Alhaitham Genshin - Tumblr Posts
ラブ 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝖺 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗎𝗌, 𝟢𝟥:𝟧𝟢 𝖺𝗆 ロ —ドス
✿𝅼 psd : @miniepsds
I think Alhaitham is allowed to be more babygirl than Kaveh because of how pretty he is sometimes.
Sethos appreciation post because of how adorable he looks.
This was from when i played cyno’s second story quest.
Also honorable mentions for these:
Traveler looked so adorable here i had to appreciate. (Yes my name is Tighnari: it’s for the sake of a snapcube joke. The eggman one )
Im in love with this shot you don’t understand.
Also paimon ig..
Wives talking shit ab the traveler’s sword (i did too).
There are notable moments like every cynari family moment on screen but i didn’t screenshot it because i didn’t want to burn my phone so-
— out of this world (and into another) : genshin impact
premise: you could've sworn the transmigration curse didn't have an effect on you... so what exactly are you doing here?! (alternatively, you tumble straight into your favorite video game; and you're kinda fucked)
...or, a genshin manhwa otome game inspired au.
act i: scaramouche, alhaitham, wriothesley.
↳ act ii: lyney, neuvilette, kazuha, kaeya. (next)
warnings. fem!reader but can be imagined as genderless if u'd like hehe, a shit ton of manhwa tropes in one, this is a hot mess aka not proofread all that much, half clunky half decent writing
a/n: as promised via the poll heh,, while i do plan to make this an actual au, im not that sure ^^; just the tip of the iceberg here tho!!
MAIN MASTERLIST | AU MASTERLIST (coming soon)
YOU — unsuspecting civilian turnt transmigrator
you've always been too attached to fictional characters for your own good.
yes, even the ones that are remarkably irredeemable (the power of a backstory is very formidable) and complex (complexity is a virtue!)
villains have always been destined to die, be cursed, or destined to curse others. it was heartbreaking, really. you've wished for a chance to rewrite their fates for them to find even a sliver of happiness, even when the fate of their plot says otherwise.
which is why when you find yourself awake into the game of your dreams, “Teyvat's Seven Stars”, like any lover of cliche novel and manhwa tropes, this is the time you think that maybe life wasn't so shitty on you.
....there's only one tiny, teensy, itty bitty problem here, actually.
you're not the protagonist. you're not even one of the protagonist's faithful friends and underlings that light protagonist's road to conquering the world and its men (and as of the 4.0 update, it's women); no, you're none of those.
you're a no name extra, and not to mention, a character involved with the game's main villain characters who are coincidentally the love interests of the game's black route!
[ unlock transmigration package: ultimate transmigrator's route ( ????? MODE ) ]
[ no ] [ yes ]
( 国崩 ) SCARAMOUCHE — the tyrant
“as of today, you will be engaged to crown prince kunikuzushi, who is her grace the shogun's rightful heir to the throne.”
when given approval to stare at your so-called soon to be husband, you expect the worst, mostly. the multitudes of character dialogue you've played through detailing his rather discourteous personality (which basically meant he was a huge asshole) don't exactly paint a pretty picture.
however...
who was this tender hearted looking scaramouche that ‘obliterated armies in the blink of an eye?’ the t in tyrant stands for tyrannical, not timid!
eyes like lighting framed by the longest eyelashes you've ever seen and an unfairly pretty face, comparable to a fair lotus. after fawning over his otherworldly countenance, a sinking realization of dread pools in your stomach.
oh, you are so screwed.
essentially tied to the indigo-haired ticking time bomb of a future tyrant due to the strong standing of your family for a period of until the main story starts, you're destined to never get crown prince scaramouche's affection, being his fiancée who scaramouche is arranged to for political means only.
not to mention, you're in an even more deadly position; of all the characters you switched souls with, it's the one that essentially dies by their own fiancé's hand because they were horrible to him! what atrocious luck!
frantic, you wrack up about three ways to survive.
plan a) win over the shogun's favor by being an appropriate partner unlike the original flavor of this body, who resorted to bullying the innocent prince and unknowingly digging their own grave or b) be a guiding friend to scaramouche as he learns the ways of the world and c) make sure you don't end up giving the protagonist a bad ending via his twisted personality.
weighing all these options, you decide to do all three in hopes to cement a life instead of a deathflag. prevention is better than the cure (aka: the protagonist) after all!
(you may also just want to spend time with your favorite character. having a time limit and a sign that says ‘i'll die in the future!’ should at least warrant you extra time to show some affection to scaramouche, at least.)
so, you do what anyone in your position would do: give affection! lots of it.
admittedly, it wasn't all flowers and rainbows. scaramouche—ahem, kunikuzushi—was very shy and reserved indeed, with his mother ei even worse off! (besides, who trains and studies all day and has to stop crying every time they were injured?! that was just too much!)
it was rather hard at first, the frigid atmosphere of the usually silent Tenshukaku Palace almost impossible to permeate. but with your amazing charm (read: deathflag radar) and social skills, you manage to let the members of the Royal family open up to you.
speaking words of praise in ei's cooking (a very difficult feat to accomplish), spending afternoons with your fiancé and teaching him ‘how to be a shoujo worthy male lead, name-version’ (very confusing to explain), and the cherry on top, driving away that vile teacher of his—the Doctor—once word got out that he'd been taking advantage of scaramouche as a political puppet king in the future. trauma enabler destroyed! look at your immeasurable powers!
(“you're not a failure.” clasping kunikuzushi's hands in yours as he reels back from you. damn that doctor.
his tears shot a wave of heartache through you. you can't bear to see your favorite in such suffering. “whatever happens in the future, i won't abandon you.
no matter what, i'll always be on your side, okay?”
kunikuzushi looks at you with something in his eyes—something like adoration. “do you promise that?”
“yeah.” you say without hesitation, the glow of the sunlight hitting your face so dazzlingly that kunikuzushi's eyes widen that his mouth hangs agape in awe. “i promise, kuni.”)
to your greatest delight, your efforts worked in your favor.
ei now spends time with her son, and though it's almost always just a tad bit awkward, you and the guuji yae miko get the two to strike up conversation, and overtime, kunikuzushi becomes more open to you.
(“[name], what kind of man is your type?”
“huh? well...” you think for a while. this was a great opportunity to say it, right? that life changing protagonist quote!
“to me, the only person i'll ever like the most is you, kunikuzushi.”
“do you really, really mean that?” and oh, he looks so cute—flustered and red from your words. worth it.
“yup! now, i made some shimi chazuke, try some—”)
(admittedly, lots of favoritism is involved.)
—and while you reap the fruits of your hard work, you spend warm, sunlit afternoons with ei at tea, even learning about other nations from scaramouche's aunt nahida and even befriended a few of his future affiliates—childe (though for some reason, kunikuzushi always pulls you away from him whenever he spots the two of you together), signora (she tolerates you, you think) and etcetera.
(“then, if i do well, can you kiss me on the cheek, [name]?”
you agree, much to his delight. scaramouche avoids the gaze of a certain pink haired fox eyeing him questionably. unbeknownst to you, he glares at the woman's scrutiny.)
unprecedented things unrelated to the plot happen too; like how your family, which basically only saw you as a political bargaining chip and an unwanted child they could get rid of easily—no longer sent you any demeaning letters demanding money once scaramouche found out....
(“they've been leeching off of you for how long?” so scary... is this was kunikuzushi is like when he's worried?)
(“...kunikuzushi, how long will you keep up that weak-hearted facade of yours? if they find out how.... dishonest you are....”
“i don't need the reminders of a foxy old hag that doesn't know her place. this is fine as it is.”)
(you don't need to know.)
but, you're nothing compared to the inevitable flow of the plot. inazuma is wracked with war, and it just so happened that you'd been unceremoniously kidnapped by a certain resistance leader's trusted general, used as a hostage bargain for approximately the majority of your life. in the worst moments in your dreary cell, there's only one thought in your mind.
....kunikuzushi's face, devastated when he tries to reach for you, before slipping away from him like sand— face morphing into an unbridled state of rage that's too natural, too familiar. when did he learn to make a face like that?
(they say the kingdom was wracked with thunderstorms all night that day.)
afterwards, fate doesn't make it kind for you.
years go by in the blink of an eye, with your capture fervently forgotten in the midst of the growing animosity of the two conflicting forces.
although you did hear that yae sent out a search party for you while at the resistance's base, the shogun's forces never reached you.
eventually, you got released secretly by sympathy of kokomi, the leader of the resistance, who felt pity for you getting caught in the crossfire. letting you go under the condition that you'd likely never meet any of the precious characters you've gotten to know and change was a heavy price to pay, but you didn't have any choice.
indeed, no matter how much you tried to divert the plot, your duty as an extra has ended, and you were even lucky to even be alive. you could only hope that your fiancé—ex-fiancé—took note of your lessons well, bidding farewell to inazuma as you hop on the boat to mondsdat.
by now, you at least hoped that scaramouche and the protagonist met, his true chance at happiness starting now that you were basically dead.
(even if your heart felt like breaking into a million pieces.)
....is what you thought would happen, but why is it that after three years from your supposed capture, inazuma was still at war?
“that crazy prince... he's still working to find his former fiancée... and he's razing almost every village apart looking for them!”
“—didn't the shogunate say that whoever finds her would receive almost 3 million mora?”
“the entire lot of them are lunatics, i tell you. all because of a missing person, too!”
what's more, why was it still going because of you?!
( 艾尔海森 ) AL-HAITHAM: the information guild master
to be fair, normal people don't really run into one of their favorite characters often after transmigrating.
but to be fair, again, you certainly didn't think you'd actually be in your favorite video game franchise caged in bed with essentially one of its main love interests.
eyes wide and unceremoniously looking—definitely not ogling— at the toned body that's currently enveloping you in its arms, the soft tuft of ashy gray hair caressing the crook of your neck, murmuring incoherent mumbles of—is that another language?
???????
you blink, looking down at the bare body currently embracing you. oh. oh.
you're an extra.
you're just an extra, but why are you in bed, currently being served breakfast by the most gorgeous man you've ever laid your eyes on, with a pretty view of the rainforests' canopy?
“you should lie down. if i recall, sufficient sleep is required in order for the human body to perform its basic bodily functions. although our partnership is temporary, to let you fall to harm is a situation i'd like to avoid as much as possible.”
“....what?”
“...?”
the guild master, al-haitham, is a character in Teyvat's Seven Stars that is heavily debated on whether he's technically a villain or not. in the game, he's the right hand of sumeru's leader, nahida, working as the overseer of the AKASHA, a guild that gathers information to the nation's leader. he's a pretty shady character—always working behind the scenes and very unfalteringly blunt—and a ‘villain’ for crown prince scaramouche's route, helping the protagonist escape his clutches.
he's often the subject of comedic ire, his banters with a certain broke architect always the highlight of any bonafide al-haitham fan.
“we're expected to work together by lord kusanali's decree in the duration of investigating the hivemind project the lord suspects the baron siraj is partaking in.”
right, that one scene in the game where al-haitham needed to go undercover to infiltrate a coup de etat staged by one of the factions against nahida... right... what.
you were that extra! the one that fell in love with him and pined for his affection!
(“well, i get that part, but does sleeping together really have to play a part in this...?”
al-haitham gives you a mere quirk of the lip, tilting his head. “we do have to play the part of a married couple in dire straights, do we not? this cover is more efficient.
...besides, i don't have anything to complain about. you're certainly better company than kaveh.” )
in truth, al-haitham wasn't bad company. far from it. aside from the internal giggling and fangirling (you) and the incredible stack of books (alhaitham) that you have to see more than the grey haired man on a daily basis, the two of you work out a rapport that stems from memories of the body you transmigrated in.
he's nice to be around, surprisingly considerate when he wants to be—he tells you about the books he always reads....
(who even reads ‘20 Tongues Language Memorization Guidebook: A Basic Overview of Vocabulary and Terms’ for enjoyment?
the content makes your head run in circles because of how complicated it is; but who wouldn't like to listen to an extremely attractive man overexplain to you with a calm and pretty voice?)
...is generous enough to provide meals and cook dinners that have you crying tears of gratitude because you know how awful yours compares (it was either too bland or too seasoned; al-haitham is surprisingly picky when he wants to be)
(you assigned al-haitham the title of “absolute s-tier husband material”— his capabilities are out of this world!)
by chance, you once gave al-haitham a little tidbit of information that proved to be valuable later in the investigation—courtesy of your avid game knowledge—when you two had been lost to the psychological illusion magic cast by siraj when you two finally broke in his estate.
(“whatever happens, if siraj messes with your mind, just make sure to think of me instead of anything else.” al-haitham lets his hand find yours.
“you once asked me if i trusted you, [name].”
“....” you're treated to one of al-haitham's rare smiles, one that warms you up from within. “i do. so don't let yourself get hurt.”)
however, your temporary partner had faltered for once, flinching when siraj took the form of his old grandmother who'd passed to exploit al-haitham's mind, hesitating and frozen in place while siraj inched ever closer to finding out his weakness.
and you couldn't stand it, the character you cared for—the al-haitham that always had a plan, always knew how to stay calm, had looked so unsure and hopeless.
(“wake up, al-haitham!”
with you cradling his face, al-haitham stares back at the only constant in the memories of his grief, eyes meeting yours. “you don't have to do it all alone. i'm right here, aren't i? believe in me.”)
your (fake) husband snaps back to reality, finally allowing enough time to apprehend siraj and put a stop to his malicious project.
(“thank you.” al-haitham tells you solemnly. it hits you that this may be the last time you may ever see him. “i'm grateful that you brought me back to y— to my senses.”
there's a sincerity in your voice that rings from your heart. “anytime, al-haitham.”)
you thought that was the end of it.
defeating siraj meant you two no longer had to associate with each other, but somehow, to your great surprise, al-haitham doesn't stick to the plot at all. you were sure you didn't interfere with the game, though?
for some reason, al-haitham doesn't erase himself from your life, unlike the original route's flow.
in fact, he's become... easy to run into, a constant in your otherwise mundane life. he takes you out to lambad's tavern for an occasional drink, says he's lending you his headphones when you find yourself overwhelmed by the city (you were never good with noises) and even helps you out as you vent your problems to him.
(the day after, said problem conveniently disappears. how strange....)
and most of all, allowing you to enter his personal space... leaving kaveh's jaw dropping when he accuses al-haitham of having a lover.
“you're always going who knows where with them! what else is there to figure out?”
“...we are merely friends.”
“a friend that you let into your personal library? do they know that you still keep the ‘fake’ ring in a box inside the closet?” kaveh laughs. “nice try, al-haitham.”
(after all, kaveh could never unsee the way al-haitham's eyes softened at the feeling of the head on his shoulder lean onto him, with you no doubt asleep. he even took his headphones off! kaveh has never seen him actually take them off in order to keep the person who's sleeping on his shoulder as undisturbed as possible.
in fact, kaveh doesn't think he's ever seen al-haitham be this touchy or considerate with anyone this much before.
.....and most importantly, kaveh would never forget the way al-haitham, a man who found no merit in politeness and preferred bluntness, a man who preferred solitude rather than company—deliberately getting close to someone—pressing a fleeting kiss on the crown of your head.
kaveh blinks. it seems even the throes of love can reach even the most unconquerable of peaks....)
( 莱欧斯利 ) WRIOTHESLEY — the monster duke of the north
“—i need you to gather information on duke wriothesley. serve him undercover as one of the prisoners of the fortress.”
the duke of meropide—a man swamped with terrible rumors. they say he was exiled from the nation due to murdering his entire family. they say he possessed a face worthy of the title of a beast— grotesque, littered in scars. they say that any who end up in his estate, the iron prison of the north, meropide, never saw the light of day again.
(“only criminals of the worst kind are fated to be sentenced there. nobody returns, so we've stopped questioning it...” )
so to say you're not fearing for your life that bad right now is a massive understatement.
“now, mind telling me how you were able to sneak into the most impenetrable prison in all the land, miss prisoner?”
how did it end up like this?
so you wake up and find yourself in jail. lovely.
seriously, of all the places you can transmigrate into, why did it have to be fontaine?! Teyvat's Seven Stars chapter 4's main starting point, the nation of justice is littered with dark themes and high difficulty capture targets.
.... such is the case with the man in front of you. unlike what the rumors of him say, duke wriothesley paints a rugged yet dashing picture of a nobleman, even if he was —if you recall— one of the hardest capture targets to conquer in the game.
a villain character who you played once during one game route, acting as the driving force during one of the love events of one of the protagonist's other love interest, lyney. duke wriothesley almost assassinates lyney's younger brother, freminent, leading lyney to rally up a certain group to bring the nobleman down.... a typical side character villain, who's existence was added as late as 3 patches away from lyney's.
(even inazuma would be better than this! at least the tyrant route could be avoided, and let's not mention the easy sumeru route as well...)
“well, miss prisoner, cat got your tongue?”
in summary: fortunately for you, the body you transmigrated is in the position to spy on the current affairs of the fortress of meropide, with courtesy and with permission of one of Fontaine's leaders, neuvillette. unfortunately for you, it seems our dear monsieur wasn't able to inform wriothesley beforehand, leading to the current situation.
aka, you're pressed dangerously close to wriothesley's chest, with a knife at his throat and his hands pinning you against the wall, noses almost touching. you're not sure if this is even the kind of tension that two people who are trying to kill each other are supposed to have...
(“i'm an ally!” you sputter out. wriothesley raises an eyebrow at you. “monsieur neuvillette sent me.”
“how am i supposed to trust you after i saw you slinking around here, knife at my throat?” he replies, eyes narrowing. “i know that i'm labelled as a beast, but i don't really know what came over that pretty little head of yours when trying to sneak into my chambers.”
what does he take you for?! “...are you accusing me of something indecent?!”
“just saying — i've met lots of prisoners with your excuse, my lady.”
“i'm prepared to use this knife, you know.”
“hah.” wriothesley grins. “how aggressive. more aggressive than most. do you want me that bad?”
“stop twisting my words!”)
in any case, you hate wriothesley. you know he's one of the characters in Teyvat's Seven Stars and is a villain for one of the easy love interest routes in the game, but his personality is... a real piece of work.
you'd rather the protective and kind kazuha, or even the charming and elusive lyney! why did it have to be him?
not only did he not believe you, he even told you to prove your authenticity! you're just glad that his assistant sigewinne had been there to vouch for you — you're not sure if you'd even be on your two feet right now if she didn't.
so now you're stuck constantly on your feet, running to and fro — helping the dark-haired man record new prisoners, establishing trading routes to the main city of Fontaine, and treating other prisoners of the fortress with sigewinne.
your biggest surprise by far, though, is just how... different the duke is from the rumors. his scars were merely battle scars of honor (to which sigewinne rolls her eyes, “your grace, please stop trying to look cool”) he got from various succession fights, not scars to show how he was cursed to turn into a beast. he has a love for tea, but always seems to have a cup of your favorite blend with him when you feel tired after a long day of working (laboring) for him and the estate.
(“your daily report of new convicts, your grace.”
“-this is the tea you like, your grace. i've prepared it in advance.”
“you're very adamant on proving yourself. aren't you sick of such tasks by now, miss prisoner?”
“no.” wriothesley's expression screams 'why not?' on it. “ it's because of my own misjudgement of you.”
“...elaborate.”
“i may have had unnecessary prejudices on your conduct thus far. but you're... not like what the rumors paint you out to be.” you say sincerely. “you're more amazing and incredible than anyone else. i truly do admire you.”
wriothesley's expression; you couldn't decipher it. “i see.”)
he's battered, but caring. sigewinne makes you watch (in horror) as she doodles cartoonish looking characters on his face when he's asleep — wriothesley never fusses, only an exasperated sigh to his assistant. he's harsh with his tasks and duties, but is the first to rush you into sigewinne's infirmary to tend to you after you pass out from overwork.
(“don't worry, [name]. the duke may not look it, but he's very gentle!” sigewinne giggles. humoring the little girl who was the first to show you actual decency in this place, you try to nod. sigewinne doesn't seem convinced.
“i'm serious! after all, compared to other people who've snuck into the fortress, you're the first he's treated this way.” she says cheerily.
“what does that mean?” you can't help but scoff at that. “so he just works someone to the bone from the get go?” you shudder. damn production zone...
sigewinne blinks. “ oh no, not like that. it's just that he's never been so lenient before. in fact, when you fainted, he even gave me the order to prioritize treating you over anything else.”)
well, this wasn't exactly what you thought you would be doing when you transmigrated into your favorite game, but you suppose you can take it.
besides, you'd miss a certain duke otherwise. life truly is full of strange twists....
a/n: thank you for making it this far! if anyone asks why wriothesley's was short, listen, this was completely impulsive and i was out of inspiration LOL, but i do hope you enjoy! look forward to new parts though hehe :3
@ ICEUNHIE: do not repost translate or plagiarize my works.
18+||MDNI
Pussy eating enthusiast Alhaitham...I’m dizzy. He’d have you sit on his face, holding onto your hips hard enough to leave bruises. The soft grunts he makes and the evident bulge in his pants go straight to your core as he tirelessly devours your pussy until he’s satisfied.
18+||MDNI
Alhaitham groans so loud when he eats pussy I know it. He literally can’t get enough of you.
18+||MDNI
Alhaitham’s cock is so thick :( He always scoffs when you whimper and squirm at the feeling of him slowly pushing into you, but it just makes you feel so full n warm, how does he expect you to stay still and quiet? What a bully :(
i visited idiot street and everyone knew your name!
part i, part ii, part iii
a/n: i wrote this for valentines last month and only got around posting it now, here you go!
synopsis: the three times you friendzoned Alhaitham, and the one he made damn sure you didn't.
tags: alhaitham/reader ; childhood friends to lovers ; school setting ; valentine's day special ; reader likes sewing
“S–sorry! These are for you!”
A breathy utterance, the girl speaking is shy and completely red in the face, while holding out the pink paper bag like an offering to some higher being—and maybe to her, he is.
You swear you can almost hear the cheesy background music that television shows play with these types of scenes, you lean in as much as your desk will let you and strain to hear his response. Gripping the wood of your desk tight. Some of your other classmates are tuning in too, drama hungry vultures they are, you can feel the buzzing energy of anticipation waiting for his answer.
Without missing a beat, he offers her a shallow nod of his head.
“Thanks.”
…and another one bites the dust.
Slumping back in your chair, you gaze at a disheartening confession scene from your seat across the room, picking idly at your sandwich’s crust, sighing to yourself and for the poor girl that has been plainly rejected by Alhaitham.
The whole class either lets out sounds of disappointment—they only wish that once Alhaitham is off market, they’d have their chance, though you doubt it—or loud sighs of relief—aka, those who, too, wish to make themselves known to him. They all don’t register much to you though. All you can see is her crushed expression.
He isn’t even looking at her for goodness sake. Poor girl.
Valentine’s day is not only a day of cheesy confessions and plush teddy bears and chocolate (though you especially enjoy those), for those lonely souls without a valentine it is the perfect day for witnessing the drama unfold. It’s like watching a telenovela in real time.
Alhaitham is that telenovela’s perfect lead.
He’s breathtakingly handsome even as he delivers the driest response to whatever-her-name’s confession. His gray-silver hair tumbles artfully on his head and glints as the afternoon sun outside hits just right. The aquamarine of his eyes are enrapturing and absolutely intense as he stares down his new goodie bag.
It’s a little silly to see such a stoic man gripping heartsy pink gift bags that are filled with the high quality chocolate you can only dream of. His marble-carved physique and top tier face makes up for it though, it makes it all the more endearing to you. You understand wholeheartedly why he’s such a magnet for so much romantic attention. Not that you’d fall victim to it yourself.
You find yourself unable to conceal the way your lips turn upwards in amusement, a little cruel knowing the situation. Taking a generous bite of your sandwich, you laugh to yourself quietly (honestly, you’re making it seem like you’re not all there).
“What’s so funny?”
Summoned by your laugh—or the thought that you are laughing at him, for some not-so-crazy reason—he stands tall in front of your desk.
You’ve known him since your bratty elementary school phases, you’ve fought, pulled at each other’s hair but you consider Alhaitham to be your closest and oldest friend. Before he was a stunning romantic magnet, he was an insufferable book worm in junior high.
When you started exploring your interest in sewing and fashion design, he was by your bed and bluntly critiquing any piece you’d show him. You have come a long way since then, having become an integral member of the fashion design club.
You crane your neck to look at him, giving him a lazy grin, you kick blindly at his shins from underneath the table in an attempt to draw some form of reaction (though he doesn’t even bat an eye).
“Nothing, nothing,” you wave him off, speaking through a mouthful of peanut butter and jelly. “As long as you’re on the market, there won’t be enough for the rest of us.”
He gives you a look, though you can’t take it as seriously, he’s still holding all those valentines. “Irrelevant. Your sense of humor needs fixing, not even Cyno would find you entertaining.”
“First off, I do not appreciate all this sass.”
His lips twitch. “I had quite the persistent teacher.”
This time, you flat out laugh at him. “Whatever,” you snort. “Anyway, you should consider taking up acting. Pretty boys like you will have people salivating like starving wolves.”
He pauses and just stares at you, it’s a little peculiar and totally out of character for him, you tilt your head in confusion.
“Pretty boy?”
You almost choke on your sandwich, bringing a fist to your mouth through coughs. Out of everything you said, that’s what he chooses to focus on?
“Uhm, yeah,” you mutter, laughing sheepishly, and suddenly feeling out of place. Internally, you cringe at yourself. “Have you ever looked in a mirror or something?”
Once the words tumble out of your mouth, you feel the heat of mortification crawling up on the expanse of your skin. Oh my god, do you ever stop talking?
Alhaitham says nothing, he stares you down with the intensity increased by tenfold. If anything, the expression on his flawless face looks displeased.
“I meant platonically, of course,” you blather on, pointedly avoiding eye contact. The table looks especially interesting as of the moment. “I mean—I would never—”
He puts his free hand up, sharply stopping you from going further on your flustered tangent. Something you are all too well acquainted with, Alhaitham does not have much patience for dalliances. Immediately, your jaw locks shut—you’d rather not start a fight with him if you wanted to mooch off all the valentines chocolate he received.
You take another big bite of your sandwich.
You roll your eyes, mumbling. “Okay, whatever. Don’t be a pretty boy, then. As long as I get a share of your chocolate, it’s whatever you want.”
“I didn’t say anything about that,” he deadpans. In his arms, the goodie bags shift as he moves closer.
A small plastic-wrapped chocolate box is dropped inelegantly on your table, resounding with a heavy thump. It’s pink and smells heavily of chocolate and cinnamon. Your eyes widen at the pleasant surprise—but more importantly, the price. A crazed smile curls from your lips, and you clutch the chocolates to your chest.
You gasp. “Oh my—fuck! Haitham, these are like a thousand mora a box!”
Alhaitham raises a perfectly arched brow. “Is that so? I should get it back then.”
Even if you’re pretty sure he’s only messing with you, your hold around the chocolates tightens into a death grip. You turn your chest away from him, shielding the box away from his view.
“That’s too bad,” you sing-song. “No take backs.”
A smug smile tugs at his lips before it completely melts away—the thing that growing up with a boy so ungenerous with his expressions makes these small moments all the more special.
“Then I’ll just have to keep the rest of these for myself.”
“Haitham, no! You promised to share—”
i visited idiot street and everyone knew your name!
part i, part ii, part iii
synopsis: the three times you friendzoned Alhaitham, and the one he made damn sure you didn't.
tags: alhaitham/reader ; school setting ; valentine's day special ; reader likes sewing ; miscommunication
Valentine’s day comes rolling around the next year, and you are sadly not present to witness Alhaitham lengthen his trail of broken hearts. A shame, really. This year, you were looking forward to bringing popcorn for the occasion—just to see him squirm.
You’ve been cooped up in the homeroom lab for the better part of the week, sewing and snipping away at one of the costumes for the school’s fair. Unlike last year, you don’t have your seniors to help you pin fabrics right or to assist in hand stitching plastic beads, as the newly appointed tailor's club head you have a lot more duties to take on.
It’s exhausting, you feel the deep creases underneath your eye—dreading to head to the bathroom and accidentally look into the mirror to face your own haggard appearance—and the dull ache in your hands and back is blocking any sense you could have.
The club room is otherwise quiet if not for the lo-fi beat playing from your phone’s speaker and the rhythmic snips of scissors gliding over fabric. You focus all your brain power on the task—fabric is not cheap and you don’t have enough mora in your wallet if you lose focus and mess up—and remain blissfully unaware of any potential distraction.
To be honest, it hadn’t even registered in your head that you weren’t alone in the room anymore, until the gentlest tap on your shoulder has you snapping your focus away from the brocade.
The sight of just who has you unconsciously gaping your mouth like a blubbering fish in shock—Alhaitham.
He stares at you blankly, his gaze is so intense it’s a little unnerving, you freeze up before him, and probably make yourself look like an idiot in the process.
Suddenly, the state of your appearance becomes a presiding worry. Having skipped lunch in favor of patterning tulle perfectly on the dummy mannequin. Your uniform is crumpled, creased with the lack of motion, stray threads and fabric fibers cover you head to toe similar to lint. It’s almost humiliating to be seen so disheveled by Alhaitham—when he himself looks like the epitome of put-together flawlessness.
“Haitham,” you start, smoothing out the fabric laid out on the table, it’s soft and smooth under your fingertips. “Need something?”
He spares a glance to whatever you’re fidgeting with behind you then to your face, which in turn makes you fist the work-in-progress fabric tighter in your hand.
Alhaitham seems to search for something in your expression, his gaze feels like it’s poking and prodding in your soul. Your hands itch to cover up whatever’s he’s fixated on, but you settle on the second best option; staring back just as hard and ten times more intensely.
“The second button of my shirt,” he says, Alhaitham points at his stark white button up, right where a button lay missing. You arch a brow at that, he’s most definitely only here to ask you to mend his shirt. No other reason.
And you are definitely not disappointed right now too.
Swallowing hard, your eyes drift to his face. “Do you need a replacement button?”
A crease forms between his brows. “No.”
Well.
“O-kay,” that stumps you, “What about it then?” you shoot him a puzzled look, folding your arms tightly across your chest.
That makes him pause. “I wanted to check if you wanted it.”
“…your button?”
“Yes, that’s why I came over here.”
He must be kidding. The two of you are standing in the homeroom lab, there’s a surplus of small white buttons, you’d rather pick from there than have him ruin a perfectly good shirt.
“Uh no thanks,” you scratch at the back of your neck, extremely confused. “I have a lot more buttons in the drawer, there’s no need to take one off your back.”
Once you said that and saw the expression on his face, you knew immediately that it was the wrong choice—even if it wasn’t a test question. Alhaitham does not pout, but that’s something he would say. If you were asked, the way his lips twitch downward slightly is pouting.
“I understand,” he says shortly and starts to turn back and reach for the door. You cannot hide your bewildered expression, pinching your brows in confusion.
“Wait—hold it right there,” you call, stepping a step or two following him. You, not wanting your conversation to end on such an unusually awkward note. “What’s up with you?”
“It’s nothing,” he says and you practically hear the sulky edge to his voice—something you swore he left back in middle school—still, he turns back to face you. “If you don’t want it, I won’t give it to you.”
Sighing, you step even closer to close some of the distance, holding your palm out impatiently to him. “Come over here, grumpy. I’ll take the button.”
He eases up slightly. “Don’t force yourself.”
Why you ought to wring this man by the neck. You place your free hand to rest on your waist. “You’re not forcing me, now hand it over.”
Alhaitham stands his ground, but eventually cracks, offering a compromise. “...I’ll leave it on the table.”
“Okay,” your eyes flutter shut in exhaustion and slight irritation—confusion more than anything. “See you, Haitham.”
He bids you goodbye, calling your name softly.
You hear the door slide open, then shut.
When you open your eyes, a singular translucent white button sits on your working table—along with a box of fine confectioners chocolate.
What a loser, you think. Though your smile betrays that thought.
You skip back to your work and suddenly, you aren’t so exhausted anymore.
i visited idiot street and everyone knew your name!
part i, part ii, part iii
a/n: the well awaited end to this fic is here! enjoy :)
synopsis: the three times you friendzoned Alhaitham, and the one he made damn sure you didn't.
tags: alhaitham/reader ; school setting ; valentine's day special ; reader likes sewing, miscommunication
It’s Valentine’s Day, and the most unusual thing to ever happen to you—happens.
A pristine white note falls out of your locker, and you never thought you would see the day. You’d assume, being a workaholic and being relegated to tasks (due to people pleasing tendencies you can’t seem to shake off), that you’d finish off the school year without falling victim to Valentine’s day sickeningly sweet confessions.
Please meet me in the homeroom lab after classes. – H
If it was any other day, you’d assume one of the teachers wrote you this note, and that you were going to be subjected to a ruthless talking-to. Yet, coincidentally, it’s that time of the year, and everyone else is getting notes like these too.
For the fun of it, you still decide to go where the note directs you. Mostly because you’re deathly curious to who this H person is. No expectations, of course.
When the dismissal bell rings, you quickly scramble out of your classroom, pointedly ignoring your friend’s confused call of your name. Leaving your bag and belongings behind. You’ll get back to her later—but now, the curiosity is killing you.
You navigate the sloppily decorated hallways; passing by lovestruck couples and through streamer paper decor of pinks, whites and reds. Cupid balloons and the overwhelmingly sweet scent of roses suffocate your senses.
The homeroom lab is at the end of the hallway, where all the decorations dwindle or are practically deflating with the lack of attention to detail—it irks you slightly, if this is a confession like you suspect, the surroundings could afford to be somewhat romantic. Not this cheap, unenthusiastic mess, it certainly wouldn’t be helping your case.
Your eyes lock onto one heart helium balloon, it drifts aimlessly across the floor—not enough to float up but not completely deflated. You glare at it, like trying to pop it with only your gaze, then to the door.
Steeling yourself, you take a breath then slide it open.
The last person you ever expect to be there, is there too.
“Alhaitham?” you ask, breathless and puzzled.
Was it him that sent you the note?
You shake that thought away, although you got your hopes up the tiniest bit, it’s probably unrelated to anything hearts themed. You’re pretty sure he’s been actively avoiding people confessing to him today. Maybe that’s why he hid in here, you muse.
“It’s me, yes,” he nods. “I assume you read my note?”
You laugh, shutting the homeroom lab door unceremoniously behind you. “That was you? Dude, you could’ve just told me, what’s with all the secrecy?”
“There’s something that I need to discuss with you.”
“Discuss with me,” you repeat, walking over to lean against the working table. Which, thank heavens, is pristinely clean. “Am I in trouble?”
“No,” he responds and you hum in faux relief. “Though there is something else.”
Alhaitham produces a sleek black chocolate box from seemingly nowhere—or maybe you hadn't seen him hold it—and holds it out to you.
“Sweet!” you grin, snatching the chocolates and examining the box. “This is some really good chocolate, Haitham. Who gave you this one?”
“No one,” he says. Alhaitham picks at his black painted nails—ones that you yourself painted a few weeks ago in his apartment. The polish is immaculate, almost looking freshly painted if it weren’t for the new nail growth starting underneath. “Those are completely from me, for you.”
You double take, taking a long lingering look at the gift. On the smack middle of the box, is the same type of note from earlier in your locker, but this has your name written in elegant cursive:
Happy Valentines. It writes, and you feel strange tingles travel down your spine. Not entirely unpleasant.
“You shouldn’t have,” your eyes widen. “I didn’t get anything for you, I never thought we were getting each other friendship chocolates!”
There’s a lengthy pause before you hear any reaction from him. Alhaitham makes a strangled noise from deep in his throat. “Friendship chocolates?”
He stresses your name, while massaging his temples. “...I wrote you that note, I waited in here for you and have the audacity to think what I gave you are friendship chocolates. Does that sound logical to you?”
“Of course,” you snort, putting down the chocolates to rest on the low table. “The only other reason I can think of would be because you like me, which I doubt—”
His lips flatten in unamusement. “So what if I do?”
“Wait, what?”
He inhales deeply, and you swear you see the slightest hints of pink on his ears that peek from underneath silver hair. The silence now is absolutely deafening, and the anticipation even more so. To you, the knowledge of his bashfulness makes the situation feel all the more real.
Alhaitham utters your name softly, like he’s pleading you to understand so that he needn’t repeat himself. Which he never does, the damn prideful man.
You’d make a teasing remark if you weren’t so frozen with nerves, the sound of your name from his lips is causing ticklish shivers up your spine. It sounds so intimate when he says it.
Like a secret, even. Although Alhaitham might be the most self-preserving and unambitious person you know, when it comes to the things that matter to him—he takes initiative right away.
“So you like me–” you breathe, the button up collar of your shirt feels all too tight all of a sudden, you tangle your fingers together and squeeze tightly. “Like, like like me?”
“I’ve been trying to tell you,” he sighs, low and long-suffering. “For three whole years.”
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
Your eyes widen and you feel a low simmering heat spreading all over, even till your fingertips. You recall all the other times, past Valentine's days and recounting his strange behavior. All the dots start to connect together and you wonder how you never noticed. “What the hell.”
“So that one time last year when you were offering me your button—” you gasp. You remember, it’s a stupid highschool tradition, a boy would offer the second button of his uniform to a girl if he liked her. It’s the closest to the heart, but to you, it’s a thoughtless way to ruin perfectly good clothing. “Haitham, did you ask Kaveh for advice or something?”
“Matters like these are irrelevant to argue with him about,” he scoffs. Alhaitham folds his arms across his chest. “He ran off and came to the conclusion himself. Ever since then, he’s been bothering me with trying all types of confession tradition.”
Laughter starts to bubble out of you, disbelieving and flustered to the maximum level. “Dude, I basically friendzoned you and had no idea! You should’ve told me.”
His shoulders stiffen and he gives you such a disarmingly attractive look. And if your eyes dare deceive you, he looks the teensiest bit hopeful too. Right now, you feel like your heart is beating right out of your goddamn chest. The sound is so loud, the quickening thumping sound of your chest that you swear he might hear it too.
“...I see that now,” he says, his expression is exasperated—but so unbelievably soft. You feel yourself melting like butter under his gaze. “Though I am disappointed in your lacking ability to identify context clues.”
“Oh whatever,” you bump your shoulder against his, though you don’t move back away. The warmth of him is all consuming and comforting as hell, you could burrow yourself in him and never resurface, you think. He accepts your closeness with a strong arm wrapping behind you to hold you by the hand. Your stomach does somersaults in your stomach. “It’s all your fault. You’re an idiot for not telling it to me straight.”
“Does that mean you reciprocate?” he murmurs, leaning closer to whisper in your ear.
You pull back enough to take the box of chocolates, opening it and popping one in your mouth. “This chocolate is pretty good. Guess I’ll have to let you stick around for more.”
I like you too.
He nuzzles into you, leaving a chaste kiss on the crown of your head. “I guess you do, don’t you?”
Character : Alhaitham.
Mentioning: ?- sfw, Slightly ? words.
Themes: Just normal. Nothing strange. Trust me.
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
As usual, the situation at the House of Daena. Doing the same work as when you were a scholar even though you have graduated.
You're tired after reading your 4th book today. The pile of books covering your desk makes your eyes roll. You rest your chin while nodding off. Sometimes, your mind wanders only towards food. You haven't filled your stomach all day. Remembering it already makes you drool while yawning. But the knock of a book hitting your head ruins your happiness.
"Don't fall asleep in the library." Alhaitham said.
"Ow, aw… Alhaitham, you don't have to hit my head." You winced in pain as you wiped your lips. This is the umpteenth time he hit your head because you were too stunned. You are a little worried about the cells in your brain falling out one by one as a result of it and only one remaining from each blow that still survives the loss of your brain cells. No wonder, if your ranking falls one level below him in the academic ranking. You have to blame him for that.
"It's effective in awakening you, which is the most difficult to call. It knocks out your brain cells." He said sarcastically. His gaze looked at you who was wiping your lips due to being too stunned. He knows your behavior that often refrains from eating while studying. For some reason, there is a feeling of urgency that creeps into his body every time he sees your lips. But he tried to hold it in.
"I didn't fall asleep." You refute your rival's words with a small snort.
"You're not good at lying. There are bags under your eyes, you look like a panda." Alhaitham said a little scornfully.
"So what if I don't sleep enough? What do you care?" You asked back sarcastically.
"What's wrong with people telling you to rest?" Alhaitham folded his arms while looking at you who was still leaning against the table.
"Wow? It turns out that a Sage who is more busy taking care of himself actually cares about those around him. Uhh, how scary." You said while rolling your eyes.
Your words made his ears twitch in annoyance from behind his earpiece. Kaveh and you both gave responses like that when they didn't like the conversation with him. But, you are an exception.
The two of them were academic rivals when they were both at Academiya. Lisa, who was still at Academiya with them before graduating early, often shook her head when she saw them arguing. Sometimes she teases the two of them whenever they start fighting and calls them two lovebirds. Of course you responded with cynicism from you not wanting to be paired with someone like him.
You are the easiest person to lure with food. As long as there is food, even those of you who are angry can be tamed with just a packet of candy. But, sometimes you argue that you are not that easy to tame with just a packet of candy. Alhaitham always keeps a personal note of this.
Imagining that you are being tamed with sweets may be one of the things that entertains him if you are someone who is easy on him. But you do not.
Once, when you were in a bad mood, Kaveh tamed you with food. Of course you can't refuse it, especially free food, your eyes will immediately light up. "Food?" Kaveh grinned while nodding.
"I- um, I'm not that easy to tame with food." You said as you folded your arms in annoyance.
"Oh? Too bad, it's limited—"
"Give it to me." You said as you snatched it from Kaveh's hand before he changed his mind. Kaveh laughed as he patted your head. "Is that enough to calm you down?" he asked. "Not yet." You said while chewing your food. Just imagine Alhaitham being like that for you. I don't know what you bitten. Either the food or the hands. He didn't mind—
Maybe it's worth a try. He thought.
The next day, he put a small package of food on your study table and you looked at him suspiciously.
"Eat." he said briefly.
"I'm not hungry." You said. Your gaze shifts back to the book. But your stomach rumbles after a split second of refusing to eat it. "Dang it." You think.
"Eat." he said once again. It sounded more like forcing than ordering this time.
"Can I really eat in the library?" You asked while looking for an excuse not to eat the food he gave you in front of him.
"This time is an exception. Put your books away before they come into contact with food." he said.
"But—" you objected before finally Alhaitham gave you a look as if to say there were no exceptions.
"Fine. But that doesn't mean I wanted food from you…" you said as you opened the food wrapper. You immediately change your mind when it contains the strawberry cake you wanted 2 weeks ago. How could he know? Those of you who didn't think much immediately grabbed it and ate the strawberry on top. "Thanks." You said. "Ugh…the sourness…" You furrowed your eyebrows as you bit the tip of the strawberry.
This is the first time he has heard you express your gratitude to him since you became rivals with him. Even if it doesn't sound wholehearted.
"Hey."
You turned your face towards him and Alhaitham immediately took the opportunity to hold your cheek and bite the remaining strawberry from your lips. You wanted to protest but he insisted that they not make a scene in the library by covering your lips with his. The sour liquid felt very sour on his lips, even though his kiss tasted sour, he didn't mind if it was from your lips.
Alhaitham took the opportunity when your lips opened slightly for him. Playing with his tongue with yours. The sound of slurping the sour yet sweet liquid was heard even though he tried his best to avoid making a sound.
"Alhaitham you bastard- what are you—"
"Shhh… be quiet… you don't want us to find out and get involved in this problem, right?" He spoke in your ear in a hoarse, whispering voice.
"Not here then." You protest.
Alhaitham doesn't care about your protests, a strange feeling of urgency dominates him more than his rationality. Oh, he should blame you for this. So his hands, which hope to be automatic and not in line with his thoughts, choose to tease you and press you on the chair where you are sitting.
Then..
If you want to continue reading, you must be confident in your mind and not feel disgusted for your comfort.
If you like this content, don't forget to like, comment, subscribe— eh. '-';
He pressed your thighs and masaged the back of your calves while continuing to tease your lips while you were leaning against the back of the chair. You gasped because it was too late to respond to what he was doing to your body.
"Perfect." he thought. As if this was what he hoped would happen.
Everything went too fast when he finally decided to give in to his feelings and act on his instincts now, he kept teasing your inner thighs until you felt aroused. You can only feel shame and embarrassment by surrendering and letting yourself be under his control and can only feel embarrassed because your instincts say you want him to tease you more. On the other hand, you can only hope that you don't get caught in a state like this in the library of the House of Daena in a state like this.
"Alhaitham, what are you—" you gasped in a slightly high pitched tone before finally he was forced to cover your mouth with his lips while forcing you to let himself touch you in other parts that had been teasing him.
He groans in pleasure when he starts to feel his fingers feel your wet spot inside your skirt while his fingertips press against your sensitive spot. "Damn, you're wet for me just because of this…" he whispered scornfully. "Don't make so much noise, girl. Be good for me." He muttered between kisses.
Your ears reddened at his inappropriate words. "Alhaitham- stop." You pounced on his thigh with mixed feelings of shame, arousal and annoyance. "Shut up…" He grumbled again before finally his fingers slipped into your wet vestibule. You let out a moaning sound into his mouth, your face flushed and sweaty when he milked one of his fingers against your vestibule.
Your eyes feel misty while the man looks at you from above while continuing to move his finger back and forth as if there is no tomorrow for this hot session before finally he moves his lips away from you. His eyes look at your moist lips, stained with saliva. He licked your lips before finally whispering. "Let's continue round two in a private place, shall we?"
With remains of your consciousness looks at your rival with annoyance. You feel weak in front of him and that makes you not want to look at him anymore. Alhaitham looked at you with a proud and cunning look etched on his lips. You were easily tricked with a piece of cake, which ended up making you fall into his hands.
He then licked his lips and tasted the remaining strawberry juice. "I take that as a yes."
Oh, you fell into his trap.
»»-----------fin-----------««
✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
*I won't deny that I put a lot of effort into this uhuk— this emo scholar. Don't ask me why there are so many photos of him if you catch my Pinterest homepage.💧😶
GWS my brain is squeezing everything for my beginner smut scene in this one story. Like, the smut scenes are all spilled out in this story and I'm out of ideas now.
Have a nice day. That's all. Sekian, terima gaji. 🙃🤙
Ok now hear me out…
Legally blonde AU????? Debating on having Cyno be Warner and making Tighnari better him.
Please I’ve been listening to the musical for 3 days.
100 notes and I write it.
Fandom wiki said "he wears black top" and that was the only one black top I could think about
Kaveh's honest reaction:
I'm sorry for the paint sketches, I don't have neither time nor energy for normal drawings 😔
My head is full of only two things these days: fear of deadlines and kavehtham
I'm really not okay for them
𝘖𝘩, 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘬𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴
Are you even listening, Alhaitham?
my boys clossser
Yes, this is a reupload because tmblr shadowbanned me(
Why do you need all those dating ideas for Saint Valentine's day if you can just sleep all day (together)?
💐𝘏𝘮, 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘦? 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘢 𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘣𝘺. 𝘖𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘦. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬?💐
Silly eepy kitty 🥱
Overworked little kitty 😔
Two lovely kitties! 😊
And one full page