Them: Why Do You Listen To Music In A Language You Don’t Even Speak?

dear, ♡

— cyno art

from helpless stares to sleepless nights, the ever-serious cyno finds himself dealing with the toughest problem of all: his feelings for you.

oh archon, just how did this happen?

CYNO X GN!READER ♡ MODERN AU, CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS!

chapter one — ruins

interlude, what you've done to me.

chapter two —

interlude, we're friends.

chapter three —

interlude, but i like your smile.

chapter four —

interlude, my youth.

chapter five —

interlude, my life.

taglist:

. . .

lights, camera, action!

premise. in which you get yourself involved in a lot of unscripted drama. (genshin celebrity au.)

includes. xiao, childe, albedo, ayato, scaramouche, thoma & kazuha.

next episode. unavailable.

note. i surprised myself with how much plot this actually has.

零 ; you, the typecasted “passerby a”

the path to stardom is an arduous journey, but you've already abandoned your dreams not even halfway down the road.

you are far from the fresh newbie you once were. maybe you hoped to be famous at some point, your name sung in ardent praises and joint with stellar performances, but you've never received major roles that strayed from “classmate b” or “the protagonist's best friend” who only ever appears to give advice.

the closest you've been to getting a main character role is being part of the second pairing of a cheesy romance drama that never became a hit, a series with a generic plot and a bland cast of no name actors.

but you can't deny the spark of hope lighting your heart when you receive word of an audition for an upcoming drama adaptation of a well-loved webtoon series, a series you are an avid fan of. it's a murder mystery following a genius detective striving to solve a serial killings cold case, with snippets of romance and the occasional comedy, grim as the premise may be.

once the drama adaptation was confirmed, it quickly became a hot topic; fans are anticipating the casting and filming crew, expecting nothing less of perfection to honor the brilliant source material. by all accounts, it's big news, and snagging even a minor role would definitely earn you more recognition.

if you're chosen to act as the victim in the first murder, you would already be beyond satisfied—being part of such a masterpiece is enough to make you overjoyed. you don't have too high hopes but there's no harm in trying for the audition, right?

yes. no harm at all.

that's if you don't count the brain damage you suffered when your head slammed against the wall from complete shock as you received an e-mail from the staff confirming your admittance to the project.

as the protagonist's love interest, no less—a journalist investigating the serial murders to enact revenge on their younger brother's stead, the third victim in the killings.

一 ; xiao, the celebrity crush

acting practice is generally considered a casual affair in every project you've taken on, yet you couldn't help but spend hours trying to make yourself look presentable (and avoid looking like a beggar compared to your shining idols when you stand side by side). you may be a tad bit overdressed, but you'd hate to make a fool out of yourself on day one.

except that is exactly what you do. because you're a walking disaster.

in your defense, it's not even your fault! the moment you step foot in the venue, you're ushered by the staff to a row of waiting rooms... without any nameplates attached by the doors and no indication of where you're supposed to go. left with no other choice, you mentally count eeny meeny miny moe and surge forward for the chosen room.

you can't tell if you're tremendously lucky or the most unfortunate person on earth, but you come face to face with a person you never thought you'd see in the flesh.

the thing is, the staff never informed you of your future colleagues. the casting is a well-kept secret, even from the actors themselves, to prevent information leaks to the media before the official announcement.

you really wish you had time to prepare yourself before you had to meet xiao, though.

he's lounging by the sofa, curls of dark hair sprawled on the cushions. his face is obscured by an eye mask, fashioned in a cute design you wouldn't expect him to take an interest in at all. if you took a picture of him right now and printed them as merchandise, you're sure they'll sell like hotcakes, but a selfish part of you wants to keep this sight to yourself.

yes, because... because you've been crushing on him since forever!

you've seen his growth as an actor as far back as five years ago, when he only just started his career! he made the perfect mysterious pretty boy male lead, and the romance film he starred in was such a good classic! but he didn't get typecasted, no no. he went beyond his pretty boy persona to work in other productions, where he acted as the crazed antagonist in a horror movie. that, too, eventually became a classic film for any horror movie fan. his murderous glare is just too damn scary!

he's excellent in action-packed movies as well, there's never a need for stunt doubles with him. you've seen his behind the scene clips, and they're just awesome. he doesn't speak much in interviews, his replies clipped and hardly substantial, but you try to catch each piece of precious footage.

oh fuck i shouldn't be here. you snap back to your senses and reach for the doorknob, but the creaking sound of the door prompts xiao to twitch.

a pale hand drags down the eye mask to his chin, and his dazed golden eyes pin you in place.

“...who are you?”

it's a simple question, but it's like you're trying to prove your innocence to court. you begin to ramble, introducing yourself in a series of stutters, and explaining how you got to his room. you insist you aren't there to peep on him and it was a complete accident.

“...so you entered my room by mistake,” xiao summarizes your ten paragraphs-worth of explanation into a single concise sentence. he doesn't look angry, but doesn't look pleased by your presence either. “it's fine. i could guess the staff was too busy to show you your room.” he sits up properly, fixing his hair messy from his nap. “you're the journalist, right? i look forward to working with you.”

rather than a job, filming feels more like a reward. you get to see xiao everyday, get to talk to xiao even if it's just you commenting on the weather, get to eat with him in lunch breaks (you're seven seats away from him but that counts, right?) and get to act alongside him-

and xiao is the second male lead. you get to act romantic scenes with him. you get to act lovey-dovey with xiao in a police uniform because he's a policeman in this show.

each brush of your hands together sends your heart racing in a speed too fast to be healthy, but as an actor, you're expected to keep your composure and deliver your lines properly.

(the makeup artist is always wondering why you look so red on screen when she swears she didn't put much blush on you, though.)

“don't you need to ask something of me?”

you blink innocently as you peel off the heavy costume, the last scene for the day finally wrapped up. xiao must be feeling hot too because he's also wearing a huge coat in the middle of summer—his face is beet red.

“ask you for something...?” your cheeks burn bright. “oh no, was i too obvious?”

xiao awkwardly looks away. “you could say that.”

how mortifying! you fan your face, hoping your makeup isn't too melted. you already feel like an idiot, no need to look like one.

but xiao already thinks you're stupid. no turning back now.

“o... okay... since the cat is out of the bag, then...” you pull out a pen and a piece of paper, holding it out to him. “please give me your autograph!”

“...what.”

“i've been your fan for the last five years! i don't know who ratted me out, actually i'm about 87% sure it's childe, but since you know-”

“wait- what? five years?”

“.........if that's not what you're talking about, then what is?”

“no, i thought you wanted me to ask me ou-”

he seals his lips at the most crucial moment, horrified at himself. “sorry. i'll ask you another time.”

... and then he walks away. just like that.

“xiao, what about my autograph?!”

“forget it!”

“why all of a sudden?!”

二 ; childe, the scandal magnet

notorious for the massive number of scandals under his belt, it's a surprise to find ajax (with a stage name of childe) in the set of this major production. you're advised by your manager to steer clear of him and avoid unnecessary contact to prevent sullying your reputation, but you can't deny his acting prowess—he shines on the stage, a performance you can't tear your eyes away from.

he's incredibly versatile, capable of taking on any role and absorbing the character to make it come to life, almost as if he is its incarnation.

it starts as a simple game before actual practice, each actor asked to draw lots from pieces of paper scribbled with different roles, and given an accompanying script to base off of.

everyone laughs when childe, ironically enough, draws the “womanizer who cheats on his lover.”

unfortunately, you couldn't laugh along with them because you picked the “lover” role. your incredible (read: atrocious) luck astounds you.

it goes just about as well as everyone expects it. childe, seemingly in his element, plays the part of a perfect scumbag. it's easy to hate him like this, all flamboyant gestures and empty promises of “you are my one and only.” his performance inspires you to try harder, and so you raise your voice, your passionate screams of indignance almost sounding heart-felt, like you truly are experiencing a severe betrayal.

when childe sweeps you into his arms, whispering platitudes dripping with honey, you're nearly fooled into forgiving him.

it's hard to get yourself out of the role when the director ends the scene, satisfied with the act. childe's expression returns to its usual lazy grin, a far cry from the smug smirk prior, and he pats your head to wake you up. “nice work. i really felt like i was getting scolded by an angry girlfriend.”

dazzled by his brilliance, you barely have enough coherence to return the compliment.

your awe doubles when he performs his next act.

much to xiao's horror, he picks the “dying younger brother” role, a direct accompaniment to childe's “grieving older brother.” they make an... interesting pair, but they're also professionals, and the scene they perform almost makes you weep real tears.

xiao lays limp on the floor like a lifeless doll, and childe cradles him to his chest, delivering his lines with sobs and cries that sound too real to be an act. his heart-wrenching wails bounce from the walls, going straight to strike your heart. his voice cuts through the air, demanding your attention, as if telling you to keep your eyes on him and to never look away.

it's nothing like the sleazebag character he was playing twenty minutes ago, and you have to remind yourself your scripts are only given once you've drawn lots; he had a maximum of five minutes to read through it, process the information, decide how to deliver his lines, and visualize himself performing it in the best way possible.

like this, he doesn't look at all like the scandalous man everyone makes him out to be. he's just an earnest man who's good at pretending to be someone else.

it's terrifying to think about. did he ever act like his true self when the cameras stopped rolling, then? was he just playing the part of a “good co-worker” when he was talking to you earlier? was the whole “scandalous womanizer” image something he set up for himself? a reputation he deliberately made to attract the media's attention? it isn't unusual for actors to cause drama as a publicity stunt, after all.

no, that doesn't make sense. no matter how desperate, nobody would like bad rumors circulating about them. as much as your name is spread around, it also goes hand in hand with distasteful gossip. childe is plenty famous, even before the scandals began popping up, so he never really needed them and they would only further ruin his image...

...on the contrary, if there's anyone getting famous from those scandals, it's...

...the girls he supposedly hooked up with?

rather than making those scandals for fame, doesn't it make more sense if those girls fabricated stories and took advantage of his reputation?

it's no secret that meddlesome paparazzi and hardcore fans obsessively pry into celebrities' personal lives. if they sniff a hint of dating scandals, they don't stop digging. furthermore, once the media releases information to the public, people will take it as fact. in actuality, it doesn't matter what's true or not; what the public wants to believe becomes the “truth.”

if the people deemed it plausible, if they thought “childe would definitely do something like this, so of course if the girl says they hooked up in the dressing room, they did”...

...even if childe denied those claims, nobody would believe him. not even you. you didn't think about it until now. in fact, at the very beginning, you already had assumptions about him, devouring the media's lies.

childe laughs when you apologize to him. it was certainly a shock when you suddenly knocked on his door, then the instance he opened it, you began to bow deeply, nearly slamming your forehead to his chest.

“i'm used to it, don't worry.” he smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. “you were so stiff around me, it was pretty obvious what you thought of me. but you didn't have to apologize.”

“no, i do! i was being disrespectful!” you insist, taking him by surprise when you grab the lapels of his jacket. “you're nothing like what they say! i'm sure you've been through a lot just because everyone keeps saying whatever they want, without thinking of your feelings... and everyone laughed that one time we played the acting game... i... i can't take back the time i've spent being suspicious of you, but i want to change that!” you stare directly at his widened eyes, determined. “i want to know you better, ajax!”

the use of his real name stuns him and for a moment, all he can do is gape at you.

then he narrows his eyes, his lips shaping to a firm line, and he tugs you inside the room.

a yelp unwittingly escapes your mouth when you're pressed against the door, his arms caging either side of you. his expression is unfamiliar now, unlike anything you've ever seen before; uncharacteristically stern, harsher around the edges, spiteful gaze boring holes into your skull.

“you want to know me better... some pretty words you just said. what do you actually want?”

your breath hitches when his hand caresses your cheek, but the striking glare he's giving you makes you think he wants to sink his nails deep into your skin instead.

“this isn't the first time someone tried to approach me, you know. what, you want to be friends with me? you're going to ask if i can invite you to my house? then you're going to tell people how i took advantage of you while you were sleeping?”

“what- no! of course not!” you yell, face heating up just by the thought of it. “nevermind lying to the media, i don't have the guts to sleep over a guy's house i barely even know!”

his expression falls to a deadpan. “oh. my bad. you're quite pure, aren't you. of course you wouldn't.”

“that's what makes you believe me?!”

the arms caging you falls to his sides as he walks away, leaving you dumfounded. “right, right, sorry for scaring you. can't you let me off easy? it's pretty hard to trust someone when you're in my position. if i treat you to dinner, will you forgive me?”

“i... i came here with good intentions... now i feel as though i was harassed...”

his usual smile falls on his face, like he's a completely different person from the man who trapped you just seconds prior. “what do you think about seafood? i'll let you eat as many crabs as you like. i really am sorry, promise. if you were saying the truth earlier, then i'd be glad to know you better too, [name].”

you give him a look. “...if they saw us entering a restaurant together, wouldn't that attract rumors?”

“hm? is everyone so narrow-minded they think anyone who eats together is in an illicit relationship?”

the answer is no, so you eat as much crabs and shrimp as you want to your heart's content. you're getting your food's worth for that fright he caused earlier. childe isn't complaining anyway, only impressed with how much dishes you're practically inhaling.

in any case, it isn't a date. there is no ambience or heart-pounding romance of any sort. not when you're overtly taking advantage of his money and childe's taking ugly pictures of you mid-bite.

but then, of course, the media takes note of it; the topic of your outing is brought up at an interview, to which you fret and panic because you were never popular enough to be interviewed before, and they're asking if you're fucking childe, of all things-

“what are you talking about?” childe pops up behind you, unhelpfully wrapping an arm around your shoulders as if he wants to add fuel to the fire. he chuckles, tilting your chin to lean closer to his face. “i'm just pursuing [name]. nothing's happened yet. unless [name] wants to...”

you take it back. he's definitely at fault for having this many scandals.

三 ; albedo, the male lead

the first day of rehearsals, the protagonist of the drama isn't even there.

to your astonishment, nobody complains about it. twenty minutes into practice (most scenes skipped due to the protagonist's absence), the director gets a call and excuses himself outside. less than a minute after, he informs everyone the star of the show won't be able to make it.

the actors trade unsure looks, wondering what the hell is going on, but the rest of the staff remain unfazed. the director notices and explains, “it's albedo. his busy schedule can't be helped. his manager called me to let me know his flight got delayed.”

and then it makes much more sense.

albedo is well-renowned in the film industry, an extraordinary talent who first came into showbiz three years ago. it's not at all a long time, but it's long enough for him to receive countless awards and bountiful movie offers—he was just born for the stage. if anything, this drama is lucky to have him in it, not the other way around. a late arrival for a rehearsal is nothing. he could probably disappear for two months without telling anybody and when he comes back, the director would beg him to act for the drama for twice the pay. (an exaggeration, but you get the point.)

and... you're expected to partner with him? you? a speck of dust compared to the sun that is albedo? you have to match his brilliance and not look like a turd beside him on screen? you have to be equals with him and- and you actually get to- you get to hold hands with him, kiss him, and- those couple stuff? everything? his fans would murder you if your mother doesn't kill you first! you know she likes his movies a lot!

the fourth day of rehearsals, he finally comes to the set. not with an air of arrogance or excessive pride. he just exudes confidence, strutting to the room in an elegant poise you can't hope to replicate. he gives his sincere apologies for the inconvenience to the staff, all polite bows and offer of recompense.

“but there's no reason to worry,” he declares, gaze steely. “i won't make any more trouble for you.”

he refuses when the director suggests taking it slowly and instead goes straight to practice. but it doesn't look like he needs any of it at all.

as if he's been here all along, he falls into place with the other actors, not a single awkward pause in their scripted conversations and everything smooth sailing. he delivers a flawless performance, like the cameras are already rolling and he's practiced for tens of thousands of times already, not read through a portion of the script in the car ride towards the set.

there is one thing he's struggling with, however.

“you're too stiff with each other,” the acting coach comments, frowning slightly at the two of you and cutting the scene short. “rather than bickering, it's like you're actually arguing, and that's not what we want to portray.”

you blink, exchanging a look with albedo, and look down at his collar you're still gripping.

maybe you do look like you're trying to strangle him instead of pulling him closer to your face for some good ol' sexual tension.

originally, the characters you play didn't get along well in the beginning of the webtoon; the genius detective didn't like to rely on others, conceited enough to believe he can solve the case on his own, hence seeing the journalist as a hindrance since they kept pestering him to let them help him, and he help them in turn so they could work together. the detective didn't deem them “useful” for the investigation, and it was only much later that he (begrudgingly) admitted the journalist can be helpful... sometimes. thus officially starting their partnership for the investigation, and later on, partners in the romantic sense.

there were quite a lot of bickering scenes before the actual romance commenced, and you're struggling with finding a delicate balance to that—where exactly do you draw the line between petty squabbles and severe disputes? how do you show the chemistry between these two characters while butting heads in every instance? the enemies to lovers trope is harder to act than it seems.

“try to get familiar,” the director suggests. “you're stiff because you don't know each other well. you're too shy to touch or get closer. why not leave early and go on a little date by yourselves to fix that?”

“is that really okay...?” you say, unsure. besides being hesitant to leave earlier than the rest, you're also nervous to be alone with your co-actor.

“if he says it's fine, then it's fine.” albedo shrugs, starting to walk towards the dressing room and tugging you along. “but if we're going outside, we should wear disguises. it's also fine if we borrow some of your clothes, right?”

“of course, of course~” the director indulges him. “have fun, kiddos.”

as it turns out, albedo is a master of disguise. he doesn't even have a wig or anything but you almost can't recognize him clad in casual attire. he also almost looks like a stylist while figuring out what outfit to give you, and you're left in awe when you look at yourself in the mirror wearing clothes you wouldn't normally pick out yourself but they look really, really good on you, and they do a good job changing your image too. not that you think anybody would recognize you anyway, unpopular and all.

“where do you want to go?” you trail after him on the way to the bus station, always a step or two behind. albedo makes a humming noise, subtly slowing his pace to match your strides.

“why not just go wherever our feet takes us?” he pipes up. “as long as it's not teeming with people, of course.”

so with zero preparation at all, you do just that. you stop by a bookstore, with you showing him around the comics section and him adamantly insisting the plain hard-cover literature he's picking up is a thrilling epic that will definitely pique your interest, [name] stop yawning-

you pay a visit to the arcade, where you find albedo is clumsy with his feet and can't play dance dance revolution to save his life, but also unnecessarily adept with claw machines because he has a little sister who loves getting stuffed toys. you compete over who gets the most points in the basketball game to decide who pays for dinner, end up in a tie, and move on to a zombie shooting game. you win by a narrow margin and albedo tells you so, but you point a finger at the results and tell him to cough up the cash. then you play around in the photo booth using the craziest filters, and you take the liberty of pasting stickers everywhere.

dinner is a simple affair. albedo looks ready to go to some michelin star establishment but you introduce him to a sushi restaurant that's relatively cheap. he's impressed by the way you swipe at the conveyor belt so quickly. okay, so you may look like an utter glutton right now, but it's fine. not the first time you embarrassed yourself in front of a co-actor.

lastly, you stop by an ice cream shop to get gelato. your appetite is “awe-inspiring,” as albedo put it, but you argue there's always room for dessert.

“will this actually help us, though...?” you sigh, eating a spoonful of gelato. “i don't understand the difference between bickering and arguing.”

“we've done it the whole day,” albedo reminds you, using a tissue to clean the residue of cream on your cheek. “we'll do just fine.”

you stare at him in disbelief. “...is this also one of your habits from taking care of your sister?”

“ah. you could say that.”

just as albedo said, filming goes a lot more smoothly. the playful air is a huge improvement compared to last time when they said you looked ready to beat him to submission. the romantic tidbits are coming along well, too, spun between action-packed scenes where you're pressed against albedo in a slim locker to hide from the murderer lurking nearby or sweet slice of life moments outside of the investigation.

at last, the confession scene is upon you. just a while back, the two main characters got into a full-blown argument; the detective was irritated by the lack of progress in the investigation, and deduced his feelings were distracting him. he decided to keep the journalist at arm's length, never allowing them to go close. of course, they didn't react well to this, and so they pester him again, but the argument became heated and it eventually peaked to “you're an inconvenience to me!” which led them to separate ways.

the journalist, desperate to solve the case on their own, approached people who seemed to be in the know. they were nearly pulled into bed by an attractive yet suspicious man, who's genuinely interested in the journalist romantically and used intel on their younger brother's murder as leverage, but they get interrupted by the detective pounding on the door.

he dragged the journalist out, thoroughly upset at the notion of selling themself, but they deny the accusations and claim they were tricked.

the argument stretched longer, the both of them airing out everything they dislike about the other, but the detective accidentally slipped and confessed his real feelings. the journalist, who never thought of him that way, was frozen on the spot.

it's a long scene requiring much preparation. aside from the amount of lines you have to memorize, there's also a hotel suite you have to borrow for the shoot, the cameras they need to set for the “dragging” scene that has a lot of movement, the really awkward half-bedroom scene you have to act with your co-actor, and the fact that you have to take the confession scene before the sun completely set.

it's truly a busy day. anxiety plagued you the moment you came out of the makeup room, knowing what comes next.

but it's a job, and one especially you couldn't afford to slack on. the kind-of-but-not-really-bedroom scene goes without a hitch, but albedo interrupts you a tad bit too early; the top of your shirt is barely unbuttoned but he's already storming in, ripping you out of the other man's grasp.

the director doesn't chide him for it however, and he drags you out of the hotel as planned. you're a bit frazzled by the suddenness of it all, clothes still rumpled, but it adds on to your acting and your stuttering questions make the scene look more natural.

albedo's fury seeing you in such a disheveled state seems almost genuine, too.

“why are you acting like this?!” you pull your wrist away in an effort to make him let go, as described in the script, but albedo refuses to. an improvisation, perhaps? but now of all times...? “you didn't care about me before! are you trying to be nice now? didn't you say you were sick of putting up with me? you hated me for being stupid, right? guess what, then! i was stupid enough to get almost taken advantage of! if you're just going to lecture me, let go. i don't want to hear any of it. i already know how much of a fool i am.”

you're supposed to back away now, but he doesn't let you do that either. for one step backward, he takes two forward, nose nearly brushing with yours in the close proximity. your face heats up in a combination of confusion and embarrassment, your ears barely registering his lines.

“...never listen to me. you always go off on your own and i still think you're a reckless idiot. you're noisy and brash and you annoy me to no end,” he says in one breath, staring deeply into your eyes. “but seeing you with someone else annoys me even more. to the point i'd abandon everything just to get you back.”

“w...” your throat is incredibly dry. “why would you...”

“whether i like it or not, you've become important to me. i love your stupid laugh and your stupid smile. i love the way you look at me, and i don't want you to look at anyone else. you drive me crazy when you put yourself in danger because i don't want to lose you. i want you so badly that i want you to only think about me, spend time only with me, only love me. i-”

you're fairly certain this is nowhere near his lines in the script.

“i love you so much that it scares me.” his voice trembles as his hand lifts to cup your face, something that finally bears semblance to the original scene. “it was wrong of me to say those horrible things. not just last time. i've been terrible to you, and no amount of apologies can make up for it. but i ask only one more chance.”

his finger hovers at the corner of your lip.

“[name], won't you only look at me?”

you gape like a fish out of water, unable to reply. you're trying to remember your lines, flipping through the mental script in your head, but the director's “cut!” pulls you back to reality.

albedo blinks, getting himself out of the role, and he lets go of you reluctantly, the heat of his fingers lingering on your skin.

“the scene was good, but you said the wrong name.” the director laughs. “it's alright. we can still shoot where we last left off. return to your positions.”

as told, you go back to your previous position. you give a furtive glance at albedo, whose cheeks flare in humiliation. he's probably never done such a rookie mistake before. there's no reason to be that flustered about it; you've made the same error plenty of times.

“i apologize. i won't do it again next time.”

(if he's going to confess, the least he can do is make his own lines for the occasion.)

next episode ; unavailable. preview →

四 ; ayato, the cannon fodder

五 ; scaramouche, the best friend

六 ; thoma, the former male lead

七 ; kazuha, ???

hi lia!!! i love your writing sm especially REDAMANCY IN YOUR GAZE. !!! so nicely written and hits me right in the feels ;w;

anywhoo i'm here to submit a request! hope this sparks your inspiration but if not feel free to delete it, ok? no pressure <3

i'm curious to see you writing angst, so can we perhaps have zhongli, xiao, kazuha, and itto with the situation/prompt: 'seeing their s/o reader dying'? bonus brownie points if reader died in their arms c: yeah i woke up and chose violence today ahah it can be in whatever format you feel most comfortable with!

ps. just reject this if you feel uncomfortable with the concept!! i didn't see a rule against this so i thought i'd drop by and ask. thank you and have a nice day <3 <3 <3

- 💠

★彡 KISS ME WITH YOUR EYES CLOSED.

SUMMARY. you have left with a piece of their heart and you're never coming back. or in which you spend your last moments in your lover's arms, but you are already beyond saving.

CHARACTERS. xiao, kazuha, zhongli, itto.

GENRE. angst, established relationship, hurt with no comfort.

CW. character death (no specified cause), mentions of blood (no specified injuries), unintended anger outburst + shinobu cameo in itto's part.

THOUGHTS. thank you for liking my writing and sending in this painful request <3 i'm unsure how well i executed this and i'm looking for room to improve — but for now, enjoy this angst that me and 💠 anonnie offered! >:)

✰ masterlist.

XIAO's words fail him, a failure stuck at the back of his throat from the deepest parts of his beating heart. Such a contrast to your heart that no longer thumps at the same tempo as his.

He is supposed to be used to this — no, he should have grown used to this already.

The putrid stench of death, the pools of scarlet red on the ground and his clothes, the void in his chest that he can't explain every single time.

For eons and eons, Xiao has seen lives perish before his eyes; his comrades, innocent lives, monsters, all of them. That is what he is meant to do; an Adeptus lives to bear pain, to shoulder it with resilience.

So, then, what is this feeling? Ache like never before, a longing for a different outcome, a sense of denial he is unfamiliar with.

Xiao stares blankly at your peaceful face, eyes closed and undisturbed. As if you are only lulled by the soft tune of slumber and merely sleeping in his arms — but that is no more than wishful thinking, he knows this.

Yet, still, he dares to hope.

How ironic, the Yaksha has never gotten along well with the concept of hope. But here he is, gathering the littlest courage to hope that you'd snap open your eyes and laugh at his forlorn expression like you always would.

But you don't, and Xiao realizes he is nothing but a hypocrite.

The same pain he is supposed to shoulder oh-so fearlessly is here, gnawing at his heart and consuming it alive — for once, Alatus doesn't think he can bear it any longer.

He is alone all over again.

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

Death, an old friend of KAZUHA's that he never wishes to confront ever again. But that statement only reeks of blissful ignorance, doesn't it?

Death casts its gaze on whom it wishes and it takes and it takes, that is the natural course of life — yet, it has become far too familiar of an acquaintance in his life that Kazuha can't help but despise it.

In the back of his mind, Kazuha sees a vision he thought he has long bid his goodbyes to already. The booming flash of thunder, a sword pierced through the floorboard of the Tenshukaku, a fallen friend and a reminder that he was far too late.

This moment is all too familiar.

The darkening clouds above his head, his hands that cradle you close, and your scent that is growing fainter and fainter by the second. Kazuha rests his face into the crook of your neck, muffling his cries against your skin; but you are as cold as ice and snow, so unbelievably cold.

Has the curse of fate come to take from him again? Kazuha's heart is only one, but death seems to favor him so much that it keeps taking pieces of his soul little by little.

Once, a lingering pain he learnt to move on from. Twice, he lets it be this time. Thrice, he begins questioning, just what more does it want from him? His family, his friend, now his one and only lover; Kazuha isn't sure what is left of him now. So, so many have been taken away from him.

"[Y/N]," Kazuha feels ashamed of the way his voice breaks as he whispers your name. He can't even speak properly, but how can he when you lay so feebly in his arms? One movement and it feels as if you'll crumble to dust, unreachable and away from his grasp.

He still has so many haiku's to read to you, songs he wants you to listen to, places he wants to see with your hand in his. So many of them, yet those dreams are nothing but regrets now.

Death will never leave him alone, will it? Even if tears stain his cheeks, even if he pleads with his life, even if he wishes to trade his life for yours, Kazuha is powerless.

"I love you," the man presses his lips to your forehead, he spares no mind to the tears falling down his cheeks like a stream of water he'd drink a fistful from during his travels.

One last time, just one more. But his words fall on deaf ears, for you are already gone and you're not coming back.

Yet again, death has torn away another piece of Kaedehara Kazuha's heart.

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

ZHONGLI drowns himself in complacent silence. He says nothing, he has nothing to say. The rueful sigh that escapes his lips is the only indication of the lid placed over the gaping sorrow in his chest.

The former Archon of Geo does not shed tears. If he cries, then would it have changed this outcome? No, it wouldn't. If he cries, then would it have lifted this pain in his chest for a brief moment? Perhaps, it would.

But if Zhongli allows tears to cloud his eyes, then hethese last few moments with you. Fate cannot be changed nor can it be severed, all he can do is embrace it wholeheartedly.

"Even if it hurts?" A ghost-like whisper hovers faintly above his ears, trying to shake his resolve. Zhongli affirms himself, "Even if it hurts." He doesn't acknowledge the littlest speck of desire to falter and say otherwise in the corner of his mind.

Even if it hurts.

After all this time, you are still as beautiful as the first day he laid eyes on you, Zhongli smiles as he closes your eyes with the palm of his hand.

Those gem-like [E/C] irises of yours that always stare back at his with such affection, your voice that greets his ears like a gentle melody, the raindrops of love you shower him in so generously.

He can't help but reminisce.

After all, reminiscence is one of, if not the most, loyal friend of his, unbound by erosion of time as long as there is someone who lives to tell the tale. Zhongli knows the story of you shall live, for he will be the one to tell it.

"Rest well, my love."

He will not forget you.

The former Archon of Geo does not shed tears. Yet, that day, the corners of his amber eyes begin to dampen just a little.

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

ITTO swears he sees his life flashes before his eyes. He is frantic, flighty even as if waiting for someone to get this over with and pinch him awake. This feels like a nightmare, it's just a bad dream, right?

But the warm pool of blood pouring onto his clothes is real, too real to just be a part of his imagination.

No, no, no, this can't be happening.

"Shinobu—" Itto calls out to his deputy leader hurriedly, agitation all too present in his voice. But the anxiety in his stomach churns even worse when he sees the mortified look in Shinobu's eyes; he doesn't like what it alludes to, not one bit.

He pleads almost desperately, "They'll be okay, right? Right?!" Shinobu has never lied to him, she always tells him the truth and so, he waits for an answer.

Reassurance, some hope that everything will be alright, just anything — but he receives no more than silence. And it angers him, Itto can feel the frustration rushing through his veins to his heart and to his head.

His grip on your frail body tightens and a pained holler tears itself from his throat, "Say something, dammit!" But he doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean to yell so harshly at her. He isn't usually like this, what is going on?

When in reality, the answer to his question is right there in his arms; your frail figure lying in his embrace is just a fact waiting to be acknowledged, but he doesn't want to accept it.

Do you expect him to just accept it like that so easily? You know he can't do that, he just can't.

"There is still hope, there is still hope," Itto chants to himself, but even a fool would know those words are nothing more than empty reassurance.

The so-called strongest Oni in Inazuma is so out of it Shinobu can't even gather the courage to point out the truth.

What will become of her boss if she tells him that you are no longer breathing?

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

© seelestia, july 2022. do not repost, plagiarize, translate nor claim as your own.

© ㅂㅇㅂㄱㅅ | do not edit. (1, 2, 3, 4)

words to use instead of

as 

while 

when,

whilst

 even as

 just as

 just when

 simultaneously as

 so long as

 at the moment that

 at the same time that at the time that

 in the act of

 in the process of 

on the point of

during the time that

 at the same time as

 during the time

 throughout the time

 in the time

 during which

 during which time

for the period that

 at the same time

 meanwhile

 at the time

 as long as

 exactly when

 at the very moment that

at the very time that after

 as soon as

 immediately when

 immediately after

instantly when once

looked

glanced 

gazed 

stared

gaped

peered

focused 

 peeped 

peeked

took a look

taken a look 

watched

considered 

saw 

seen

observed 

viewed

regarded

marked 

checked out

glimpsed 

spotted 

eyed 

took in 

taken 

in ogled

eyeballed 

beheld

beholden 

before

ahead

back

previously

since

sooner

afore

aforetime

ante

antecedently

anteriorly

before present

ere

fore

former

formerly

forward

gone

gone by

heretofore

in advance

in days of yore

in front

in old days

in the past

past

precendently

previous

up to now

smiled

beam

grin

laugh

smirk

simper

be gracious

express friendliness

express tenderness

look amused

look delighted

look happy

look pleased

touch

brush

caress

feel

handle

hit

kiss

lick

pat

reach

rub

strike

stroke

tap

abut

adjoin

border

communicate

contact

converge

dab

examine

finger

fondle

frisk

glance

graze

grope

inspect

join

line

manipulate

march

massage

meet

neighbor

osculate

palm

palpate

partake

paw

percuss

pet

probe

push

scrutinize

sip

smooth

suck

sweep

tag

taste

thumb

tickle

tip

toy

verge

be in contact

butt on

come together

feel up

impinge upon

lay a finger on

exhaled

breathe

emit

give off

let out

discharge

eject

emanate

evaporate

expel

issue

respire

steam

vaporize

nodded

acknowledge

bend

bow

greet

respond

salute

acquiesce

agree

approve

assent

passionate

ardent

dramatic

eager

eloquent

emotional

expressive

fervent

fierce

fiery

forceful

heartfelt

heated

impassioned

intense

poignant

spirited

strong

vehement

violent

zealous

affecting

animated

blazing

burning

deep

fervid

flaming

frenzied

glowing

headlong

high-powered

high-pressure

hot

hotblooded

impetuous

impulsive

inspiring

melodramatic

moving

precipitate

quickened

steamed up

stimulated

stirring

thrilling

warm

wild

but

although

however

nevertheless

on the other hand

still

though

yet

gasped

choke

snort

whoop

blow

convulse

gulp

heave

inhale

inspire

pant

puff

respire

sniffle

wheeze

catch one’s breath

fight for breath

frowned

glare

glower

grimace

pout

gloom

lower

sulk

cloud up

do a slow burn

give a dirty look

give the evil eye

knit brows

look black

look daggers

look stern

movement

act

action

change

development

evolution

exercise

flow

migration

move

operation

progress

shift

advance

agitation

alteration

swirled

boil

churn

roil

twirl

whirl

agitate

coil

crimp

crisp

curl

eddy

purl

roll

snake

surge

swoosh

whirlpool

whorl

wriggle

x : POISON :*+ﾟ

in which: kaiser is undeniably in love with you. tonight, he makes it known. you accept.

warnings: 1.4k words, making out, reader is injured, gn!reader, SPY!AU, 16+ content!! sexual tension lol

context: this was originally a snippet of my 5k celebration where i planned a spy!au for kaiser. however, that idea ended up being scrapped so now i just have this makeout scene that i wrote one night and i don't want it to go to waste. there's more to this scene than just the making out, but, reader gets hurt on a mission gone awry and kaiser kinda lost his shit and went feral on the enemy and that's where we are now ! enjoy whatever this is !

“don’t overdo yourself. no intense training for a week. remember to do your breathwork and stretches everyday, five times a day,” the monotone voice of the nurse fills your ears as you try your best to stumble through the hallways to remain in pace with her. “come back in three days for a checkup. recover quickly, agent.”

“thank you,” you grit, dawdling out of the hospital wing with your bed at the forefront of your mind. goodness, you just needed to lie down and think about how you’re going to train back into top shape again.

because despite only being out of commission for five days, your senses are already failing you, unable to detect the looming figure behind you. hands abruptly grab you by your arms, pressing tightly into you as you both stumble into the darkness of your now unlocked room. 

you would fight back, but the assailant’s scent is nothing but familiar, and instead of fear, your heart begins to race in anticipation.

especially as kaiser smoothly spins you around in his grasp, forcing you to continue walking until you hit the edge of your bed, causing you to sit down. the door closes behind the two of you and the only light source were the lamps coming from outside your window, allowing you to see the outline of kaiser’s face.

“what’s your problem?” you ask, irritation brewing from how abrupt his entrance was. “seriously? do you know how reckless that was to just grab me and force me into a dark room? i’m recovering too, what if you pulled one of my stitches? jackass.”

he doesn’t reply. in fact, kaiser is uncharacteristically silent and you wonder if the man in front of you was kaiser at all.

it has to be, no other agent in this facility has blue hair like his, or such a recognisable tattoo, or an addictive aura like his. 

“kaiser?” you say, this time breathy, quiet, and cautious. “is everything okay?”

the sigh that escapes him causes his whole body to shudder and you’re caught off guard when two hands come to hold your face, followed by the press of lips against your forehead. your breath lodges itself in your throat, unused to this kind of intimacy and closeness from kaiser. 

he doesn’t speak but neither do you because you’ve never heard a more sadder, disappointed sigh from anyone… ever, not from noel when you failed an assessment, not when you were unable to shoot the dummy in the heart, not even from yourself when you failed to clear a skill stage for the umpteenth time. so you’re willing to wait for kaiser to come around, for the silence to naturally melt itself away, for his closeness to stop overwhelming you, for your heart to stop racing as fast as it is. 

his hands then move to begin playing with your hair.

“i hate that i can’t protect you,” he finally confesses; a breath of rushed words rather than an actual sentence that is easily decipherable. 

“i don’t need it-”

“-i know; you don’t need help, especially from me, but fuck, i can’t help it.” you bite back the urge to say ‘i know’, suddenly remembering the crazed look in his eyes from that night. the memory sends shivers down your spine. “i can’t help but want to hide you from the world, to be beside you all the time where you’ll be safe- where i’d kill to keep you safe.” 

his words are no louder than a breath. the weight of his words fall upon your shoulders with undeniable force, causing you to sink against him, surrendering to the pressure of his admission.

“kaiser-”

“-i know. i know you don’t need anyone’s protection, i fucking know. because you’re stupid and reckless but so brave and admirable in everything you do that i need to be selfish when it comes to you. if i’m not then you’ll go flying off to somewhere i can’t reach and my love-” 

he pauses, faltering a little as he leans away from you, tilting your head carefully to make you look up at him. “-i can’t let that happen.”

something within you crumbles. with your own ears, you hear your ruination come alive with his words. “kaiser, we can’t be doing this. you know that. we’re bad for each other.”

“why can’t you be selfish with me too?” 

stunned into silence, you can’t look him in the eye, fearful of what would become of you if you did. you’re already overflowing, the walls that you once made unbreakable finally beginning to reveal their first crack. kaiser is maddening; truly maddening.

“why can’t you be careful with me?” you ask, voice cracking against your will. “you say these things but you spin me around like a headless horse. one second you’re at my throat, ready to push me off a cliff then-”

“-my love.” 

“don’t call me that!” you plead. “don’t call me that when you don’t mean it. i’d rather bleed from a stab wound than from love, don’t you know? i can’t keep fighting against you and your cruel games.”

you quiver at the feeling of him kissing the side of your face. the crack widens. 

“you win. you’re the emperor, you’re the mastermind, whatever, i surrender.”

he breathes in, exhaling roughly too as he speaks against your skin: “you’re not understanding me. i’ll be anything you want me to be. tell me to leave and i will. i’ll never speak of this moment again and i’ll never speak of my love for you again, but accept my heart and it’ll be at your mercy.”

as if matching his promise, kaiser sinks to his knees between your legs so that you were now eye-level. his eyes gleam with heart wrenching genuinity, his expression serious like you’ve never seen him before. you’ve witnessed kaiser gone manic, gone crazed, gone rogue even, but you’ve never seen him like this. 

he’s terrifying but deliciously tempting. 

the first step is terrifying, your hands trembling when they go to cradle his jaw. he falters.

the second step is even more horrifying, as you lean closer to him, you try to unlearn the security protocols you’ve needed to put up to protect yourself. 

the third is nothing but liberating because you’re now falling, so utterly helpless as you meet your demise, landing in kaiser’s embrace.

“you’re insane,” you mutter, stopping just briefly before his lips. 

he keens, desire dripping off of him like honey as he wills himself to not close the gap. “so you’ve told me. countless times before, actually.”

“your insanity must be rubbing off on me,” you joke, “be my lover, kaiser. for the night or for eternity, i’ve picked my poison.”

“then i’ll so happily drink it for you.”

with that, you seal your lips against his and his touch shatters you from the inside, walls fully collapsing at his will when his hands go to hold your waist, grabbing your shirt as if anchoring himself into this reality. 

“shit,” he breathes against your lips. “i can’t believe this isn’t a dream.”

“what if i was?”

“then never wake me up, my love,” he grumbles before standing up, never going too far from you as he slowly pushes you down. using your elbow to support you before you could fully give in and kaiser uses his arm to hold his weight as the other goes to your hip. “i’m yours, i’m all yours.”

he sighs heavily. “i can’t believe you’re letting me do this to you.”

this time, his kiss consumes you, intent on committing all of you to memory as his hands roam, too antsy to be able to remain in one place. your hands tangle in his hair, a subtle way of telling him to not go too far; not that he wants to. how could he when he has everything he’s wanted for the past decade in his hands? 

rendered so helpless in your grasp, the only thing kaiser can think about is pleasing you.

pain shoots up your body, causing you to fall back onto your mattress, breaking away from kaiser who gazes at you with shining eyes. 

“you-” you cough. “you have to be nice. i can’t breathe very easily. everything hurts.”

kaiser laughs, the sound reverberating through the darkness. “i can make an exception for you,” he promises, hands caressing against you like glass as he connects your lips with his again, intent on fully becoming yours.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

hello everyone!

i saw a lot of my mutuals reblogging stuff for writing and i thought i'd share my notes back from when i started writing and was obsessed to sound like i have a lot of vocabulary (i dont really care anymore now haha)

hopefully you guys can read my handwriting from years ago. english isnt my native language so i put down several explanations for a few words. i hope this can be useful to everyone who sees this :D

i have several other things in my notes (they're not too much compared to this list) but let me know if you guys want more :) im happy to help and share them.

i cannot promise that every single one is readable as my handwriting really changes over time 😵‍💫😵‍💫

Comfort Prompts

“I’m here, I’m not gonna leave you.”

“Don’t say that you love me more than I love you. Trust me, you are the glorious sun to me, my everything and I love you with all my heart.”

“Repeat after me; I am worthy, I am worthy, I am worthy…and believe it, ‘cause you are.”

“Darling, perfect is just a word. Perfection is impossible and chasing after it will lead you nowhere. Just do your best and accept that the result is good.”

“When the most broken put themselves back together, they become the most beautiful angels. It’s okay if it’s sloppy or if a crack is still left open, you’re even more ethereal to me.”

“The longest and most difficult roads in life end in the best places. Be patient and keep going.”

“So what if the world is complex and overwhelming? So what if you can’t do it all, can’t be the best? Stop focusing on your image and focus on yourself. You have these years on this earth, enjoy them, don’t overthink it. “

“I’m love with your mind, soul and body.”

“The best thing you can do in life is to love yourself and let your passion help others to love themselves too.”

“I know you may feel alone right now but just remember how big the world is. How many souls will love you for who you are. They’re out there, don’t worry. Just get through, explore and you’ll find them. Just don’t forget to find yourself.”

“Can I kiss where it hurts?”

“Hey, it’s going to be fine. We’ll get through this together, hand in hand, okay?”

“It’s all about the little things. Your favorite tea, good stories, sparkly eyes, beautiful skies, the thrill of adventure, passion, the feeling of home. Enjoy them.”

“You’re not broken. Your mind is just built differently, get to know it, have a little chat with yourself. The most complicated minds tend to be the most beautiful ones, just don’t let it use you, learn to cooperate with it.”

“Hey, beautiful, you okay?”

“You’re amazing, did you know that?”

“I think I’m going blind from your beauty.”

“Everyone’s different. Everyone’s beautiful. You’re the most beautiful human I’ve met, and I’ve met myself!”

“Breathe, darling, breathe.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that triggered you, I’ll never do it again.”

“Here, I’m going to make you some tea and we’ll watch a movie, that sound good?”

“ Magic is real. It’s not spells and cauldrons, no… it’s more subtle. Like, when the air seems electrified, when eyes speak more than words, when you sense something none of your normal senses detect. If you stop for a moment and look beyond, you’ll find it.“

“I know you don’t want to, but in the end, it’ll pay off. Just breathe, keep your head up and you’ll be fine.”

After Hours

Synopsis: Alhaitham has multiple, very good reasons for not liking to stay after office hours. You're one of them. Word Count: 4.8k Tags: Female reader x Husband!Alhaitham, Spoilers for the archon quests, Fluff, Domesticity, Slight angst, Pregnancy, Morning sickness (pretty heavy on the morning sickness but nothing graphic, just mentions of puking + inability to keep food down), Pregnancy woes, Established relationship, kind of hidden pregnancy, Alhaitham is 27 in my head and so is the reader A/N: listen. LISTEN. I don't normally write pregnancy but I had this idea and HAD to let it out. There is nothing hotter to me than a smart, dependable man with a stable, cushy job that's utterly in love with you. I'm a gojo writer, but damn. Alhaitham has me feeling some sort of way.

"Given the recent developments, there are many researchers wondering about what will happen to their funding. Acting Grand Sage, do you have any-"

"I'll be taking my leave now."

"H-Huh?"

Alhaitham clears his throat and stands, his chair dragging against the floor. From high-profile staff at the Akademiya, to esteemed researchers searching for an answer, Alhaitham casually shrugs off the bewildered, confused stares they give him.

"It's 5PM," he says nonchalantly. "You can find me at my desk tomorrow morning at 9."

"B-But we're not done with the meeting-"

"Goodbye."

"Wait-"

"My work for the day is done," Alhaitham hums, effectively cutting off whatever it was that was about to be said. Silence befalls the room, tension growing in its stead. "Haven't I already made my stance on this very clear?"

For all that is said and done, at least they knew how to stop talking when he displays his displeasure. Maybe being the Acting Grand Sage wasn't that bad after all. There were very few that would dare challenge his authority.

"But Sir, our meeting just started..."

Maybe not.

"Well, you should have started it earlier." Alhaitham doesn't miss a beat, neatly gathering his documents into a pile for his assigned assistant to take away. There's a tiny smile on his assistant's face, the young, interning scholar finding the entire exchange amusing.

Alhaitham fails to see what could be soooo amusing about working past official office hours.

5:01. Alhaitham clicks his tongue.

"Acting Grand Sage," a scandalised voice begins, but the person he's referring to is in a rush. Alhaitham should be out of the Akademiya by now. He can't risk being late. "It is imperative that you give us the necessary instructions so that Sumeru can still function as per usual..."

He tunes the voice out. It's past 5. He doesn't have to listen.

If they could handle themselves under Azar's so-called leadership, they can handle themselves under no supervision for the next sixteen hours. Sure, years worth of rampant corruption was difficult to erode without work, but it wasn't as if staying past 5 would magically fix everything overnight.

Alhaitham would tell them to go home and leave it for tomorrow... But it's now 5:02 and he's running behind on time. Simply being within the House of Daena was a pleasantry he was not willing to give for even a second longer.

"A-Alhaitham!"

He walks past the old man, past Cyno, and he's out of the door, out of the Akademiya, in mere moments.

The passing scholars greet him, all up to date with the change of hands after the atrocities of the previous Sages had gone public. Various pairs of eyes linger on him. Seemingly overnight, he had become known to the public as one of the core few that had freed Sumeru's Archon and foiled Azar's plan.

A mighty accomplishment in the eyes of the people, indeed.

It doesn't take long to get to the Bazar, where his task at hand was. He's done this tons of times before, but with every passing day, he only seems to get pickier with the produce before him.

Yoghurt, Tomatoes, Ginger, Butter...

"Oh, honey..."

He looks away from a ripe tomato and into the eyes of an older auntie who stood next to him with a fond look on her face.

"You're going to stare a hole into that poor tomato at that rate."

Alhaitham has no idea who she is. Silently, he returns his gaze to the tomato pile and narrows down the select few that had passed his earlier inspection. He'd grab them, pay, and leave.

"Ah ah!" The lady laughs, interrupting his process. "Come, dear. Have these tomatoes instead," she says, offering him her basket of tomatoes. "It's the least I could do for the Grand Sage."

"Acting Grand Sage," he can't help but correct.

"Yes, yes, the Acting Grand Sage. Honestly, what does it matter! Come! Have these. I have a good eye for tomatoes, you know?"

Alhaitham can't help but agree. The tomatoes are perfect. If his departure hadn't been halted, even for those few minutes, he would have gotten to them first. Ripe, juicy, no blemishes whatsoever, fresh... They're good. Declining is the first thought that comes into mind. He has no need to owe anyone any favours. But how can he when he remembers who was waiting for him back home?

"Ahhh, don't be shy!" The auntie shoves them into his own basket, where a few ginger roots sat alongside some cloves of garlic and some extra spices. "You've done so much for Sumeru! This is the least we could do."

She doesn't seem malicious. Or looking for anything in return.

"...Thank you, then."

And that special phrase unleashes hell on earth. The moment the tomatoes make a touchdown in his basket, he gets swamped by the aunties and uncles at the bazar.

"Here! Have some fish!"

"Oh! Oh! Here's some preserved vegetables! Take these, too!"

"Acting Grand Sage! My mama told me to give this to you!" "Me too! Here! Here!"

It's comes and goes as abruptly as a tidal wave. There's not even a chance to reply to anyone, or reject anything. Before Alhaitham knows it, he's decorated with new groceries. Everyone who had gifted him something was long gone, walking away like nothing had happened.

For the first time in a long while, Alhaitham feels awkward standing alone in the Bazar.

"I'll take these..." Alhaitham says, sliding his personal basket to Housein. It's a little difficult to get his mora pouch out while holding so many items, but he manages. It's not like he can just abandon everything at the side of the pavement. There were too many prying eyes.

"Oh, they'll be on the house, Mr Alhaitham!" Housein grins, declining the mora. The produce seller looks pleased with himself. "The Bazar technically owes you for helping to oust Azar! Now the theatre can continue their performances!"

"I insist-"

"Really, it's alright!"

"No, I-"

"Alhaitham! Oh, my sweet boy!" Someone grabs his arm, whisking him away before he could get Housein to accept his mora. Greying hair frames the old lady's face, and Alhaitham recognises her in an instant.

"Auntie?"

"Yes, yes. Come," she ushers him, giddy with excitement. "I have some things that you'll appreciate."

"I don't think that's necessary," he sighs, nodding at the bags he was already carrying. He had fish and chicken slung over his shoulder. Not to mention the countless fresh produce in each bag... "Can it not wait until our next visit?"

"Nonsense," she swats his arm. "You will like what I have!"

Rationality and knowledge cannot override the cultural traditions and norms ingrained in each Sumeru citizen from a young age. Alhaitham follows the former Amurta researcher up to the hospital she now worked at during her retirement.

Dutifully, the Scribe stands in wait, ignoring the stares and awed whispers of the people as the old lady rounds the corner of the reception desk to dig through her stock. Save for a couple of patients and their attending physicians, the Bimarstan is quiet today.

"Here," she hums proudly, brandishing a bundle of pouches. They're beautifully embroidered, with patterns that he could easily identify to be from some of the Seven nations. "I got some supplements for your wife."

The mere mention of you has the tips of Alhaitham's ears warming. The lady might be old, but her eyes are still sharp as ever. She chuckles, patting his arm appreciatively, and some of the staff familiar with you and he smile to themselves, knowing something many did not.

"You two are so adorable," she sighs wistfully. "Come, I'll explain each one to you."

"Thank you."

The old pharmacist explains each supplement in great detail. There's a whole assortment available, from powders, to tea bags, to roots, and to pills and potions from each nation. All of high quality.

"I'm sure she'll appreciate it," Alhaitham says, setting down his groceries to pull out his mora pouch. Once again, he's declined.

"If you really want to repay me, then go take better care of your wife," she tuts. The old lady always had a soft spot for you. "It's not healthy to make her worry so much."

The reminder brings forth a surge of emotions that he gingerly represses for now.

"Of course," he bows deeply, "I will. Thank you."

"Ah, I shan't hold you up anymore. Off you go!"

Neatly packing his spoils for the day, Alhaitham bids his farewell and walks off in the direction of his home. Though, unfortunately, it's not fast enough to escape the various food stall owners...

Returning home is no easy feat, not when you're lugging home months worth of groceries. Still, as with anything thrown his way, Alhaitham manages. He's careful with his keys, making sure they don't make too much noise lest you wake from your slumber or worse, run to greet him. And - Oh.

"Habibti," he says, greeting you out of habit even if he can clearly see that you're asleep on the couch.

As quietly as possible, Alhaitham shuffles his way into his house along with all the groceries. It's almost feels like he's a thief in his own house.

The groceries are set on the floor, in a neat pile that he'll sort out later. The citizens were well-meaning, but he needed to do another check to make sure nothing was tainted. He braces himself when the bags crinkle against each other, but you don't wake. Good, he thinks. You needed the rest.

Shoes off, his hands washed, any fatigue laced into his muscles dissipates the moment he comes to stand in front of you. Alhaitham leans down to brush aside stray strands of your hair away from your forehead. His fingers ghost over your soft skin. You looked glowing.

"Good evening," he greets softly, lips pressed against your forehead. You stir, but he soothes you back into dreamland. His palm smooths back and forth between your waist and where your bellybutton was, and he smiles himself when he sees the corner of your lips curl up.

Gently, he plucks your hands from the knitting needles Kaveh had gotten you. The half-done blanket resting on the swell of your belly is removed, set neatly on the coffee table with the rest of your colourful balls of yarn. Alhaitham easily carries you, slipping his an arm under your back and the other under your knees.

Though he wants to tuck you back in bed, he knows you well enough to place you into the comfy armchair he had gotten instead. He leaves, only to return from your shared bedroom with a fluffy blanket to keep you warm. Tucking you in is an terribly short affair. Parting from you takes a lot of willpower.

In the time you're asleep, Alhaitham busies himself around the house. The groceries get checked, washed, and put away, and he takes a much needed shower. He's halfway through sweating the minced garlic and shallots when you finally wake, your tiny, sleepy voice making its way to him.

"Haitham...?"

The fire goes out.

"Yes, habibti?" He pulls his apron off, walking out of the kitchen. Warmth pools in his chest when he takes you in; how your blanket slides off your shoulders; how your eyes blearily search him out.

"Welcome home," you say dazedly, arms open and raised up to beckon him in for a hug. Alhaitham closes the distance in less than a second, pulling you in.

"Mm," he hugs you tight, mindful of your baby bump. His hand splays out protectively over your tummy, and a light giggle erupts from you as you bask in his warmth.

Getting down on one knee, level with the evidence of his, and your, love, he looks up at you and asks, "How was your day, habibti?"

"I was working on the baby blanket," you tell him, gesturing at the knitwork on the table. "I was thinking of making a few."

"It's going well?"

You nod, happily engaging him in conversation before he carefully nudges open a new door of conversation. One that you understood, but didn't like. High on pregnancy hormones (and on stress), he distinctly remembers you crying to him in the middle of the night, telling him that it felt like you were being interrogated whenever he wouldn't let up on the questions.

You had subsequently thrown up dinner.

And promptly fell back asleep on him.

Thus, the small talk.

"Did our baby give you any trouble today?" He asks gently, a hand gently circling your wrist. One finger traces unintelligible symbols against your skin as the other pressed against your pulse.

You shake your head slowly as he counts in his. "Just some nausea."

"And lunch?" He asks, switching hands. "How was lunch? What did you have?"

You shake your head sadly. "Couldn't keep much of it down. Baby bird didn't agree with it."

"They didn't?" Alhaitham frowns, a contemplative look on his face. "I see. Did you drink-"

"Did I drink the tea you made?" You raise a brow, completing the question for him.

"...Yes."

You were catching on. And fast. Silently, he pulls your hand towards his face to kiss the back of your palm, hoping that it would throw you off.

"Did it help?"

"It did," you tell him. The suspicious look you had softens. "It was very good. Helped with the nausea for a bit."

"I see. And did you-"

"Haitham," You admonish gently. "Stop being such a worrywart. I've been taking care of myself. These things happen. It's normal."

"Yes, habibti, I'm aware, but you're already in your second trimester. I just want to check if-"

Accustomed to this, you cut him off with words he can't ignore.

"I'm hungry."

"You're hungry?" He pauses. He supposes that you're bound to be, considering what you had just reported about lunch. "I just started cooking, but the people at the Bazar gave us a lot of food."

"Really? That's nice of them. Why?"

"As thanks," he says vaguely, squeezing your side. "There's a lot of it. Tandoori chicken, Curry, Kebabs, Wraps... Is there anything to your fancy?"

"Mm, I guess," you half-heartedly answer. "Then why are you still cooking?"

"You said you wanted Butter Chicken this morning."

The name of the dish makes your mouth water, the reminder perking you up. The baby nestled deep in your womb agrees.

"Grab something light," he says, recognising that expression of yours. You looked pleased to smell his cooking wafting through the air, only just realising it after the grip of sleep had loosened its hold on you. "I only just started."

"Okay-"

"Sit down. I'll grab it for you. What do you want?" Your husband urges you back into the chair. It begins, once more.

"I don't know," you roll your eyes at him, "I have to get up and see what there is, don't I?"

"I already told you what there is. If it helps, there's Samosas and-"

"I want to look for myself," you interrupt. "I'm pregnant. Not incapable."

"The doctor said you need to be careful."

"The doctor said that I can move around. That I should move around."

"Within reason," he adds, grumbling, just because. Helping you stand after your complaints, you hold him, hugging his arm tightly, and Alhaitham watches you waddle towards the kitchen with him in tow.

He never expected the pregnant waddle to happen so soon. Archons, he hadn't expected you to look so cute, either. You were partway through your second trimester and he can't imagine how it'd be like in your third.

"Oooh," you coo, and he gets dragged back into reality. "There's Baklava?"

"And Panipuri." He says, hovering over you. If he thinks about it, he's almost like a little fly... Even his colours matched. With the way you're looking at him, you must have thought of the same thing. "And Custard. And Cakes. And-"

"Oh! Pudding!" You excitedly nab the Padisarah Pudding out of the cooler, clapping. Alhaitham lets out a low chuckle at your delight, reaching over to grab you a teaspoon so you could enjoy your desert.

"Now sit," he tells you, guiding you to the kitchen island, where there was a chair. He had gotten Kaveh to design and make one for you as part of his rental agreement. "You can watch me cook."

"You're not letting me help again?"

He shakes his head. From temporarily stepping down from your work as a researcher, to repeating dreams, and to Alhaitham having to go away for a mission, you had been stressed out from all the back-to-back changes. Only recently had you been discharged from bed rest after the news that he had gone insane from consuming forbidden knowledge and was exiled had caused you to faint in the middle of Treasure Street.

Alhaitham prides himself on his rational decision making skills, but keeping you in the dark to the happenings in Sumeru's political sphere had been by far the worst decision he had ever made.

You had fallen sick, carrying a fever for five days and five nights as the doctors at the Bimarstan worked around the clock to keep you stable. Luck had been on your side for you to have been found by one of the physicians. He had almost...

Alhaitham shakes his head, focusing instead on the metal band around his finger. Cooking was the least he could do for you after everything you had to handle.

Ignoring the pang in his chest, he resumes cooking. The wok sizzles, and you're happily munching away on your pudding, offering him a spoonful here and there as his ingredients go in in a methodological order. He tosses in peeled and boiled tomatoes, spices, and marinated chicken cubes from last night.

"It smells so good..."

"I know."

"But why aren't you making more?" You ask, leaning over so he could feed you a test bite of the creamy dish. "Is Kaveh not coming home for dinner?"

"It's none of our business, habibti," Alhaitham hums. "Kaveh can freeload food elsewhere."

"Haitham," you giggle. "That's not very kind."

"What? Letting him stay here rent-free is kind enough. I don't have to feed him, too."

"You're making him build our nursery," you remind him. "And baby-proof the house."

"It's part of the rental agreement."

"Still," you huff, watching your husband roll up his sleeves before portioning the dough for your naan. "At least leave him some food."

"He can have whatever we can't finish. Can we agree?" He says, rolling the dough out into flat circles. "We have too much food from the people, anyway. He can have those. The Butter Chicken is yours. You don't have to share."

You're swayed.

"...Fine."

He graduated from the Haravatat. To put it loosely, he's a linguist. A knack for words comes with the job.

"Good," he hums, handing you a bowl of melted butter so you wouldn't feel left out. You stir it with a clean spoon, mixing in garlic paste and chopped coriander.

It's peaceful. Serene. The sizzling in the background is nothing but homey, nothing but comfort. Alhaitham loves it when you sing to him while he cooks, but today he settles for a spritely summary of one of the books he's gotten you.

"Thank you, Haitham."

"Of course," he leans over to peck your temple. After serving you a hearty plate, Alhaitham finally sits with you to eat. "Anything you need."

"What would people say if they knew I had the Acting Grand Sage at home like this?"

"They'd praise me," he deadpans. His own plate lightly clinks against the table. "Especially if they knew the main reason why I helped."

"Show-off."

Wanting to keep his cushy job at the Akademiya may have been what had spurred him to take on a core role in the planning of rescuing Lesser Lord Kusanali, but apart from that, he was not about to leave a year's worth of fully-paid, fully covered paternity leave in the hands of some old man that woke up and decided that he wanted to play god.

Even now, it still sounded ridiculous in his head.

Alhaitham and you were only aware that the Grand Sage had something sinister cooking up, but nothing had been concrete. Investigating further was on the top of your priority list until you were faced with the possibility, and eventual confirmation, of your pregnancy.

Being so unexpected, the news had hit the both of you hard and fast. After both of your priorities needed a complete upheaval, it was a scramble to decide the next course of action.

Having you step down from your work as a result of the rough start to your pregnancy had been hard to hide from the prying eyes of Azar, his minions, and gossiping researchers. The walls of the Akademiya had ears. The barest wisps of whatever Azar was planning that had gotten back to you gave you the impression that they had wanted you to join in on the later stages of their scheme.

Recuperation may have been the main motivator, but the likelihood that a blunt rejection would spur on heavy retaliation had been a major reason why you were urged, and convinced, to take a medical leave of absence as early in as possible. As quietly as possible. Your weakened constitution had only spurred the advance of this plan.

Your sudden request for long medical leave had formed the basis of a well-known rumour that you were adamant on not acknowledging, not when you had suspected Alhaitham to be on Azar's hit list. Few knew of your marriage to him, only that you were in a relationship with the Scribe. He can only imagine what types of words were said behind closed doors.

Those days had been tense. Your act—though it wasn't really an act at all—was convincing, but the Sages seemed adamant on having you stay on. They had even questioned Alhaitham about your supposed illness. Half-truths made the best lie, and when Alhaitham only had the truth to tell them, they had no choice but to turn to other avenues.

Thankfully, the rumours had all died out when Tighnari was invited by the Sages to check on you.

Your long-standing friend had done you a favour that day. Under the watchful eye of the sages, the three of you had shared a look that Tighnari easily interpreted. A strongly worded letter of recommendation for medical leave had been issued, and you were immediately granted long leave. The rumours were put out in an instant. On account for your contributions to the Akademiya and to academia itself, your leave had been fully paid for as well.

Alhaitham makes a mental note to send the forest ranger some gifts again after everything dies down. He's been thinking of taking you on a short trip to Pardis Dhyai so you could visit some old classmates and colleagues. Maybe some crates of wine for him and his subordinates would suffice...

"If you revealed everything, I think they'd have a heart attack first," you muse, picking up your spoon. Looking at you now, it's almost as though your pregnancy had been nothing but smooth sailing. You looked so peaceful. Happy and content and glowing.

"I love your cooking," you sigh between bites, taking meaningful chomps out of your meal. Eyes falling shut to savour the taste, Alhaitham can't help but chuckle at the blissed out expression you made.

It's not rare for Alhaitham to cook for you, especially after finding out that you were expecting, but the way your eyes always light up, glimmering with stars? It makes him wonder just how good his food is to you for you to always react like this.

"Good?"

"Mhm!" You nod happily, shoveling the Butter Chicken coated garlic naan into your mouth. The flatbread was cooked to perfection, just the way you liked it. Too busy with your food, you don't even bother with a conversation.

Alhaitham sits back, watching you eat, making sure that his unborn child enjoys his food, too. It was early on in your pregnancy that he realises just how picky his child was. Coupled with morning sickness, any food that wasn't made by him, your body would reject. He had been tense those weeks, pouring over countless texts in the library trying to find a solution that would guarantee both you and your child's safety.

He had tracked your food intake, just to see if there was any sort of pattern that would emerge. To his surprise, one did. The only meals you could hold down were either those made by you, made by those close to you, or his. The latter worked the best. Alhaitham still has that nutrition table in his office, updated to this day.

Really, it's a wonder how people hadn't realised that you were pregnant. After Sumeru's political situation began to calm, he hadn't bothered hiding it. What did people think he ordered maternity dresses for? Even now, the number of people who knew of your pregnancy was few and far between. Cyno, surprisingly, was one of them.

Oh, well.

After seeing that you showed no sign of nausea, he finally picks up his spoon.

"Shall we go for a walk later tonight?" He asks after swallowing a bite of his food. "The weather is nice today."

Before getting swamped by the citizens, he had been thinking that it would be good to bring you out. So far, the only interactions you've had were either with him, the doctors, the stray cats that would visit, or with Kaveh. Although you hadn't complained, he knew that you were getting lonely.

"Really?" You ask excitedly, biting into your coated naan. "Where to?

"Anywhere you want," he says, pouring another ladel full of butter chicken onto your plate. "But we'll take it slow, okay? You haven't been out in some time. I don't want you to overexert yourself."

You chew slowly.

"I'm not weak."

"I never said that."

"You're implying it."

"I did not."

After a bit of back and forth, in which he could tell you were thoroughly enjoying, he remembers something that Housein had told him earlier in the day.

"I believe Miss Nilou is performing tonight. Would you like to watch?"

"Really? I'd love to!" Compared to him, you had always had a deep appreciation for the Arts. It's been some time since you've seen a live performance. Eyes shimmering, you ask, "Can we go get some sweets at the Bazar, too? The baby's been craving it."

You didn't have to pull the cravings card to get it. Alhaitham would have gotten them for you regardless.

"If you'd like," he agrees. "I was thinking that we could get some more books, as well."

"What," you snicker, "the library you have isn't enough for you?"

"It's good to broaden your horizons. And I mean to get books for our child."

"Hm? Why?"

"Aren't you the Amurta scholar?" He quips. Then his voice grows softer. More gentle. "...I read that our child can start hearing in the second trimester."

The look of confusion on your face turns into a fond smile. "I'm not that far along enough, Haitham. That only happens later."

"Better now than never, don't you think?"

"Are you going to be reading to them, then?" You ask, resting your chin on your palm, a smile on your face as you tease him. "Are we going to have bedtime stories now?"

"Of course."

His bluntness takes you off guard, but Alhaitham fails to see how shocking this revelation can be. Why wouldn't he be reading to his child?

"Oh," you say dumbly. "I... Yeah. That's a good idea—Ah!"

Alhaitham's spoon clatters to the table at the sound of your punctured gasp. He's by your side in an instant, looking over you once, twice, thrice, as you hold onto your stomach, eyes blown wide open, pupils dilated.

"W-What?" Adrenaline rushes through his veins. "What's wrong, albi? What's the matter? Are you alright? What hurts? Stay here, I'll call for someone right now-"

"No," you whisper, grabbing his hand to stop him from running off. They tremble in your hold, and he swallows tightly past the lump in his throat. You stare silently at your belly, and Alhaitham, at you.

"Albi," he insists. "My love. Don't scare me. C'mon, we need to... go..."

Palm covering his, you guide his hand to your belly.

Alhaitham, the Scribe of Sumeru, the star of the Haravatat, for the first time in forever, is at a loss for words. Every letter and every syllable he's come to learn dissipates on the tip of his tongue, his mind blanking out into nothingness. Within him, synapses fire off rapidly, capturing everything about this moment. Everything refocuses onto what rests below his palm.

There's a tiny flutter. One that grows more insistent.

"Haitham... I think our baby is trying to say hi."

Bimarstan: Hospital in Sumeru Habibti: Term of endearment meaning Darling Albi: Term of endearment meaning My love

A/N: bc of this fic i'll have to make a new masterlist and update my pinned aaaaaaa okay goodbye it's time for me to return to my studies (and to gojo) [i say this but tell me why i wanna write about the time cyno found alhaitham at the bimarstan with reader...]

©shiinleaf Do not plagiarise, use, translate and/or share my content outside of Tumblr in any way, shape, or form. Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated if you enjoyed!