decided to sit against the rock walls rather than doze in the makeshift tent you assembled. 

The man that has you doubting your sanity.

It was a mistake to volunteer for the first shift, albeit the logical decision due to feeling the most awake.

Because in the dark, no one can judge where your hyperactive mind and eyes wander. How you unabashedly stare at his tranquil face before ogling at the defined arm not covered by his cape, reminded of all the self-restraint it took earlier today to not gawk at his toned upper body when he peeled off his extra layer of clothing.

How your eyes secretly admire the lining of his abs that peek through his mesh shirt, increasingly confused on whether the Akademiya imposes harsh fitness standards for a job that tends to focus on writing rather than fighting.

“Strange–I didn’t peg you to be a creep.”

Heat rises to your face as your eyes meet sharp, green ones that seem way too alert for a slumbering man.

Despite the absolute mortification, you snap your notebook shut as you muster the most unperturbed expression you can. “I was just making an observation, one that actually supports a hypothesis I have.”

His eyebrows raise just slightly, lips parting and barely quirking at the corners as he challenges, “Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Yes, actually.” You refuse to break from the stare, ready to carefully measure his reaction. “My happiness is associated with a decreased amount of having to hear you talk.”

Admittedly, you’re a bit upset to see that the most you get out of him is an eye roll. 

“Absolutely riveting,” he remarks, the sarcasm heavily dripping off each syllable. “I believe someone else drew a similar conclusion when we had to work together for a class assignment.”

“Cyno never did like you,” you chuckle, laughing even harder when Alhaitham sends you a mildly puzzled, but curious, look. 

“How did you guess that correctly when I never even mentioned his name?”

You rub your hands for warmth before getting a bit closer to the flames, unable to wipe off your wistful smile as you fondly recall a memory. “Though you have a long list of people who dislike you, I’ll never forget Cyno ‘sharing his findings’ before you two broke into a fight in the library. It was his first and last funny joke.”

“I almost forgot about that.” Alhaitham stares into the fire, a trace of a smirk on his lips. “First time we nearly got expelled.”

“Of course you’d forget–you two fight more than a horde of hilichurls stealing each other’s zaytun peaches.” 

“Not an exact comparison, but if you liken a zaytun peach to researcher autonomy, then yes, I suppose I must frequently remind the General Mahamatra to exercise more restraint when delivering punishments.”

“Why must you be so self-righteous,” you sigh, resigned to pinching the bridge of your nose while he continues to blabber about the benefits of autonomous research. “Good to hear you still don’t heed my and Cyno’s advice of knowing when to be quiet.” 

“Don’t act like you don’t agree with me, especially with the type of project you’re carrying out.”

“Of course I’m all for researchers having ultimate control over their interests and own work, but let’s not pretend the Sages and matra don’t side with you as well. They exercise their autonomy everyday with all the secret side projects they’re performing. They just don’t like it when those below them try to practice that same right.”

He sits with that for a while, the fire casting an eerie glow on his face and orbs pensive as he admits, “I’ve never considered that point of view.”

You dare laugh, though your chest burns with aggravation. “That’s because you say you’re open to hearing other people’s thoughts when you’re only concerned with proving your own!”

“Make no mistake, I do listen to different perspectives, but only one can be deemed the most rational. It’s not my fault if people don’t like the outcome.”

“The world isn’t so cut and dried as you make it seem. What happens when you can’t rationalize the irrational?”

“How many times does such a scenario even occur?”

You huff indignantly. “We’re talking about the human race with its erratic behavior, I’d say pretty often.” 

“Name an example, then, if you’re so adamant.”

There is one that’s glaringly obvious in your mind. A situation you’re still not sure how to respond to, since the method of rationality only makes it more perplexing and leaves you increasingly frustrated. 

But he’s the last person you’d divulge such matters to.

“Come up with your own, you irritating slime,” you grumble instead, tiredly rubbing your eyes as you gratefully accept the wave of exhaustion starting to hit you. 

“Figured as much. It’s my shift now, you should sleep instead of starting yet another tirade I have to begrudgingly sit through.”

“You like hearing them,” you counter with closed eyes after laying under the tent, words so jumbled they’ve melted into one. “Once this trip is done, you’re gonna miss arguing with someone who’s not Kaveh.”

If he says anything else it’s for his ears only, your head finally able to block those pestering thoughts.

_

“Are you certain this is the correct location?”

You understand Alhaitham’s insistence for confirmation, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be vexed from the persistent grilling.   

Your arms wildly gesticulate to the disintegrating building you two are currently traversing, sand occupying every nook and cranny of the desolate hallways now that the windows that once offered protection have turned to pieces of broken glass crunching under each of your steps.

“Hmmm, why don’t you hazard a guess? Or will you only be able to tell when this crumbling place caves in on us?”

“I thought it was a logical choice to defer to the one who’s been here more than once.” From your periphery you see him stretch his arms languidly while he lets out a long, resigned sigh. “Now I’m doubting whether you’ve actually been here. I’m positive we walked in a circle.”

“I was checking the perimeter to make sure we’re the only ones here.”

“Right…”

“Oh, shut up,” you mutter. Yet any shred of disgruntlement is instantly replaced by the triumphant smile that splits across your face once you spot the narrow, barely-trodden trail leading to your destination. 

The only thing that gets Alhaitham to stop complaining is when you reach the end of the long tapered hallway, the Scribe in disbelief when you kick open a door to a seemingly untouched room.

He can already tell no one has been here save for the few times you’ve stumbled upon this space that appeared to be an office study. Dust and a bit of sand thinly coat bookshelves, cabinets, a haphazardly erased blackboard, and a desk littered with tattered pages and stone tablets.

“Mercenaries usually pilfer items that fetch a high amount of mora, like medical equipment that was left behind or old medication they can trick their customers into buying.” You usher Alhaitham to the desk, attempting to pile the scattered notes and shake off the dirt and sand on the invaluable material. “We’re fortunate enough that they think this is useless.”

His slender fingers brush over the cool, dark slab, tracing the inscribed message before casting an amused glance your way. “One person’s trash is a scholar’s treasure.”

It’s the first time he’s seen you look at him without even the slightest hint of disgust, pure mirth swimming in your eyes as your lips curl into a satisfied grin. You can never deny the passion of an excited researcher. “Exactly. Now let’s get to work.”

The next few hours surprisingly go off without a hitch, finally able to understand the numerous documents and stones you’ve cataloged on your previous trip. You feverishly write down all of Alhaitham’s translations, ensuring to retake better pictures for future analysis.

“Wait, repeat what you just said,” you interrupt, the first sentence you’ve said in the past hour after only speaking in scattered ‘hmm’ and ‘uh-huh’ during your note taking. 

The Scribe rolls his head from side to side, stretching stiff muscles before peering down at his magnifying glass again. “‘Those afflicted with the scales of demons must embark the treacherous journey into the Woods.’”

“They must be referring to Apam Woods, but why?” You rack your addled brain for any clues you must’ve missed. “It’s not like Nilotpala Lotus grows there…”

Alhaitham shakes his head, “I’m no Forest Watcher, but the medical notes we translated a few minutes ago don't mention anything native to that area.”

“Hold on.” Standing up, you scramble back to the desk where he is, sifting through one of the earlier pages in an intern’s worn notebook before enthusiastically jabbing at the desired one and nearly tearing a hole in the process. “There, page eighteen, you said something about a green-haired person.”

He thinks about making a sly comment about ruining the evidence but bites his tongue, deciding to play along for once. “‘A peculiar, but handsome green-haired man stopped by earlier today. His request to examine children with the scales of the demons was swiftly denied by Doctor Farrokh, despite the enraged man’s insistence that he found the key to eternal longevity. He stormed out of our clinic not long after. I hope he never returns, lest he bother the crying children once more.’” 

“This might sound crazy,” you say slowly, hesitantly preparing yourself for the onslaught of insults and rebuttals, “but I think that peculiar man is Zandik.”

Alhaitham sends you an incredulous look. “What possibly led you to that conclusion?”

You pace around the room, fingers ticking down every piece of evidence you rapidly list, “Based on redacted notes I mentioned before, Zandik disappeared right before the first cases of Eleazar broke out. Then there’s these ragged records I found in Apam Woods that detail the effects of the Withering Zone on children subjects. It may seem like a stretch, but I think Zandik not only started the outbreak but also tried to find a cure for it by experimenting on anyone he could find! Maybe he was trying to find a way to increase his life expectancy and created a monster instead! Maybe he was patient zero! Or maybe–”

“Do you realize how mad you sound right now?”

“I only sound insane because there’s still a few missing pieces! Once I find them…”

“How, by talking to Zandik himself?”

Before you can negate that facetious remark, the sound of crunching glass outside and a muffled, “Do you hear something?” cause you to freeze.

“Yeah, I think it’s coming from this hallway. Wanna check it out?”

“Fuck,” you whisper, frantically trying to stuff as many notebooks as possible into your satchel. 

“Enough of that,” Alhaitham chides, jumping over the desk as multiple footsteps get louder. Roughly grabbing your hand, you startle at his forceful kick that opens the door, timely sucking the air out of the mercenaries’ chest while the both of you gain a few rare seconds to hightail it out of there.

“You don’t even know where you’re going!” you yell at him when he turns left instead of right. Planting both feet into the ground, you try to take back your hand he has a vice grip on. 

He nearly falls backwards, promptly turning around to show a face not devoid of emotion but displaying the briefest glimpses of outrage and confusion. “What are you doing?!”

Yet it’s no longer just the two of you, hearing the shouting of the charging Eremites getting clearer as they close the gap. 

You duck your head at someone trying to slash you with his dual blades, glancing at Alhaitham before stabbing the merc with your dagger. “I’m trying to find an escape route, since your navigation skills suck!”

The Scribe unsheathes his sword and stands between you and the rest of the vanguard, parrying any blows before he calmly says, “Then any day now would be ideal.”

Though you can hear his patience eroding over time, one man against at least five while you try to search for the map you drew in your notebook last time.

“You’re seriously”–he kicks a man twice his size to the floor, using that momentum to cut two nearby mercs–“going over”–he deflects again, then flicks his sword up from the ground to blind another with sand–“your notes”–his eyes widen upon nearly losing his head, one of them cutting off a few strands of his hair with a hydro-infused weapon–“right now?”

“Found it!” you exclaim, gesturing to him to follow you while running through the hallways.

But you can’t help but briefly wonder if the matra hired these mercenaries to take you out, another group of them blocking the exit you were planning to take.

“Where to now?” Alhaitham presses, though it didn’t take a genius to calculate the low odds of making it out alive.

“Let’s hope this works.” You grab a small device from the corner of your satchel, activating it with the press of a button before throwing it at the ground.

Smoke heavily fills the air, coughing heard everywhere as you hectically try to find Alhaitham’s gloved hand. When you do, you quickly charge forward, elated to reach the back entrance of the building while most of the smoke hasn’t cleared yet.

“You made that smoke bomb?” Alhaitham asks in between breaths, both of you still running to seek some other shelter after leaving those ruins.

“No,” you gasp, regretting for storing so many heavy books in your bag, “Dori sold it to me at a discounted price.”

“Why am I not surprised?” he tiredly mumbles, before pointing to the hotels of Aaru Village that you can barely make out in the distance. “On top of an extra crate of wine to compensate for almost killing us, you’re also paying for both of our hotel rooms tonight.”

Nothing else is said throughout the half-hour jog, the Scribe refusing to spare a glance at you as he decides that now–the only time you wish he can say anything, something for archon’s sake–is when he’ll opt for discomforting silence.

Just great.

_

After that minor hiccup during your research, you thought you’d be able to end the rest of your day unscathed. Maybe have time to further expand on the Zandik theory you initially formulated.

Alhaitham seemed to have other plans, knocking on your hotel room door in less than a minute of settling into your respective lodgings.

Maybe your first mistake is to let in the seething man, but you don’t want to pay further hotel fees, much less ones for broken furniture. 

“Can I at least shower before I have to listen to you yatter?” 

He peels off his bothersome cape in frustration before his long legs quit pacing, the quick turning of his heel allowing you to receive the daggers he mercilessly glares at you.

“Do you realize how close you were to dying?”

Though said with a suspicious layer of calm, the anger that peeks through sends a downright chilling shiver down your spine. The tension is so stifling that you’re not even sure his sword can cut through it. You’ve never seen him like this, intimidating, green eyes electrified with an overbearing fury that makes you prefer to be back at the medical facility fighting against the mercs. 

The only thing that keeps you from cowering in fear is your own red hot rage thrumming in your veins, curled fists by your side as you stalk toward him.

“How close I was to dying? Don’t act like you’re my knight in shining armor. I held my own weight, I got us out of there!”

Alhaitham wearily rubs his closed eyes, clearly exasperated as he utters, “Your impulsivity is so troublesome to deal with.”

“Oh, fuck off! Of course someone like you would say that!”

 “I’m only telling the–”

“If you say the word ‘truth’ one more time…” The threat comes out meekly, the sound of your pounding heart overpowering your strained voice. 

“I’m being honest.”

The nerve…

Yet you continue to be lured in, painfully aware how every cell in your body is screaming at you to leave. To extinguish the flames of this impending disaster before you’re engulfed in them.

You lean in further.

“You’re insufferable,” you whisper furiously.

Strands of silver hair tickle your cheek.

“And you’re impossible.”

The tips of your noses barely touch.

“Shut up, Haitham.” 

It’s the last breath you take before your lips crash with his.

The kiss is sloppy and aggressive and intoxicating. Teeth clash, the quiet groan leaving his parted mouth sending sparks of heat straight to the pit of your stomach. You harshly grab both sides of his face when you can’t tell where his tongue begins and yours end, hoping to steady yourself as he steals all your remaining breaths and your lungs fill to the brim with his exhales.

He pushes you against the wall, hard, rough hands pulling your hips against his as he takes his anger out on your neck. Your whimpers only encourage him to bite harder, to suck until all he can hear, see, and smell is you, you, you.

This is bad. Illogical. Fucking insane. The last thing he should be doing, and he tells you such when the last functioning part of his brain finally urges him to break away from your neck.

“We should stop,” he barely makes out, knowing full well how fake it sounds.

So you pull his face in again to kiss him more, one of his hands squeezing your ass as the other wraps around the back of your neck. Blood rushes to his thighs when he feels another roll of your hips, a dull ache in his throbbing cock as it strains against your body.

“Fuck,” he moans pathetically as you reach down to palm him through his pants. It’s a sound you want to hear again, to rile out of him until his voice is too hoarse to say anything else. 

The man can hardly register anything under this hazy cloud of desire until he feels his back pressed against the wall and sees you sink down to your knees.

“What,” he gulps, eyes rolling back when your tongue runs over his covered bulge, “What are you doing?”

Mischievous eyes bat innocently at him, your soft laugh an addicting sound he simultaneously craves to block out and hear on loop as he feels you tug down his pants and briefs.

“Aren’t you the Akademiya genius?” you tease him, Alhaitham having to suppress a groan when the heat of your mouth hits his cock. “What does it look like I’m doing, Haitham?”

Fuck. He doesn’t care for the whine that instantly leaves his trembling body. He wants you to say his name again. Needs you to cry it out while he stuffs you with his cock. Until he fucks you so hard you can’t think about that girl with Eleazar and annoying him with your research.

Until the only word you know is his name.

But–

“We shouldn’t–” 

“Why? Because it’s irrational?” You spit into your palm before stroking his length, the precum leaking from the tip now all over your fingers. The searing touch makes him squeeze his eyes shut, and you grin. “Too impulsive for you?” 

He inhales sharply through gritted teeth.

“Because–” 

His mind desperately claws at nothing, gaping mouth only able to form scattered sounds, fractured grunts.

“Because it feels good?” you finish for him, feeling his shaft pulse with need. “Because I’m in control?”

That’s the only warning he gets before the flat of your tongue traces the underside of his cock. Before you reach the head and trap it between those sinful lips. 

Before you swallow him whole, his cock twitching in your throat as you take it all in, the tip of your nose nudging against his sensitive hipbone.  

His head heavily thuds against the wall as he finally caves into the pleasure spreading every inch of his body. You’re grateful he can’t see the tears pricking in your eyes as your head bobs faster, fingernails digging half crescents into his skin as you suck down to the base again. 

He’s a mess, his strangled groans drowning out your gags when he ruts into you. When he pulls back you press on forward, guiding his hand to the back of your head so his overwhelmed mind has something to hold onto. 

And it feels so good. The sleeve of your throat feels tighter, and he sucks in another shallow breath. You feel so good, constantly repeating it in that empty head of his with your mouth choking on his cock as you bury it further. 

Fuck, fuck, he can’t hold it in. “Ah–I’m gonna–” 

He comes almost immediately, unloading straight into the back of your throat, swallowing as much as you can before thick, white spurts land around your lips. 

Spent, he tries to rest against the wall, a futile attempt to catch the breaths that his bewitched self willingly let you take from him. 

But you’re already standing up, wobbly knees straightening as you dive in for another sloppy kiss, the faint taste of his cum tainted on your tongue. 

He pulls aways, as if to say something. 

Yet nothing comes out.

“Cat got your tongue?” you taunt, licking your shiny lips before ‘consoling’ with a wicked smile. “Had I known this would get you to shut up, I would’ve done it sooner.”

His eyes narrow, stomach churning with a disconcerting flurry of anger, desire, and hatred.

So much hatred.

“Get. Out,” he manages to bite out, annoyed at how weak he sounds. 

“I mean this is my room.” He wants to wipe that little smirk off your face, wants to shake your shoulders senseless when you dare shrug at him. “But if it makes you happy, I guess I can take the other one before we go back to the facility tomorrow.”

“No,” he rasps, watching your figure freeze as you reach for the door, “I never want to see you again.” 

Only his furious breaths can be heard, the slight tilt of your head showing you contemplating a response.

“Don’t lie to yourself,” you answer simply, plainly. 

And without another word you shut the door, Alhaitham filled with self-loathing over the realization that you’re right.

[princealberich]

HIDDEN STRIFE: ALL LETTERS

I couldn’t find a clear list of the full letters anywhere, so here they are! I think these are in the right chronological order, but I might be mistaken.

Warning, this thread is LONG and very text heavy!!

FROM KAEYA: (LOCATION: DAWN WINERY)

FROM KAEYA: (LOCATION: DAWN WINERY)

FROM VARKA: (LOCATION: DAWN WINERY)

FROM DILUC: (LOCATION: JEAN’S OFFICE)

FROM KAEYA: (LOCATION: DAWN WINERY)

FROM ALICE: (LOCATION: DAWN WINERY)

FROM DILUC: (LOCATION: ALBEDO’S CAMP)

FROM KAEYA: (LOCATION: DAWN WINERY)

FROM DILUC: (LOCATION: ABOVE KNIGHT’S HQ)

FROM KAEYA: (LOCATION: DAWN WINERY)

FROM ELZER: (LOCATION: DAWN WINERY)

I’m assuming this is from Elzer, since Adelinde is mentioned by name.

FROM KAEYA: (LOCATION: DAWN WINERY)

FROM JEAN: (LOCATION: DAWN WINERY)

FROM DILUC: (LOCATION: JEAN’S OFFICE)

FROM KAEYA: (LOCATION: DAWN WINERY)

FROM ALBEDO: (LOCATION: DAWN WINERY)

FROM DILUC: (LOCATION: ALBEDO’S CAMP)

FROM KAEYA: (LOCATION: DAWN WINERY)

FROM KAEYA: (LOCATION: DAWN WINERY)

FROM DILUC: (LOCATION: ABOVE KNIGHT’S HQ)

FROM ???: (LOCATION: DAWN WINERY)

That’s the end of the letters I’ve found so far! The two letters to Kaeya from Diluc are located in a secret compartment above the Knight’s HQ, found by removing a brick in the wall. The details are as follows:

It looks like Kaeya keeps his important possessions in this secret compartment, including his letters from Diluc, the seashells they collected as children, an eyepatch and a relic from his past.

Hope this helps anyone who can’t play the event but want to be updated on the lore!! :D

EDIT: Added Diluc’s letters to Albedo and Alice!

[dawndelion-winery]

I'm sorry but I absolutely would let all of them wreck my shit

[hurricanectar]

about to be lying myself down on that table tbh

[petradragoon]

hbd to the defender of childhood dreams

[f-ai-n]

Fateful rainy night

[1driedpersimmon]

So Baizhu and Pants?

[frennarts]

[anyanary]

I just think they’re neat

[lightofthedeep]

heizou wanters will be heizou havers

[alcorate]

Compiled lore info regarding each of the Fatui Harbingers

Since the designs have been revealed I thought I’d compile a list of information we have on every character. Info is drawn from already existing lore in the story, item descriptions as well as leaks, so if you want to avoid those please skip this post!

Seguir leyendo

[vaultureculture]

all the sumeru characters with the exception of Collei are racist stereotypes and WHITE as fuck. This is appalling considering how well Genshin had done with the other regions so far. I hope to god they fix this before it's released, with the amount of people (myself included) complaining about it.

[inheritedeyepatch]

also just realized that they likely revealed all the harbingers so we can forget the mess that is sumeru character designs

[inheritedeyepatch]

these designs omgggg

[cchaiart]

xiaoxiaoxiaoxiaoxiaoxi

[yinses]

UnQuelled Qingxin; E (5k)

Xiao x reader (tried to keep it relatively gn)

A/N: Who would have thought that it would be Xiao to bring an end to my drought. I literally wrote this all in one sitting and didn't regret a single thing because guess what MY BOY CAME HOME. That quest broke me inside. Thanks, MHY. My boy deserves a break.

​It was always a surprise when the two of you were left alone, momentarily undesired in a world still teetering on the seams of chaos. That wasn't to say that neither of you were unneeded. Though it was odd— it was hardly midday and not a call had been made for either of your names. You had some inkling, however, while not mentioned in title the darkest depths still in need of cleansing still called for Xiao. It was noticeable in the subtle way his gaze traveled over the lands. While encompassing the vast stretch of Liyue, the gesture wasn’t aimless. 

There had been creative freedom and quite a few liberties taken to garner this facade of peace. Ultimately, you knew that if peril rain fell upon the meadows that lay below he’d be but a wisp of wind in your arms in a moment. It had only taken a small favor from friends to monitor the less precarious threats. The occasional snort above your head let you know that the barter didn’t remain as secretive as you’d planned. 

Still the conqueror of demons humored you, lounging as pliable as he could fair under the visage of a mere mortal enjoying a rather rare day off. It was possibly the most unsurprising thing to learn that he’d never heard of ‘vacation days’ having over two millennia of taking on the responsibilities of a yaksha. 

Graceful, sacred and while a little out of reach, obtainable for those willing to climb for it. 

There wasn't much to complain about in your love life.

There wasn't much to complain about in your love life.

Curled up comfortably on the sofa looking down over the Dihua Marshes, there weren't many grievances you could come up with against Xiao. Despite there being a few tough layers to melt through, ultimately he was sweet at the core and loyalty flowed through his veins. As much could be said of his attachment to his fallen family, and its solemn decree to save the remainder of his home from the same fate.

You weren't well versed in the extremes of losing loved ones. Especially to the extent to what Xiao had suffered. Similar to most of society you simply raised new generation in respect to their troubles for your own survival. To show gratitude by thriving was said to be the upmost respect. 

And yet here you were, snuggled up against one of the legends that made your hearth and home possible.

From what Xiao shared with you, those who he could consider dear to him barely took up the fingers of a single hand. Surely the fate of Liyue was dear to his heart, but that had always been an obligation … a promise he upheld in the space of his brethren. But the closeness thats he’d savored in the past and the bonds that threaded together those memories; he never expected to feel that warmth again. 

At first, it made you sad to think about. Suffering through brief conclusions that you would never be enough. Before realizing that if you were meant to be part of his past, you would have been. Instead, you’d been born as part of his future, a cut away from centuries upon centuries of agony. Though he never said it, you knew he was grateful that you never knew what it took to allow you the privilege to walk through the Bishui Plains, if you wished, without the fear of being smited by vengeful gods. Though he felt that his work was never done, there was no denying that the dent of his perseverance would pave more futures to come. 

At the present, you just wanted him to slow down and enjoy a few of the years he gave to others. Because even yaksha deserved a bit of leave from work. Damn near invented the term at this point. 

And now, here you were, left alone to soak in the plentiful rays of light that overtook the open sky.  

The two of you had spent the better of your first hour lounging lazily under the surface of a late morning, awake but not entirely willing to accept it. More so on your part. Despite his promise the night before, Xiao had shone a hint of resistance when your arms had come up to drag him back to bed. It didn’t surprise you that he’d intended to sneak out first thing the morning while you slept, if only to scour the marshes while you dozed. But you were ready for him, as insistent as you had been when sealing his acceptance. 

Never a promise. 

You’d be cruel to tie him to your side with such restraint. 

Xiao had you comfortably placed between his thighs, with one arm supporting his head and the other hung over your shoulder to hold the book you’d mutually decided to tide through until lunch. While you had elected not out every detail of the day, you had been grateful for the seamless way the two of you managed to fill time without strain. Small moments like these, once stolen away, fell easily into place. 

At the foundation, Xiao had become your friend before your lover and remained your closest confidant. It felt natural to favor the knowledge of his favoritism over the more physical closeness of other couples your age. It felt more meaningful in the long run. 

And yet.

Though you rarely mentioned it, you were becoming more consciously aware whenever Xiao was near. It was natural for you, as a young viable individual as yourself to be intrigued by your significant other's body. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for the other.

Xiao never mentioned the word ‘celibacy’ though the legends surrounding his name rarely left room for anything besides conquering demons. Though never spoken, everything he experienced with you was something new and coveted. He managed to make every memory something to be replayed over and over and over again.

It was sweet.

It was classic.

And it made you so understandably a little frustrated sometimes.

Blame the era gap or the influences of your peers, but there were times that you wished there was more. At times the thought felt selfish on your tongue. With Xiao there was little that you could utter and not get in return. The fact that you were currently laying against the flow of his body was testament to that. 

It wasn’t to say that they two of you hadn’t shared a bed before. Albeit sparse, you did know what it was like to tangle with an adeptus. Though the scarcity made it a difficult topic to brag about, not that you would do so.

That and you couldn’t necessarily blame him when you rarely asked. Xiao had more important duties than tending to you. He was the one of the saviors of the lands you called home after all. The sacrifice of settling for a few kisses here and there from your hero was enough. Brief brushes of lips when arriving and departing. And occasionally the more passionate exchange when time and the stars aligned. 

You were grateful for each and every moment you got to spend with him. But it was also incredibly human for you to still ask for more. 

Just above your head, Xiao inhaled sharply and the muscles of his abdomen tightened with the movement. You’d long forgotten what exactly had transpired in the last few pages, Xiao had adapted to your reading speed by now and simply assumed you’d finished when he turned to the next page. Hidden from your view, the pinch of his brow expressed his own investment in the little series that had been recommended by your friend. Though his light hum gave away his sentiment and bled into your imagination. You’d kissed that spot enough to know how well easily it could give away to the soft pressure of your lips. Occasionally, he’d surprise you by lifting his head to return the gesture. Soft, gentle and albeit a little timid, there was nothing you loved more than his kisses.

But oh how that would feel if he decided to travel with those lips. Sharp nibbles along the bridge of your collar bone, between the valley of your chest and more preferably towards the apex of your thighs. You had a few past scenarios to go by- plenty of novels you’d read in privacy. There was no certainty in knowing what kind of lover Xiao would be, but your imagination provided you the image of a gentle, thoughtful lover.

There had been many nights in the seclusion in your own room where you’d found pleasure in the dreams of him making you his newest conquest. The feel of his calloused hands stretching your leg over his shoulder as his teeth nibbled on the juncture of your thigh. 

You knew he had the desire. It was more than likely just the weight of everything else dragging his resolve. You thought it might have been helpful, however, sort of like a stress reliever. But Xiao was determined to forgo the pleasures of life to remain vigilant to his contract.

The last time you managed to catch him once, purely by accident when the two of you cozied up during the latest display of fireworks. Xiao had been the one to encourage contact, noticing every detail of you, including the slight shiver you gave under the blanket of night. He tried to warn you against following him to his designated viewing spot, urging that you would enjoy the display more with friends. But that night, you wouldn’t have enjoyed being with anyone else. So as the sky exploded with bright arrangements, Xiao had brought you into the circle of his arms and the warmth of his lap.

It hadn’t been intentional for you to shift your hips as you had. Truthfully, you’d been too engrossed in the newest inventions, pointing out each creative explosion as if you were seeing for him too. Xiao could be fairly quiet at times, more of an observer than a conversationalist. And in that moment, your mouth had been running so much it hardly felt any different than before. But the rigid shift was more than noticeable by Xiao.  It wasn’t until the sky came to rest, with his wavering breaths heating the nape of your neck with an unmistakable hardness at your back that you learned that your faithful adepti was capable of getting a bit overwhelmed.

By the time you’d come to realize what you were feeling, Xiao was politely sliding you from his lap as he stumbled to a stand. You’d been too stunned to complain when he offered to see you home. 

“If this is boring you, we can pick up another. The one about Inazuma was enjoyable.” It seemed as though he wasn’t completely ignorant to your lost thoughts. 

Oh, Xiao. Sweet, sweet Xiao. 

You wondered what he would think of you if he knew where your mind right now. 

Somehow you managed to smile despite only catching part of what he said. Whether it was out of understanding or simply used to your bouts of spacing, Xiao responded by gingerly tipping up your chin and  placing a kiss along your jawline.

Turning your head instinctively, you managed to find his lips instead. He humors you as he typically does, allowing your tongue to glide against his upper lip while your teeth nip at the lower. Xiao was an active learner, gaining his own quirks as he adapted to your playing style.

He was more than accommodating when you politely nudge away the book, unflinching when the spine thudded against the floor. 

Part of you wished Xiao’s smile wasn’t quite so heedless as you twisted around to straddle his waist. What you wouldn’t give to see a bit of heat behind his eyes, not unlike the fire he portrayed in battle. 

When you lean down to kiss him again, he’s more prepared to properly engage. His arms loop loosely around your waist, just enough to keep you in place without restricting your movements. You had no problem being in charge, as long as you understood what the boundaries were. And with Xiao you weren’t always so sure. 

You knew his stalemates, but he always seemed to try for your benefit. Just being with him like this was a testament to that fact. 

Closing his eyes, you felt him completely surrender to the kiss, body relaxing under your encouragement. But it wasn’t meant to be all about him giving. You wanted to give as well, but more importantly you wanted him to receive what he wanted- not what you expected of him. 

He was well practiced though. Tongue curling around yours before sliding back to coat your lips, proving that he does have his own tastes. 

Biting your lip, you drag your hands down the length of his loose shirt where they play with the edges for a moment. When you give it a soft tug, he breaks the kiss with a flushed face. This wasn’t an unexplored stage for you. He proves so when he sits up with ease, taking over to bring the clothing over his head. 

But you don’t want this to fizz out after a well asserted make out session. You wanted to take his leap and fall wherever it left you. 

Leaning closer, you press your temple to his forehead with a sigh. As perceptive as ever, Xiao catches on to the change in mood and strokes your sides quietly as you gain your bearings.

You were never a quiet lover, so why couldn’t you just outright and say it?

“I want to do other things… maybe?”

That was not at all how you planned for that to go. It left out too much in the open and the ambiguousness would only lead him to falter rather than take his own step forward. You wanted this to be a two person dance. If it so happened to be the tango, that was fine too as long as he was an active participant as well. 

“You want to be intimate?”

Blinking repeatedly, you give a slight shake of your head as you try to come to terms with what came out of your lover’s mouth. Surely your vigilant, though socially naive adepti lover hadn’t just outright asked what you’d been dancing around for weeks?

There is a hesitant, but surely knowing look in those golden hues as they ghost over your heated cheeks and comically wide gaze. He even manages a small shrug as if it was a natural conclusion to come to. 

“Don’t look so surprised. I might be … new to all this. But I’m not naive. Besides, you haven’t exactly been subtle lately.”

Well, just throw yourself off Mt. Hulao then.

Xiao only makes it worse by outright laughing at you, as his hands attempt to pry yours away from your face. When you only resist, his grip wanes as he leans in to kiss the tips of your fingers. 

Xiao tipped his cheek into your palm, the unrestrained affections always made the knots of tension and uncertainty melt away. “It’s fine. I’ve accepted this- you. I realize I’m not the most accessible person. “ His words encourage you to lift your head, swept into the determinedness of his voice. He doesn’t mention his karmic debt, an old tune outplayed by your defiance to let it affect your relationship. “But you know you can always call on me. Whenever you need. “

Time moves slowly as you lean in to kiss him again. An exchange that feels different yet so inherently possible by only two souls presents. Gone is the aged resistance tethering him back, gates open to welcome hot open mouths and curious tongue. The heated pants and soft moans could have been from either of you. 

Free of his shirt, there is plenty for you to explore as he answers the demand of your lungs and breaks the kiss. Your hands shake slightly, more from the rush than nerves as his mouth follows the roundness of your cheek to your chin. His temple nudges yours suddenly when your nails dips into the cut of his waist, touch leaving promises of what's to come at your peak. 

Breathless, you pant out," We don't have to go all the way." You had really planned to make a proper vacation out of his off day, not jump your lover the moment his guard was down.

Not that he was complaining.

Xiao lips part to make a gruff sound of uncommitted agreement that sends a shiver down your spine.His lips settle against the curve of your neck, gaze strategically hidden as you tug at one side of his pants before easing down the other. The heat of his face becomes more prevalent to you when you finally free him. Xiao hisses through his teeth as the cool air hits him, though the circle of your hand nearly chokes him as he ruts prematurely into the hold. 

It’s quite the sight, while partially obscured by the curve of his body against yours, the inexplicable knowledge of knowing that you have the conqueror of demons in this position— it takes an extra breath to steady the thud of your chest. You’re certain at this point, even untouched, you’ve soaked the space between your thighs. 

While your record hardly began, you knew enough that Xiao was barely a cut above average. A string of words that had no business being uttered in his direction; but for you, in these moment, was a form of relief. While the literature had held onto its romance, you weren’t ready to experience the pain of feeling something give away. Nor did you want to put Xiao through a moment of witnessing you suffer for his own pleasure. 

For now, you focus on the weight of him in your palm as you pump slowly, thumb coming up to collect the bubble of precum collected at the head. In contrast to your semblance of calm, Xiao trembles, mouth op against your shoulder as he pants against the fabric you neglected to shed. Suddenly the still rising sun feels as though it's at its peak as the room collects the warm from your bodies. 

Xiao’s hip jerk in motion with the next stroke, breath harsh as he mutters out broken speech. The yaksha is often reserved but never speechless. The sound of him stumbling over words is so foreign. It’s exhilarating, driving you with a new sense of determination as your hips edge to meet his. 

The rhythm you settle on is uneven but steady as you bump against each other without practice. Xiao’s hands are clenched against the fabric of your clothing as he cants into your space, face twisted in pleasure in the space behind your ear. Your wrist twists, wringing out every possible sound from his lips. Though no one will ever see, you’ve reduced the conqueror of demons to this. And you feel powerful for it. 

When you squeeze without warning, Xiao’s sharp cry threatens to escape the private moment between you. You watch captivated as his back arches, wrenching his head away from you. Its the first time since you’ve touched him, that you’ve seen the sun-warmed gaze. It’s the near feral desire swirling within them that prompts you crash your lips to his. 

Uncoordinated, but demanding hands tug at your shirt until it joins him on the floor. Not a hint of hesitance bleeds into his touch as his fingertips graze over exploration of your body. Even in his insistence, he’s still trapped by your own touch. You stroke him with a more confident deliverance now, testing the thralls of restraint. There is no doubt that you can bring him to that peak, the tallest climb somehow feeling the shortest in this heated moment. 

Xiao’s traveling touch halts at your waist as he sucks in a breath through his bitten lip. 

The thrill of power makes your head spin as you lean forward to ground yourself, burying your own flushed face into the dampened skin of his shoulder.

“Please…”

God, the waton sound of him losing his grip almost causes you to lose your own. Your hand slips against his slick length, the noises both obscene and erotic. 

The sound of your voice is raspy as you whisper against the shell of his ear,” Do you wish to be conquered, conqueror of demons?”

To hear his title, hard won and revered to be used so disrespectfully in his weakest moment— Xiao felt like he might lose his mind. It took the strength over every adversary he’d bestest to claw his way through the sea of pleasure you’d cast over his head. His resilience manifested by the strengthened grip of your sides. 

“Please ..I—” The adepti shuddered, crumbling to the mere flick of your wrist as you brought him closer and closer to the edge. He could feel the edge give away under his heels, calling him to a placed he’d never known before but was eager to explore. But not alone. 

With more strength than he knew he’d possessed, Xiao managed to circle his hand around yours to still your movements. The action brought about a pregnant pause, swelled by the harsh pants of body bodies as both came to terms with the bridge yet to be crossed. 

“Do you not want to…?”

Xiao’s body jolted at the first sound of uncertainty in your voice. Just moments ago he’d been so aroused by your confidence and stride. He would always be your protector but it had been exhilarating to be at your mercy. And he never wanted you to feel ashamed for it. 

“No, no I—” Xiao was frustratingly uncharacteristic with his stuttering as he struggled to manage simple sentences. Every word felt like it was floating just out of reach, yet the slight tremble of uncertainty in your exhale grounded him enough to yank them down. “I want to, just not without you.” He wanted to reach this peak with you. It only felt right that way. 

Xiao is pleased with the warmth of assurance he receives as he carefully draws your touch away from his most sensitive core. With slow deliberation he switches your positions, laying you under him as he braces above. 

“ I want to remember these moments for centuries to come, “ he whispers as his mouth descends. You barely manage a whimper Me too before his hips make contact with your again. From this angle, the friction is different and less one-sided than before. Not to say you hadn’t enjoyed reducing the adepti to a melted puddle of your devotion, but sharing this moment topped it. 

Your choked gasp is answered by a pleased rumble as Xiao splits your legs, rucking up one calf high against his thigh as he ruts downward. And now, now you can truly relish in the delicious agony you’d put him through only moments before. 

A crawl of exuberance flows through your nerves as Xiao looks down between your bodies in amazement, how even still partially clothed it could feel this good. The promises of what it would be like without seems to bleed from your thoughts to his as his stark gaze captures yours. 

Its clumsily and desperate but the actions of you two tangled up in the process of removing your bottoms brings a bubble of laughter to your lips. It causes Xiao to pause briefly, stuck in the moment of simultaneously tugging away his pants and sticky, sweat flattened strands of his hair with the other hand. It was memorable. 

A moment in time just for the two of you. 

You’re thankful that Xiao doesn’t linger with his gaze. Under the brightness of the day, you’re wholly unprepared for that kind of scrutiny. For now you want to take him in purely by touch alone.

“I want to taste you,” his words come as a soft plea, that you doubt he even realizes as his gaze swirls with desire. “Still together. But just for a moment.” Xiao remains endearing in his diligence to always put your well being first. It’s impossible not to tease him for it, just once. 

“Oh, you know, do you?” It helps to draw away from what you know the sight of you must be: a light coat of perspiration against your chest as your breath gradually evens, and your legs parted unabashedly around him. “Do you think about it when you’re off in the marshes alone?”

Whether or not your claims rang true, the bright tip to his ears was enough for you. Your head tips back with laughter as Xiao grumbles above you. It may have well enough continued like that for a few more bouts had you not felt the tips of his fingertips between your thighs. 

Despite the crawl of heat from his nape to his cheeks, a mirror of your own, Xiao holds your gaze as his digits slide through your slick before applying pressure at your entrance. Slowly but certainly, his confidence rebuilds as your body quakes responsively to his touch. Lithe fingers remain true to his novice learned craft, thrusting deliberately without any other distractions. But for you it's enough as your body curls and rubs against it. Your body is naive and greedy enough to soak every bit of pleasure, forgetting the technicality of it all for the promise of his affections.

Your thighs tense when his cheek falls to your thigh as he watches in rapture at how you clenches just because of his fingers. You want more of him. So much more. Likely more than either of you were ready to handle, but what was truly the scope when being with an adeptus?

The first lap comes with the short abruptness of a kitten lick, then another without rhyme. Each flick off his tongue off beat to the point that you’d drive yourself crazy just trying to keep up. Through the haze of pleasure, you run a hand through his hair and tug gently, shifting your hips to angle towards his mouth. Even his unsteady breathing against you is driving you mad.

“Oh…oh god,” you gasp, lowering a hand to the back of Xiao’s skull in reactive response.

You moan as you lift your hips off the sofa and try to press closer. You’ve given up on the ardent task of keeping your eyes open as your body begins to tremble. Through the haze of the pressure you’re experiencing, you manage to articulate the sound of his name. Xiao answers the call with a nod of recognition as his draws away. 

“Together,” he echos, licking his lips relishing in the heady taste of you. The insistence was the sweetest torture with the grandest reward.

His fingers drop from you to wrap around your legs and grip your thighs as he positions himself. Even his unsteady breathing against you is driving you mad. The first press of him is hesitant as he prods. Though you do your best to withhold, you flinch against your will still learning to take him. As his hips still you tense, eyes you didn't realize had close flashing open with surprise. 

“Xiao, I—”

With a fresh balm of tenderness, your lover quiets the staccato of your heart as he presses capture your lips in a slow kiss. One hand leaves your side to brace the side of your face, holding you close as he sucks intimately at your tongue. At your soft but even exhale, he pulls away enough to settle his forehead against yours. Together you both breathe in, slow but assured as your hearts tumble in tandem. 

Xiao follows every slow drag of his breach with soft words of encouragement and sprinkled endearment. He drowns the feeling of him breaching your most intimate spot with the sound of his devotion and commitment to you. It’s a valiant effort as his tone lifts you just above the searing heat of him filling you. Until it's not the feel of him settling at the hilt, but the carefully crafted I love you that nearly causes you to burst. 

“I love you too, “ you gasp around his name as he initiates a cautious cant into you, further encouraged by the clench of your inner muscles as you cry into his shoulder. The pace is gradual but deliberate, with all the strength of a general aged by eons of patience. 

His face mirrors your crinkle of concentration and pleasure. Neither of you expect it to last long, too overwhelmed by the sound of you.

Xiao is the one who takes the fact into stride, determined for you to know only pleasure as he urges you to match uptick in rhythm. The fabric of the sofa against your back is delightful, as his drives urge a path of friction. 

 Xiao would never forgive himself if he missed the telling flutter of your lashes just before you surrender completely to him. It drives him forward, determined to chase you to depths he’s never reached, piloted simply by the knowledge of meeting you there. You try valiantly to keep up, but he simply takes the reins for himself. His hands hold you determinedly in place as he thrusts until you’re light-headed and babbling. 

He would savor the feeling of you unraveling for more than centuries to come, for millennia even after he follows you to the place beyond this world. The adepti surges forward to swallow your cry as you shudder and quake around him. The wave of your warmth washes away his restraint as he crumbles, capsized by you once again as he collapses against you. 

Despite his weight, your chest fills with every breath to the brim as you slowly come down from what could only be the heavens. You’re too languid to move, too exhausted to think beyond the muscle of the man above you. 

The best you can manage is to curl your arm around his sweaty back, fingers tangling in his hair as he groans out a muffled sound of appreciation. Your heart thumps slowly against the slight upturn of his lips as you bite through your own, unable to contain your happiness.

Even if you'd both put up your best efforts, nothing would be able to stop the slow drift of your eyelids as you accepted the blanket of exhaustion that settled over you both. Xiao who would have shown the most resistance, carefully extracted himself with a grimace before settling himself with a huff between your parted thighs. Your hand, that had become dislodged in his adjustments, was brought back to the crown of his head before he settled with a slow exhale.

You smiled and resume massaging the pads of your fingers into his scalp. If it was to be said that the conquer of demons could slept the day away, it wouldn't be found on your lips.

As the faint sounds of Liyue transitioning to midday, echoed from below, you came to terms with the fact it was unlikely that the two of you would get much of anything else done today.

There would certainly be more ‘vacation days’ on the horizon.