synopsis: every attempt to leave is a reason for you to stay; or: unable to bear the thought of losing you, Lohen decides to offer the promise of his vitality for your everlasting “love.”
before you read: lohen x gn!reader, cw: yandere & suicidal themes, manipulation & guilt-tripping, mentions of guns, mentions of blood but not gorey, overall unhealthy depiction of relationships. **note: I don't think lohen would actually do something like this, but i just couldn’t resist after seeing him put a gun to his head in his trailer…
wc: 1.1k
thank u to @akamigi for the idea <3
“I don’t think this is going to work, Lohen.”
You can barely look at the man in your living room. The last time you had ever felt this apprehensive about something, it had been five minutes before your practical examination with the Knights of Favonius. Back then, your throat had felt dry, indicative of your nervous yet nonetheless hopeful anticipation.
This time, you taste bile, and its acidity makes you grimace with the same disgust flooding through your chest.
Lohen doesn’t look up when you approach him, lounging ever so casually on the couch as he scrapes dried blood from his spear. You frown at the way the flakes settle into your white carpet; it all serves to remind you of the innumerable deaths caused by his hands.
His collection of other weapons — his signature dagger, a mini crossbow, a musket you never knew he used, and a silver revolver — are still settled by his thigh. It’s a lot of weapons that he has. The thought that Lohen intentionally swaps between them to kill most efficiently makes you grimace again.
“Mhm, what’s not workin’ out?”
Lohen’s reply comes easily. It carries an easygoing amusement that makes your heart constrict in guilt. But you know you cannot afford to be soft with him anymore — there’s a sense of resolution in your chest about the fact that you’re going to leave him tonight.
“Lohen.”
His name comes out sharper this time, and the vice captain finally turns to look at you. He raises a confused eyebrow, shrugging at your sudden firm tone.
“I don’t think our relationship is going to work out anymore,” you muster out, trying to sound more resolute about the decision. Even so, there’s a hint of shakiness in your tone, and you know for sure that your boyfriend can sense your ambivalence.
Lohen gives you a delayed, lopsided grin, fingers pausing at the tip of his spear. You can tell he’s not quite sure if you’re messing around with him or not.
“Heh, you’re funny! Did Varka put ya up to this so he can get back at me? Tell the old man to try harder.”
Silence fills the room, and you wince at his disbelieving words. That’s when Lohen realizes that you are, in fact, not messing around with him for the sake of Varka.
That you really, truly, want to leave him.
“Look,” you sigh, working up the courage to explain your feelings. “I know Jean and Varka make these executive decisions, and I know you’re perfect for these kinds of tasks, but I can’t help but feel weird when you’re mercilessly killing every soul you see during your missions. It’s one thing to fulfill the Grand Master’s requirements, but it’s another to flaunt the genuine joy you felt when you murdered every single guard at that underground auction.”
You’re rambling now, trying to force all the words out before you must witness the disappointment that you’re sure is plastered on Lohen’s face.
“Don’t you see we’re not the right fit for each other? We have vastly different goals within the knights, and it seems to me that your only goal is to obsessively seek more power–”
You cut yourself off, unnerved by the lack of reaction from Lohen. When you dare to look at him, there’s a blank, frozen expression on his face. You don’t like how you’re unable to read him. You don’t like how his usual easygoing smirk has vanished, replaced by a clenched jaw.
Most of all, you don’t like how his crimson eyes are flat and dead.
When you were younger, you loved reading in Favonius Library. The romance novels you often indulged in would always describe a character’s anger or disappointment with things like “a shadow fell across his face,” or “her expression darkened.” In the past, you had laughed at the absurdity — how cliché and inaccurate! However, right now you think those sentences perfectly describe the terrifying expression on Lohen’s face.
You curse, suddenly feeling an immense, suffocating guilt wash over you. He hasn’t moved an inch or said a word, yet that blank expression on its own wrenches an apology from your heart.
“Fuck. Lohen, I’m sorry.”
He tilts his head back slightly, looking down at you through his lashes. The way his bangs fall across his forehead messily makes him look younger, yet also a little more unhinged.
“Hah…you want to leave me?”
Lohen’s voice comes out shaky and brittle — strained, so unlike the effortless manner in which he usually addresses you. It feels as if he might cry, yet not a single tear streams down his face. You think it’s a result of the numbness he’s used to feeling.
Lohen pushes himself off the couch, grabbing the revolver he still hadn’t cleaned. It’s a rusty red from his previous victims at that underground auction; now, you think it’s about to be painted with your blood, too.
He doesn’t point the gun at your head.
Instead, Lohen presses the cold barrel firmly against his temple, eyes wide and manic. He’s smiling so unnaturally that it petrifies you into staying frozen on that bloody carpet you previously couldn’t stand.
“No.”
“No, no, no. You can’t. Please don’t. Please don’t leave me.”
Desperation seeps through his words as he steps closer and closer to you, fingers shaking around the handle of the revolver.
“I’ll kill myself if you leave me. I’ll blow my brains out right here. I will, I really will.”
Lohen tilts his head against the gun, pressing the barrel even deeper into his temple. The cold metal bites into his pale skin, but he doesn’t care.
“Hate me with all your heart. Curse my name. Despise the very air I breathe. I don’t care. But please, just do it while you stay by my side.”
Dread seeps into your skin as his finger tightens against the trigger. His words are coming out fast and uneven, and you barely have time to process what he’s doing. His eyes are bloodshot, and the utter desperation in his words makes your heart drop cold.
You’re too scared to leave him.
Lohen knows that this is manipulation, but he doesn’t care.
If he cannot have your pure, unadulterated love, then Lohen will settle for your devotion born of necessity. He will take your guilt, your pity, and your obligation, and he will weave them into a rope that keeps you bound to him forever.
❅ Alhaitham x Layla ❅ It's a 50/50 Between a Soup Recipe or Research Paper
Layla had to get this done tonight. It was the 13th of February, and the stars weren’t being the least bit useful to her at all. All she would ever be blessed with is the page being covered with some extensively researched essay related to the holiday or any aspects of it, which wouldn’t do her much good in terms of trying to be romantic.
Though, Alhaitham is kind of the type to be seduced by someone’s brain and not their heart. Theoretically, she could actually give him a full-fledged essay on Valentine’s Day and he would be absolutely smitten. She knew better than to let Celestia take hold, though. If it’s anything she learned from the research that was apparently done, it’s that her message wouldn’t mean anything if it wasn’t from the heart. An essay that somehow spawned before her in the middle of the night wasn’t from the heart.
She had no choice but to think. It should be easy, but it was proving to be an awful task for two reasons: one, she was starting to fall asleep on herself, and two, the lack of energy made it almost impossible for her to think straight. Whenever she thought about Alhaitham in this state of mind, her thoughts would wander all over the place as if she were some lovestruck maiden drunk at a bar.
Well, if that’s how she thought about him, then maybe she should let Alhaitham know that, right?
Layla grabbed her quill and started sloppily writing away at the blank piece of paper. She only hoped that the end result would be somewhat coherent and that Alhaitham would interpret her message properly. Alternatively, she could splatter down a paragraph that resembles more of that of a salad recipe.
If that was the end result, then so be it. Alhaitham might find some charm in that. He finds her charming, and she sleeps for 20 hours a day, so it wasn’t a total improbability.
After a few minutes of writing, she no longer had the ability to form a coherent thought, so Layla sat her pen down and slid the card off to the side. She hoped that the cosmos wouldn’t decide to proofread it against her will ruining the intentions of her original message. Exhausted, she laid her head on the table, relieved to have finally finished her surprise for Alhaitham, and didn’t even last five minutes before falling asleep.
“Hm? What's this, might I ask?"
Layla was awoken by the feeling of a large, familiar hand on her shoulder. She turned around and saw with her sleepy eyes, Alhaitham looking down at her. His eyes were gentle with a shine of curiosity, as something had piqued his interest.
Then, she remembered. Before passing out at her desk, Layla scribbled down whatever came to mind to give to Alhaitham as a valentine. She hadn’t had a chance to read over what exactly she wrote to him as a precaution in the event of anything too...embarrassing. In a way, she was leaving her fate to the stars after all.
"Uhh...you mean the card?" she asked, sleepily.
Alhaitham nodded his head in response. Layla looked on her desk for it, thinking she had it stashed away from the stars for the night, but it was laying out in the open on the side of her desk. She hoped that the stars didn’t feel like playing a clever trick and decide to warp her thoughts, but she also hoped that it was at least semi coherent and they made some…necessary changes as well.
She grabbed the card and handed it to Alhaitham. No use in attempting to proofread it now.
"Here," she said. "I apologize in advance for what I probably wrote while on the verge of unconsciousness."
Alhaitham took the ink scribbled card and glanced at the pen strokes, as if he were trying to translate its meaning. Then, much to Layla’s dismay, he began reading it aloud.
"Alhaitham chest big. Alhaitham heart bigger. Good man. Quiet. Great naps together. Love that guy."
At least…it wasn’t a soup recipe? Even that would’ve been less embarrassing that whatever that was, though.
Layla's eyes became as wide as they could for someone with her degree of sleep deprivation. Her fears were not helped when Alhaitham smiled ever so slightly while allowing himself a laugh for the first time in a while.
"So uh....happy Valentine’s Day? I think?" Layla said, unsure if she had slept through the night.
"It is indeed, which is why I’m here to see you right now. I wanted to give this to you personally."
Alhaitham handed Layla a beautifully decorated envelope, closed with what she recognized as the seal of Kaveh's construction company.
"Kaveh insisted in contributing to the aesthetics, so I had no choice but to oblige. The words, however, are mine and mine alone."
Layla gently peeled the envelope open, careful as to not ruin Kaveh's design job. Inside was a beautifully decorated card, with drawings and cutouts of various Sumeru flora. It was likely Kaveh’s job as well, seeing how Alhaitham was better with words. She opened up the card and read aloud what he had wrote.
"Like Polaris guiding my way through the night,
“My love for you will always shine bright,
"The Sumeru roses bloom only for you,
"Through winter and summer, they forever grew.”
Now Layla sort of felt bad. Alhaitham worked with Kaveh to create her a beautiful work of art, and all she had to show in return was some sleepy drabbles? Maybe she should’ve sought out the assistance of the stars to make something at least somewhat sensible.
“You wrote this yourself, didn’t you?” Alhaitham said, still looking at Layla’s card.
“I…think so…”
“I can tell. This is exactly what’s on your mind, isn’t it? Not the ‘stars’ speaking for you?”
“Uhh…”
“You look as if you have seen a ghost. There is no reason for such fear to be struck into your heart, as I find your truth thoughts quite endearing.”
Her…true thoughts? Layla was too tired for this. She was always too tired for this. She continued staring at Alhaitham as if she were caught red handed.
“I’m so used to reading your thoroughly edited works that it’s refreshing to have a glimpse into your own thoughts. Its quite adorable.”
Layla was at a complete loss for words. She pulled her hood down over her face as far as she could in order to avoid eye contact with him. No matter what she did, she could not escape the embarrassment of her sloppily made card and Alhaitham’s unusual fawning over it. Layla shut her eyes tightly to further ignore Alhaitham.
“I look forward to seeing more of your writing like this, dear,” Alhaitham said, gently stroking her on the back. Layla remained unresponsible, with her hood still being held over her head and eyes shut tight. Alhaitham took quick notice of this, and gently lifted up her hood.
“Hmm? Are you perhaps asleep?” he asked.
Alhaitham received no response, confirming his suspicions. He couldn’t be mad, as he expected nothing less, and so he dragged a chair from the other side of the room to sit by her until she woke up, however long until that may be.
also would y'all mind if I made a whole thread detailing my botw au abt laytham? Idk if there are laytham shippers that also ship zelink but like if you think abt it a little it works (I think) 👀
✎ Alhaitham x Layla ✎ Study (They Mean Do Nothing) Date
Alhaitham had agreed to meet Layla for a study date to assist her with the structuring and drafting of her research paper. She had been unable to make any progress on her own, struggling with translating her thoughts into words in manner that was satisfactory. To help ease some of her stress, as well as squeeze in a bit of quality time together, the two of them set up a time to converse on the subject.
Of course, nothing ever got done on these little dates, much to Layla’s dismay. This time, however, was going to be different. For sure. Layla was going to stay entirely conscious and rely only on the help of Alhaitham for assistance. None of that “blessing of the stars” nonsense.
Or, that was the plan at least.
Layla always fell asleep shortly after Alhaitham would arrive. Unfortunately, because of her seeking outside assistance, the stars would deem her unworthy of their blessing, so she never woke up to find any of her projects magically done. In a way, she viewed that man as a setback to her academic future.
It was why that more than ever, Layla needed to remain awake. She was going to make considerable progress, whether she liked it or not, and Alhaitham was going to help make sure of it.
She organized what she could ahead of time, categorizing her notes into somewhat sensible groups and laying out disappointingly empty pieces of paper in front of her. Her eyes were weighing heavy with sleep deprivation, blankly staring at the page hoping for words to magically manifest before her. Unfortunately, that was not how writing worked, despite the endless wishes of countless drained Sumeru scholars echoing into the night. Layla could manage to write down a few words, usually constructing sentences that sounded as if they were strung together by a young child who had just found a dictionary. Before she would even be able to finish a paragraph, she would hate herself for the results of her nowhere near completed rough draft, then crumple up the page and toss it off to the side.
Alhaitham was greeted by the usual distressed Layla, surrounded by scrapped ideas and careless ink stains. Unlike a certain architect that constantly burdened him on a daily basis, Alhaitham was confident in Layla’s skills and value as a person. He always thought highly of her being a hard worker, perhaps too hard of a worker. Alhaitham at least knew how to pace himself, but Layla didn’t know when to allow herself a break.
Because of this, these little study dates of theirs were a cover-up for a larger plot of Alhaitham’s to allow for Layla to get the one thing she desperately needed; a well-deserved rest. Did it result in Layla hating herself for allowing herself to doze off? Perhaps, but it was a sacrifice that had to be made for the betterment of her health.
Alhaitham quietly made her aware of his presence, making sure as to not startle her out of her skin. He was greeted by her usual sleepy, half aware gaze, though her face lit up with a subconscious smile at the sight of him. Layla allowed for Alhaitham to take a seat next to her, practically taking up the entirety of the seat itself. There was just enough room for Layla to comfortably nestle herself between the arm of the chair and Alhaitham’s body.
He instructed for her to show him the notes that she had accumulated over time, pleasantly surprised with the amount of effort she managed to put into the organization. For someone who spent the majority of her life walking the boundary between the waking world and the dreaming stars, he was quite impressed at the coherent organization and reasoning of her gathered ideas.
Despite how much effort she had forced herself into preparing for their little date, Layla was fighting a losing battle from the start. Alhaitham’s presence was simply too much for her drained body, making the act of resisting sleep a near impossible task. A mere blink felt like agony to her, with each second of shut-eye causing Layla to crave longer and longer periods of restful darkness.
At this point in time, Layla’s accumulated hours of sleep likely totaled to less than ten for the entire week, and her lack of energy was causing her to fall further and further behind. To her sleepy, spaced-out mind, Alhaitham practically felt like a giant pillow, comforting the entirety of her body and drawing her in for a restful night’s sleep.
She wanted to fight it off. She knew she was better than this.
Alhaitham refused to show any mercy to her poor, drained soul. Without so much as bothering to brush over the unfinished work that lay before him, he lifted his arm to wrap around Layla’s body. He pulled her in as close to his body as he possibly could, careful as to not forcefully restrain her, but just enough for Layla to become engulfed with the strength of his body.
Layla couldn’t help but allow herself to relax under the gentle pressure of Alhaitham’s hold. She leaned her head against his chest, sinking into the muscle mass that she now claimed as her pillow. His steady heartbeat soothed Layla, who was already in a weak position from neglecting her sleep schedule for such a long time. Sleep was quickly beginning to conquer her.
A few minutes wouldn’t hurt, she would think to herself. Surely, after hours of staring at what felt like the same combination of five different constellation related words, she deserved a brief moment of shut-eye to refresh herself, right?
Alhaitham knew that he was successful in getting to her. He shifted his body ever so slightly so that Layla would be able to fall into him and drift off to sleep without the effort of keeping herself upright. Within moments, she was out cold for what he assumed was the first time all week.
With Layla now asleep, Alhaitham tightened his grip on her body ever so slightly so that her workaholic alter ego would be unable to wake and write the entire course of an essay in the span of an hour. He imagined that any attempts by her to break free would be met with such great resistance from Alhaitham that she would deem the effort not worth it and simply pass out in his arms once more. Strangely enough, this never once happened, as Layla peacefully slept through the entire evening. No disturbances, no restlessness, nothing.
It was a simple, yet effective plan for him to coax his beloved into taking care of herself. Alhaitham often wondered if Layla ever caught on, as she was no easy woman to fool herself. Perhaps she simply allowed him to constantly do this, yet refused to admit that she knew all along.
Regardless, it also provided Alhaitham with an excuse to hold her so close to himself, although, he wasn’t entirely immune to his own devious scheme. He would have nothing to occupy himself with for the duration of their “study session,” as he would be unable to move without the fear of disturbing Layla’s rare period of uninterrupted slumber. Plus, having her so close was quite comforting to him.
Compared to Alhaitham, Layla was quite small, yet his heart was struck in a certain way by gently holding her frail body ever so close. It was like cradling a baby bird, filling his normally lone heart with a happiness that could only be explained with the definition of love. Eventually, with a gentle smile on his face, Alhaitham would too, drift off to sleep.
Nothing would be accomplished that evening. No discussion, drafting, anything that could make as much as an ounce of progress. In fact, not a single word was ever exchanged between Alhaitham and Layla, but the two had the mutual understanding to where words need not be thrown about.
Platonic or not, think of it however you want, I just think Laytham (Alhaitham x Layla) is sooooo cute >°< (you could also think of this as Kaveh x Layla...? STILL SO CUTE!)
I've been drawing a lot lately so I decided to put it into use and draw some food for rarepair shippers ¬w¬
Also, I might draw a second part for this, but, as for now, have this hehehe...
