Random Yan Chrollo Blurb Because I Can't Stop Thinking About Him Even If I Try .

random yan chrollo blurb because i can't stop thinking about him even if i try . 🙏

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“… Are you still sure?”

“I’m still sure.”

“Swear to me.” 

“I swear.”

“That wasn’t sincere enough… swear… swear on the Troupe. In the name of their, uh, honor, or whatever.”

“Honor?” The word sounds humorous coming from Chrollo’s lips. “Very well. I swear on the honor of the Phantom Troupe that I won’t go back on my word.” 

You sit across from a formidable opponent. Fate has decreed this your lot, so you’ve taken what has been forcibly thrust upon you and sworn to crush it. However, at this stage, you’ve modified your parameters to be more realistic. The new, somewhat more obtainable goal is to leave a dent. Or a scratch, perhaps. 

For this dream to be realized, risks must be taken. The risk in this case is a willingness to interact with a man named Chrollo Lucilfer. His is a species defined by its tenacity. Through trial and error, you’ve concluded that typical avenues of escape aren’t in the cards. Nothing concerning the life you lead now is ordinary, so creativity and a solid vision are paramount. 

Your adversary sits leaning forward, his elbow on the table, forearm extending upward, and palm open. He observes you with the degree of amusement he always does, content in waiting for you to make the first move. 

You take a deep breath. Oxygen floods your being and blood circulates in full force. Every system in your body is primed and ready, there’ll be no better window, so you take it, springing into action. 

Contact is made with his outstretched palm. You steady your footwork for better balance, then pull, demanding everything your muscles can deliver and then some. This immense exertion of force is the culmination of your efforts. Hours of scheming by the window, exercising self-control not to pour salt on his strawberries so he’d be more affable to your requests, running mental calculations and simulations… 

… Alas, it’s not enough. 

You pitched a pseudo arm wrestling competition where you could use any means necessary to make him budge. You didn’t dare stipulate that you successfully pull his arm down, your hubris doesn’t extend that far; but the slightest movement on his part would spell your victory. A victory that’d have him fulfill any request your overactive imagination could conjure up. These terms and conditions were smoothed out in a verbal binding contract. 

His countenance is the same as it would be if he were flipping through a book or pulling his phone from his pocket — entirely casual. He isn’t even straining himself to maintain this stalemate. It’s possible that his physical strength is simply beyond your understanding, as is that parapsychological phenomena he refers to as Nen. 

“What,” you heave, disbelief coloring your tone, “Is your body made out of?” 

“Oxygen, hydrogen, nitrogen—” 

“It was rhetorical, Mr. Alchemist,” you cut him off. 

He simply shrugs and smiles. Somehow, his arm still hasn’t moved an inch throughout that exchange. The thought of this metric gives you pause. An idea is sown and imbued with life in the span of a few seconds. 

“Ah, that’s the expression you get before you say something endearing,” he comments, almost dreamily. 

You ignore him and straighten up, ready to argue over technicalities like your life depends on it. Seeing that you’ve abandoned your previous scheme, he relaxes back into the chair. 

“I have a case. How do we know your arm didn’t move… an atom to the side?” 

Chrollo tilts his head. “An atom?” 

“Yes. If an inch is a unit of measurement, there has to be something smaller. So maybe your arm didn’t move an inch, but it moved the width of an atom. Are you following me?” 

“...” 

You barely comprehend it. 

One second, you’re standing, the next, you’re sitting, with arms and a familiar cologne engulfing you. You can feel the low rumbling of his chest. He chuckles into your ear and secures you tighter against him upon sensing your instinct to struggle. Scowling, you cross your arms while he regains his composure. 

“Don’t be cross with me, dear,” he smooths out your shirt, as if it’d exonerate him of his transgressions. “I’m not laughing at you. You’re just… everything. Everything I need. I’m sorry. Please finish your point.” 

“Court’s adjourned.” 

“That’s a shame. When might it reopen?”

“Never, you’re sentenced to death. No appeals.”  

“I thought you opposed capital punishment?” 

“Each second that has passed since this conversation began has regressed my views by a decade each.” 

"I'll just have to hold onto you for the time being then."

All you can muster the strength to do is sigh.

♡𝅼 ་ ׅ STUCK IN BETWEEN MASTERLIST — genshin x reader : smau choose your own adventure ៹٠ ࣪ idol au

☆ WHY DON'T WE

FALL IN L O V E ? ☆

♡‧₊˚ LOVE INTERESTS : kazuha, scaramouche, xiao, heizou x gn!reader + more (potentially)

★ : PREMISE : after getting the bad ending for the otome game you're obsessed with, you accidentally crack your phone and suddenly find yourself transported into the game! how will you survive in this fictional world with no money or real identity? your only option is to play the game and hope you can save all the characters... but how are you supposed to be discreet when the love interests you're supposed to help are famous idols who are all programed to like you? and why do you still have to work for gems just to make good choices??

★ : OPTIONS : @st0pthatsgay @kodzusmiles @mellowberrie @aruatsu @kirimoochi @aichiicleris @rainswept @kqbukimono @iravinirattu comment to be added to/removed from the taglist !

★ : SAVE FILES : 📌 for choices | ❤️ for texts | 💌 for written ➛

ˑ ꜛ ACT ONE — THIS CAN'T BE REAL !

00. hopelessly in love ❤️

01. ???

02. ???

风月 (lit. wind, moon; pronounced "fengyue") — meaning "beautiful scenery" or "romance".

In which you drag Dan Heng halfway across the universe for a candied fruit skewer, and he gets a taste of the life that was once denied to him. (dan heng x gn!reader)

7.5k words of fluff and romance! Features an established relationship and many Chinese cultural elements. Cultural/Translation notes at the end. Note that "Yinyue-jun" is the Chinese for "Imbibitor Lunae". Reader's appearance is undefined, but they were raised on the Luofu and in the Xianzhou culture. Dividers by @/saradika.

Written for the Meet Fruit collab! Prompt: Dan Heng + Hawberry

It is absurdly difficult to find hawberries on this side of the Triangulum Galaxy.

Dan Heng discovers this after you begin a laser-focused mission to acquire some, scouring the grocery stores of three consecutive Astral Express stops for the elusive fruit. Why you're so obsessed with finding them, he doesn't know. He guesses he'd maybe triggered some kind of nostalgia for them when he'd made an offhand comment about tanghulu a few weeks back.

I’ve never actually had them before, was all he’d said. It had been such a brief remark; he's surprised it stuck with you.

He'd mentioned it in the archives, while sitting with you on the futon spread across the glowing floor. You'd been leaning against his shoulder, idly skimming the novella in his hands: a Xianzhou literary piece. Highly introspective, full of complicated relationships, blatantly romantic in its subject matter. The protagonist and his wife had been at a festival for lovers: Qixi Jie. It's a day widely celebrated throughout the Alliance, Dan Heng knows from all his books, and inspired by a myth about an ill-fated love between two immortals.

The couple had decided to share a skewer of tanghulu, and you'd been reading the scene when you sighed, Wish we could have one together. Then you gave him a teasing smile. You know, Heng’er—I didn’t think you'd be into this kind of story. Who knew you were such a romantic!

I’m not actually, he'd replied. But of course, you hadn’t believed him, and you ended up pestering him about his taste in romance novels for the better part of an hour. Apparently you were looking for a new one to read, but he had no trashy webnovel recommendations for you.

It is the truth that Dan Heng does not gravitate toward love stories. This novel is not his usual fare, and he'd likely have little interest in this sort of fiction coming from any other world. But he'd enjoyed the sentimental tone of this particular story, set upon the Luofu: he'd liked the way the text lingered on the golden warmth of its sun, on the frenetic bustle of its street markets, on the calm beauty of its starry nights. Even the smallest of actions, in the voice of this author, carried with them a quiet magic. The wind, the moon, the heavens and the earth—all of it had felt so palpable between those pages.

Of course, Dan Heng has never experienced any of that firsthand. For all he knows, everyday life on the Luofu might be as tiresome as it is on any other world. Certainly you’ve complained about it a great deal during your tales about your childhood spent there with your shifu: the traffic was terrible, the seaside markets were too crowded, and the fishmonger always tried to scam me! Supposedly, the air quality was going downhill by the time you had to leave, too.

Maybe Dan Heng would be equally disenchanted by it all. Maybe he'd hate the rush hour commute, the raucous streets, the ozone in the recycled air. Maybe the sun and the stars would simply feel like a backdrop to the mundanity of daily life. He can’t be certain that the reality of the Luofu is anything like the dream-like world painted within any book.

But he is certain about this: that for the fleeting moment he’d been allowed outside, Dan Heng had, for the first time, gazed upon the world on which he’d been born—

—and it had been beautiful.

Tanghulu Recipe:

Wash and dry 30 hawberries – substitute crabapple? gege allergic. will do strawberries.

Sterilize a bamboo skewer in hot water, and use it to skewer the hawberries

Add 150 grams of rock sugar to 150 grams of hot water; heat until boiling, then keep on high heat until all the sugar has melted

Once large bubbles start to form, turn to low heat and simmer until the mixture turns yellow

Roll the hawthorn skewers along the surface of the mixture until the syrup coats the entire skewer. – SHIJIE SAYS MUST BE QUICK! and not ugly!

Allow the skewers to cool at room temperature. – best to eat fresh, can freeze

“You seem disappointed,” Dan Heng remarks.

On any normal day, you'd give your boyfriend full attention at the mere sound of his voice: eyes set upon his features, diligently noting every microexpression and quirk of his lips. (In general, you pay an awful lot of attention to his lips.) But things are different today, and you hardly look at him.

Your gaze is instead occupied with the candied fruit in your hands: strawberries that Dan Heng had washed and cut a little while ago, strung up on a metal skewer that the Express chefs had donated to you. Each strawberry is glossy with a layer of syrup, a sugary concoction that you’d spent a half hour stirring. It had cooled by the time you sampled the fruit, a hard crunch between your teeth. The aftertaste is still in your mouth, sweet and tart.

It’s—it’s not bad.

“Did I say I was disappointed?” you ask, still studying your handiwork.

“You don’t have to say it. I can tell.”

Without warning, Dan Heng takes the strawberry tanghulu from your hands, and you squawk.

“Gege! There’s, like, ten other skewers!”

“Hm. That’s too bad. I want this one.”

There is not even a single trace of remorse in his eyes as he takes his first bite. He seems only contemplative as he chews, humming as he samples it.

"It's good," he says decisively. He raises a brow when he looks at you. "Why are you unhappy with it?"

"It is good," you admit, "but it isn't… traditional. Strawberry tanghulu is tasty, but, like—I grew up eating the haw ones, you know? That's the classic flavour. Like, when you read a novel and there's a Lantern Festival, the characters are having haw skewers. Not strawberry ones."

"Does it matter if I'm eating what I read about?" Dan Heng asks, and it takes everything not to say yes.

It's always been plain as day to you that Dan Heng is enamoured with the Luofu. He's always working his way through some Xianzhou novel, or trying to acquire an old film set on the Luofu, or labouring in the archives while a Xianzou drama plays in the background. At first you'd assumed that this was all motivated by some kind of nostalgia for his birthplace, a longing for a life that he'd been forced to leave—

—but then you found out that Dan Heng never actually had a life on the Luofu.

He'd been born and raised in a prison, he once confided in you. He didn't see the Luofu sun until he was an adult, and it was only for a moment before he was sent into exile. He hadn't been allowed a home, hadn't been allowed a family, hadn't even been allowed the privilege of breathing fresh air. The rich scent of bao being fried in the crisp morning air, the mad clamour of the streets at night, the act of sitting at a kitchen table and folding hundreds of dumplings with your loved ones: his childhood had been devoid of all those things.

All the things you once took for granted are things that Dan Heng's only ever experienced through books.

You've made it a mission to have him experience some of it now, of course. Taught him how to knead dough and showed him all the different dumpling folds you learned from your Shifu. Forced him to sit down for proper breakfasts and had him try youtiao and soy milk, which have now become comfort foods. Bought mooncakes for his first Mid-Autumn Festival and watched his complicated expressions as he bit into duck egg yolk for the first time (decidedly not a comfort food).

And—on God—you will also watch him have proper tanghulu made from hawberries!

"Eh. I guess it's not that important," you lie. "But I have a craving for it, Gege." You give him a killer pair of puppy eyes, and he visibly pauses. "Can we go to a market that might sell some? Or maybe find a street festival? Actually, you know—I don't even know the last time I went to a festival… Wouldn't it be fun to go?"

"I've actually never been to one," Dan Heng replies casually, and you gawk.

"You've never been to a festival?"

"Not a Xianzhou festival." He pauses, as if thinking. "Not any markets either."

"...how?"

"I've always avoided Alliance ships."

"But—but there's plenty of people with Xianzhou heritage who aren't with the Alliance?! Like—like on Xinghan Space Station! You've never visited?"

"Not aside from that one time we were there for business," he replies. "It's not like I ever go on vacation."

"Why not?!"

"Being constantly hunted for revenge makes it hard," Dan Heng deadpans, and he doesn't seem bothered, but you feel distinctly terrible about it.

"...okay. I'm forcing you to take a vacation on July 7th and 8th."

Dan Heng stares. "Why?"

"Because we're going to Xinghan to get some tanghulu."

He doesn't even blink. "Not a chance."

"Eh? Why not!"

"Because that's a silly reason to go so far out of our way." His eyes flicker, stress lines shifting and disappearing: possibly his most frequent microexpression around you. "And what if I'm recognized? We could be attacked."

"That's fine," you wave off. "If someone tries to kill Gege, I'll just kill them first."

"..."

"What? It'd be self-defense."

"...lethal violence should not be your first response to a threat."

"But it would be an effective one."

He gives you a flat look. Not for the first time, you wonder how a man who fights for a living manages to be such a pacifist.

"...okay, okay. If I promise not to kill anyone—will you go with me?" You latch onto his arm, pulling out all the stops and giving him your most pleading eyes. "I just want to have a romantic night together, Gege. We haven't been on a real date in so long."

It's nearly imperceptible, but Dan Heng falters. There are clearly two wolves inside him: one that wants to be responsible, and one that wants to spoil you.

It's obvious which one is winning.

"Qixi Festival is coming up," you add, a lilt to your voice, "and I bet we could find somewhere to celebrate it. Wouldn't it be nice to spend it together, Heng'er?"

He stares at the candied fruit in his hands: all strawberries that he washed and cut without a word, before you'd even thought to ask. Food that he'd made and tasted—like so many other dishes before it—only because you demanded it, no matter how troublesome it was to do it.

"...I'll go put in my vacation request with Himeko," he decides.

THE QIXI FESTIVAL is traditionally celebrated around the 7th day of the 7th month on the Xianzhou Normalized Calendar, with adjustments made for time dilation effects depending on distance between ships and proximity to large celestial bodies. Elsewhere in the universe, the Qixi Festival is celebrated in locations with significant populations of Xianzhou diaspora, such as the Xinghan Space Station and the Chang’E Moon Settlement. These settlements typically observe the Qixi Festival on July 7th per their local calendar dates. – Double check Xinghan dates; confirm ETA with Pompom. Has July 7th already passed on Xinghan's local calendar? CELEBRATORY PRACTICES vary significantly between different settlements, and even between the Xianzhou Alliance ships themselves. They may include street festivals, temple fairs, sewing competitions, and the worship of certain immortals and Aeons. In some places, people celebrate with a simple date night. Being the lover’s festival, many couples aim to get married on this day. – Search later: What do boyfriends get their partners for Qixi? DESPITE THESE VARIATIONS, all observances are dedicated to celebrating the myth of the Cowherd (personification of the star Altair; Bayer designation: Alpha Aquilae) and the Weaver Girl (personification of the star Vega; Bayer designation: Alpha Lyrae). IN THIS XIANZHOU FOLKTALE, the Cowherd and Weaver Girl were two immortals who fell in love and entered a forbidden relationship. The Jade Aeon tore them apart from one another, and they were shortly after banished to opposite sides of the Heavenly River (otherwise known as the Milky Way, within the Virgo Supercluster of galaxies). From henceforth, they lived separately, only able to watch—

“Wow, Gege,” you say, and Dan Heng nearly drops his book. “This is the most romantic myth in all of Xianzhou history, and you’re reading the driest possible textbook summary to learn about it? Why didn't you just ask me?” You lean over his shoulder, squinting at the page. “What the hell is a ‘Bayer designation’? 'Vega'?! Her name is Zhinü!”

Dan Heng is momentarily too bewildered to feel embarrassed about being caught with this book. "You don't know what a Bayer designation is? Don't you have a pilot's license? How on earth do you navigate in space?"

"Well, I have a tendency of getting lost…"

With significant horror, Dan Heng reflects on every moment he's allowed you to pilot the spacecraft the two of you sometimes use to get away for dates.

"...I am never letting you drive again."

"Fine by me, Gege! I'll rely on you from now on." You beam at him, pressing into his shoulder. Then—again, with significant horror—Dan Heng notices that you're reading his annotations in the book.

He instantly snaps it shut, but the damage is done: you turn to him with a wide, giddy smile, and start pawing at his arm with excitement.

"'What do boyfriends get their partners for Qixi?' Heng'er—were you trying to research this for me?"

Dan Heng considers lying for a moment. There are countless potential explanations as to why he decided to consult a textbook instead of going to you. He could easily say that you'd probably forget details in recounting the myth, and that wouldn't do because he'd wanted a comprehensive explanation (true). Or he was genuinely wanting to check the dates because he knew you wouldn't have accounted for different calendars (also true). He'd doubted that you'd remember that not everyone in the universe operates on Interastral Standard Time—a fair suspicion, given that you don't even know what a Bayer Designation is.

But seeing your radiant, pleasantly surprised smile—Dan Heng decides not just to lose face, but to practically obliterate it.

"Yes," he plainly confesses. "I wanted to know how to celebrate the Qixi Festival properly with you." He tries to ignore the heat prickling the back of his neck. "...and I wanted to surprise you."

You go a little wide-eyed, blinking—probably as surprised about the admission as him—and then peck him on the cheek, smiling. "Heng'er, you don't need to worry about celebrating properly or improperly. As long as you spend both days with me, I'm happy enough."

He hesitates. Truthfully, he's read probably an upward of a thousand novels and poems that mention the Qixi Festival and the associated myth—but nothing about how people on the Luofu celebrate it nowadays.

How you would have celebrated it.

"I just want to make sure you enjoy yourself," he explains. "And that I do all the things I should be doing. I have no experience with this… I didn't even know it was a two-day celebration."

"Huh? It's not."

"...it's not?"

"Well, I guess some places have events that happen over several days—but that's not a traditional thing. Qixi Festival is technically just one day."

He raises a brow. "Then why did you want the 8th off too?"

"Because I want to have a romantic evening with you on the 7th, and then a romantic night with you in the hotel, and then a romantic morning with you on the 8th."

"..."

"I'm talking many, many rounds of romance, Gege. That's the greatest gift you could give me."

"...of course it is."

You beam at him, exceptionally pleased. (Why or how, Dan Heng's not actually certain; it's not like you don't already have as many rounds of sex with him as the day allows.) But it still bothers him: the reality that he's never celebrated this before. That he won't know how to do all the right things, or what the right things even are.

The honey-sweet sesame taste of qiaoguo, which stars to look for in the sky, presents that he should gift you: he's never known any of these things, but will soon know them with you.

Or possibly fuck them all up with you.

"How did you celebrate the Qixi Festival when you were on the Luofu?" Dan Heng asks, somehow remaining expressionless.

You don't seem to catch onto his nerves, only pondering the question.

"Um… well, honestly, I didn't really."

Dan Heng stares. "What?"

"Well, like, Shifu took me to temple fairs and stuff. My friend participated in a sewing competition too, once, and I watched her. But I was a kid when I lived on the Luofu—they drove us out when I was still pretty young. I wasn't exactly going on romantic date nights at that age."

"...I see."

Lacing your fingers through his, you stare at your joined hands. Your voice is a little tender when you say, "The way I see it, Heng'er—I don't think we need to think about celebrating it the right way or the wrong way. We're gonna be lovers at the lovers' festival, which is good enough."

Dan Heng considers your words, his thumbpad running along the curve of your hand. "Is that right?"

"Yes! Like—who cares what lovers on the Luofu do with each other? It's much more important what my lover does with me." You pause, then, seeming thoughtful. "....as long as he tries some tanghulu while we're at it."

Dan Heng feels like he's drunk a nauseating amount of that tanghulu syrup—but also like his chest is going to combust. It's an unusual cross of emotions. He'll never get used to it, even though he experiences it nearly daily when you're around. And he'll never know the words to use, even though he's searched for them so often.

"...is food all that matters to you when you celebrate this?" is all can bring himself to say, voice dry.

"And the romance," you add neatly, not the least bit ashamed.

Dan Heng’s mouth twitches.

"Right, of course. The romance."

Thank you for booking with Xinghan Grand Hotel!

As one of this world’s finest establishments, we are pleased to host you for your stay on July 7th through July 8th.

Xinghan is a vast space station, remarkable for its terrestrial landscape and breathtaking countryside. Founded by Xianzhou natives several centuries ago, the beautiful scenery at the outer regions of the station mimics that of their various home worlds. Xinghan City itself is a vibrant and cosmopolitan metropolis with influences from planets all throughout the Pinwheel Galaxy.

You are encouraged to make full use of our concierge services to help you shape an itinerary for your stay. Our staff are happy to help you navigate the remarkable sights of Xinghan. Whether you are here for business or pleasure, there is something for everyone on the Heavenly River.

We look forward to your stay with us, Dan Heng Xiansheng.

Celebrating the Qixi Festival on Xinghan Station is hell.

The station itself is, of course, nearly idyllic in its beauty. And objectively, your romantic getaway with Dan Heng is lovely from start to finish. The two of you check into a gorgeous—and shockingly expensive—hotel in a quiet corridor of the city, not far from the outskirts of the station. The lobby alone startles you with its high ceilings, crystal chandeliers, and marbled floors. You don't know if you've ever stayed in such a nice place.

(When you ask Dan Heng how much money he blew on this trip, he merely shrugs and says not to worry about it. You’d be terrified if it were anyone else who'd done the booking—certainly, Dan Heng would be terrified if you had—but your boyfriend is too fiscally responsible for you to question it too much.)

The concierge at the hotel provides a sightseeing itinerary that would be “perfect for a honeymoon”, taking advantage of all the Qixi deals at restaurants and theme parks. Dan Heng, though, seems more interested in exploring all the everyday happenings of the station. He asks to go to the morning market (you’ve never seen a man so enthralled by cheap fried dough), talks you into hiking the mountains so that he can take pictures of the rice terraces (you cheat by using your flying sword to carry the both of you up), and asks to stroll around the seaside harbour. You lounge there for a little, sitting on a bench and watching the junks drift by, their sails fluttering in the wind.

You frown as you study the ships.

“Why don’t they just use pneumatic tubes for transporting goods? Or automated starskiffs?” you ponder. “Like—this looks like a planet. But it’s still a space station at the end of the day.”

“The ships are likely more appealing to tourists,” Dan Heng says smartly.

“Huh. Does it appeal to you?”

“It’s—”

Dan Heng’s reply is drowned by the high-pitched trill of a reed, then the thunder of a gong: the unmistakable sound of a wedding.

Laughter and cheering fill the pier as a procession of men file through, bearing a fire-red palanquin. Both of you turn to watch the spectacle, and—even though this is your tenth time hearing the suona since you woke up this morning, which is absolute hell for your ears, and decidedly making Qixi absolute hell for you—you cheer and yell your blessings as they pass.

Through the beaded curtain of the sedan, you think you make out a wave from the bride.

“That textbook wasn’t exaggerating about people wanting to get married on Qixi,” Dan Heng muses as they trail away, their song growing faint. “I’ve never seen a Xianzhou wedding procession before today. Now I’ve seen nine.”

“Ten,” you correct him. “And you’ll probably see ten more before the night starts. Ah, Gege, my eardrums are going to burst at this rate…”

When you lean against him and feign exhaustion, he rolls his eyes. “So dramatic,” he says, though his hand presses against the small of your back, as if to steady you. “You don’t find it nice?”

“It's fine, I guess?" You squint at him. "Why? Do you find it nice? Are you the kind of person that really likes weddings, Gege?”

“I’ve never been to one, so I don’t know,” he says simply. “But it seems like people are enjoying themselves, and that’s never a bad sight.”

You give him a keen look, studying the way he watches the procession disappear around the corner—clearly intrigued by it. For someone who so often says that they don’t enjoy love stories, Dan Heng has been oddly fixated on every celebration of love you've come across today.

How interesting.

“Say, Gege…” Your voice is teasing. “Wanna elope?”

Dan Heng visibly pauses, blinking twice before turning to stare at you.

“What?”

You stifle a laugh. “Many people have proper weddings during Qixi Festival,” you say, smiling, “but tons of people also just decide to elope. All the wedding registry offices are probably crazy busy right now, but I bet we could find one that could squeeze us in and tie the knot for us. What do you say?”

He shoots you down instantly: “No way.”

“Eh? Why?” You look at him all hurt, your lower lip wobbling. “You don’t wanna marry me, Gege?”

“No.”

“Wow! That hurts, Ge!”

Dan Heng snorts. He turns to you, and—in an uncharacteristic move, only made possible because the two of you are alone and on a world where no one from the Astral Express is there to gawk at him—he cups your face with his hands.

His voice gets a little soft when he says, “Not today.”

“...oh.”

Your mind goes a little blank as you stare at him, at the tender glint in his jade-like eyes, and the soft curve to his lips—and fuck, who gave your boyfriend the right to look so fucking handsome?

You breathe deeply. Another suona tremors in the distance, and against the waves of the sea, its echo sounds almost soft.

“Not today?” you ask faintly. “But some other day?”

“Yes. Some other day. And…” He looks away, glances at the now-empty street. “...it would be nice to do it properly. Instead of just eloping.”

“Properly,” you repeat. “Like, um. You wanna wear a suit? Exchange rings? Or…" Your eyes follow his line of sight. "Do you mean like that wedding party?”

His head inclines—so slight that you nearly miss it.

“With a palanquin?” you confirm. “And a tea ceremony? You want us to do our three bows and all of that?”

He watches you carefully. “Would it be strange?”

“Huh? No.” You bite your lip. His eyes flick down. You’re finding it increasingly hard to focus with the way that your blood is rushing in your ears. “Why would it be strange?”

“Well, it is a Xianzhou tradition, and we don’t have any Xianzhou family—or, well. We don’t have any family. So it might be… odd.”

“Who cares?” you say. You’re only half-listening to him, too focused on holding back from kissing him. “I wanna see you in red, Heng'er. I bet it's a good colour on you."

The corner of his mouth twitches. “Alright. But it'll look better on you, I’m sure.”

You blink, feeling as startled as your face is hot. Not a romantic, my ass! you can't help but think.

You also can't help but tease him.

“...Heng’er,” you say slowly, a playful edge growing in your voice, “I knew you had a romantic streak in you. Forget Yinyue-jun—I should start calling you Fengyue-ju—mmmph!”

Before you can start running your mouth, Dan Heng silences you the way he knows best.

IN THIS XIANZHOU FOLKTALE, the Cowherd and Weaver Girl were two immortals who fell in love and entered a forbidden relationship. The Jade Aeon tore them apart from one another, and they were shortly after banished to opposite sides of the Heavenly River (otherwise known as the Milky Way, within the Virgo Supercluster of galaxies). From henceforth, they lived separately, only able to watch each other from opposite sides of the river bank. Seeing their grief, every magpie in the world took pity on them and decided to form a bridge across the Heavenly River, allowing them to cross it. The Jade Aeon, also upon witnessing their heartbreak, decided to let them see one another for a single day. According to myth, the birds have since gathered once a year on the seventh day of the seventh month. On that day, the Cowherd and Weaver Girl meet each other at the cusp of the bridge. IN TRADITIONAL CELEBRATIONS OF THE QIXI FESTIVAL, people would look up at the sky at night and admire the stars of Vega and Altair. They would also search for Deneb (Bayer designation: Alpha Cygni), which represents the Bridge of Magpies.

When the sun falls on Xinghan, you and Dan Heng return to the harbour at which you’d been spending your afternoon. Beneath a foreign night sky—illuminated by two oblong moons and stars rippling in the pattern of mares’ tail clouds—the pier is lit by countless lanterns and smiles. Women dressed in traditional robes weave through the crowd, the flowing silk of their ruqun trailing after delicate steps. The fresh seaside air mingles with the spiced fragrance of lamb skewers, the sweetness of cooking dough, the rich scent of grilling vegetables.

And at the centre of it all: your hand clasped tightly in his, guiding him through the chaos to all the dishes and games you loved most from your childhood. To all the things that he’s longed to taste for weeks now, ever since the two of you made these plans.

Dan Heng finds it almost—almost—perfect.

“Dan Heng," a voice calls out from behind the two of you, "Dan Heng! Wait up! I wanna get some corn!”

“What? Why are you getting corn? You can get corn anywhere… C’mon, those lamb skewers were calling to us… begging to be eaten… I can still hear them...”

“You can what now?”

Dan Heng rubs his temple, looking at you.

“Remind me again why you agreed to let March and Caelus come with us,” he says, and you laugh.

“Because festivals are fun with more people,” you say. Then you tilt your head, studying him. “Don’t tell me you’re not having fun, Gege?”

“I’m enjoying myself,” he says honestly, and not even the incomprehensible word salad coming from Caelus' mouth can ruin the mood, with the smile you give him.

You lean in, bring your lips close to his ear. Your breath tickles him as you ask, “Is it just that you want more time alone with me?”

“Well,” he replies, “watching Caelus go through trash wasn’t exactly the night I had planned for us.”

You chuckle. “Okay, okay. I think I have a way of shaking him off.”

Dan Heng gives you a questioning look, but you only wink and tug at his hand. You lead him through the crowds once more, yelling at Caelus and March to follow.

He has a half a mind to ask you to slow down, with how much the two of you are missing at this pace. You pass by a shadow puppetry show, the silhouettes of Niulang and Zhinü dancing on a luminous screen, and Dan Heng wants nothing more than to see the myth play out before his own eyes—but your pull is unrelenting. You skip past a man crafting sugar sculptures, a group of dancers twirling with water sleeves, a rack of crisp potato skewers, and countless other sights that Dan Heng's eyes trail after.

It’s only then that you slow down—and Dan Heng wishes you hadn’t.

The four of you are assaulted by what must be the most horrific stench in the Pinwheel Galaxy. He presses his sleeve against his nose and tries not to gag.

“Is there no garbage disposal at this festival?” Dan Heng asks with plain disgust, while Caelus perks up and simultaneously says, “Smells like there’s a dumpster nearby.”

March pinches her nose. “Ew—let’s get out of here. I wanna see those sugar animals—they looked so cute!”

“No, no," Caelus replies. "We can go back in a bit, I wanna go take a look first…”

He makes a beeline for wherever that ungodly odour is coming from, and March, with a deep sigh, follows him. “I’ll go keep an eye on him,” she says, voice heavy with resignation. “You two enjoy your date.”

“Make sure he doesn’t eat anything weird again,” Dan Heng says, and that makes you laugh. He narrows his eyes at you, noting your completely unbothered expression, and asks, “What’s so funny?”

“That smell isn’t from garbage, Gege. That’s stinky tofu. Completely safe to eat—and it’s actually pretty good, too.” You tilt your head. “I thought it’d be a good way to distract Caelus—but do you want to try some?”

He thinks he might be going green. “Maybe later,” he says, somehow keeping his voice neutral. “Didn’t you want to find tanghulu?”

Dan Heng tries not to sigh with relief when you say, “Oh, true… let’s go look for some.”

Funnily enough, hawberries seem to be as impossible to find on this side of the Triangulum Galaxy as it was on the other.

The two of you have been walking through the stalls for at least half an hour now, on a focused search for the elusive candied skewers. The two of you find an assortment of qiaoguo, a variety of persimmon cakes, and delicately crafted sugar paintings. (“Look, Gege! Let’s request one of the Azure Dragon,” you suggest, triggering an immense headache in Dan Heng.)

But you don’t come across any tanghulu.

After you finally give up, you retreat to a quiet corner of the pier, biting into a peach-shaped qiaoguo while your legs dangle over the water. Dan Heng, himself, has the dulcet taste of bronze sugar melting on his tongue: part of the dragon you’d requested from the sugar painter, set on a bamboo stick. Despite the sweetness of your snacks, Dan Heng picks out a bitter air from you.

You don't say anything, though. The two of you only peer at an artificial sky as you eat, taking in its strange features. There is but a single, round moon within it, and its stars are unusually bright. They run across the black night in a silver river: a precise copy of the Milky Way, in the Virgo Supercluster of galaxies, as seen from Earth.

Xinghan Space Station is capable of large-scale atmospheric projections, Dan Heng had read in the hotel’s travel brochure. Apparently, they like to recreate Earth’s night sky during the Qixi Festival, as an homage to the original stars that gave birth to the myth. They'd only switched it on fifteen minutes ago, and the both of you had stopped to stargaze.

You squint at the constellations above you.

“I have… no idea where Zhinü and Niulang are," you remark.

“No?”

“No… the Luofu never did these atmospheric projections. And—I guess I should be able to figure it out since I've got a licence, but, well… you know I’m not very good at navigating the stars.”

Dan Heng bites off the last of his sugar dragon, then crouches down next to you. Without a word, he raises the bamboo rod and uses it to gesture at the constellation of Lyra. “Zhinü is the brightest star in that cluster over there—right next to those four stars making a parallelogram.” He then points above it, at the constellation of Aquila; your line of sight follows the bamboo skewer closely. “And the bright one over there—that’s Niulang.”

You rest your head on his shoulder, humming. “Does the Bridge of Magpies represent a bridge of stars?” you ask. “Or is that something people made up?”

“It represents Deneb. You can see it there”—the bamboo in his hands points westward—“forming a triangle with Zhinü and Niulang.”

You hum at the information, but otherwise stay quiet. When Dan Heng chances a look at you, he finds you contemplating the sky, staring intently at the Heavenly River.

Though you no longer seem upset, it bothers him that you aren’t glowing the way you’d been half an hour ago. You’d been so alive running with him beneath all the festival lanterns, looking for tanghulu. To an outsider, it might seem odd, how much it ruined your mood when you couldn’t find any—but Dan Heng knows that this isn’t about a simple craving for a candied fruit skewer.

This is about the Luofu.

This is about the food you'd tasted on the Luofu, the scenery you'd gazed upon on the Luofu, the festivals you'd observed on the Luofu—those are the things after which you’ve been chasing, not tanghulu. The ship was once your home, after all, and not a home that you’d willingly left. It’s obvious how much you long for it, what with the way you always ask to cook Xianzhou dishes and observe Xianzhou holidays.

Dan Heng puts an arm around your waist, pulling you against him.

"I'm sorry we couldn’t find you any tanghulu,” he murmurs. “Maybe Chang’E Moon Settlement will have some? I read that they have night markets regularly.”

“...it’s okay,” you say, in a voice clearly indicating the opposite. “I just thought it’d be nice to have at a festival, specifically… maybe we can head to Chang’E for the Lantern Festival.”

“That’s not a bad plan,” he says. “I’ve never celebrated the Lantern Festival.”

That makes you perk up. “Then I’ll have to make sure that Gege has a good time when February rolls around,” you say quite seriously. “I’ll do the trip planning next time—don’t worry about the hotels, or the travel itinerary, or the route to Chang’E—”

“I will plan the route,” he says decisively. “And I’m driving too.”

That makes you laugh. “Okay. You can do that. Ask for two weeks off from work, too. People on Chang’E take the Lantern Festival quite seriously, so—”

A familiar voice interrupts, calling out your names from a distance. You both look back and are met with the sight of Caelus and March running down the pier, waving at you. Caelus is holding what looks—and smells—like a container full of stinky tofu, while March has, in one of her hands—

“You found tanghulu?!” you exclaim. She nods excitedly as she bounces in front of you, two steps short of crashing into your bodies.

“Yeah! You were talking about wanting some earlier, right? So we grabbed one for you."

“I’ve got tofu too, if you'd like,” Caelus adds. March, shockingly, doesn’t berate him for the suggestion (Dan Heng considers it); she only points to it with a bewildered expression.

“It’s actually really good!” she insists. “You gotta hold your breath, but the flavour is great. You should both try it.”

“...I’ll take the tanghulu first,” Dan Heng says, rising from his seat to pluck the skewer out of March's hands. In a calculated move, he beckons you to stand and leads you away from March and Caelus—or, more specifically, away from the smell. While Dan Heng has no doubt that you’d like some of that tofu for yourself, you are predictably much more interested in a romantic moment with your boyfriend in a public space (your favourite type of situation in which to kiss him), so you happily wave goodbye to the pair.

When Dan Heng finally bites into the candied fruit—first cool and hard against his teeth, then sour and sweet on his tongue—he understands why you’d been disappointed with the strawberry tanghulu. It had been good, but it had also been different.

“How do you find it, Gege?” you ask, practically trembling with excitement. He feels his lip quirk.

“It’s good,” he praises. You smile, and Dan Heng finds himself thinking that none of the festival lanterns could ever compare to your expression. “Do you want some?”

“If you feed me,” you say, and Dan Heng rolls his eyes, but he humours you anyway, tilting the skewer toward you so that you can take a bite. The fruit colours your mouth red, and he watches as you hum and lick the sugar off your lips.

“Is it everything you’d hoped for?” he asks.

“Mhm. This is proper tanghulu.”

You seem content enough. You're eating, you're smiling—but something about your eyes bothers Dan Heng. Something about the muted quality of your voice. Something about the way you're studying the skewer in your hands.

Whatever bitterness was plaguing you earlier is still lingering, weighing down your words.

“I know,” Dan Heng says gently. He repeats himself: “But is it everything you’d hoped for?”

That makes you pause, blinking at him. Were you anyone else, Dan Heng is sure that you’d be mystified by the question—but you’re you, and you’re fairly attuned to the workings of his mind, and he’s reasonably discerning about whatever chaos is going on in yours. You have enough mutual understanding for you to stop and consider his question carefully, peering up at the sky.

Dan Heng waits patiently, watching Vega and Altair with you. Watching two stars longing for one another.

“...if it were up to me, Heng’er,” you eventually say, “I’d take you back to the Luofu, and we’d go sightseeing there. We’d visit the seaside town that I grew up in, and we’d go to the market I liked for breakfast food, and you…” You pause for a moment, struggling. “...and you could have met my Shifu. And you could have seen our home—how beautiful it once was. And I’d have taken you out for the Qixi Festival afterwards, and you could have seen the night sky there. Have I ever told you that it's the only stretch of stars I know how to navigate?"

The breath you let out is quiet, nearly drowned by the sighing tide. Dan Heng only hears it because he’s spent so often listening to the soft rhythm of your lungs.

“I wish I could have shown you all that,” you admit. “I’m sorry I can’t. I know you think about going back as much as I do.”

Dan Heng’s eyes soften. You allow his hands to cup your face, to shift it until he’s looking directly into the melancholy of your gaze.

“I don’t need to be on the Luofu,” he says quietly. “I am content to be here with you, I am content to live on the Express with you, and I am content to accompany you for as long as this lifetime will allow. And if you aren’t content with those things—then tell me what it is you long for, so that I can make you feel at home.”

You stare at him for a long while, bringing a hand to rest over the one on your cheek.

“Heng’er…”

“What is it?”

Dan Heng watches a number of emotions flicker through your eyes. He knows each of your microexpressions, because it is second nature for him to watch you carefully, with full attention to the state of your heart. He knows the way your brows lift when you’re surprised, he recognizes the specific quirk of your mouth when you try to stop it from trembling, and he notices the slow blink that you only do when you try to calm down. He knows, too, your instinctive response when you don’t know what to say:

You kiss him.

You kiss him, and it’s not the playful, fleeting sort of kiss that you use to tease him in public, nor is it the sweet and smiling sort that you drew him into earlier during the day, on this very dock. It’s long and deep, soft and tender against his lips, and he returns it fully.

After you pull back, you smile at him, looking more like yourself.

“That’s your second time kissing me in public today,” you comment. “What’s gotten into you, Heng’er?”

“Must be your bad influence,” he replies without a beat, running a thumb along your jawline.

“Oh?” You hum. “I’m not so sure. I think Fengyue-jun’s always been a little sentimental.”

Dan Heng snorts. “If I’m acting like it, then it’s only because you wanted a romantic evening.”

“I guess I did say that.” You link arms with him, pulling him back toward the festival. “Is our night going to be romantic too?”

“Our morning after as well,” he says. He feels his mouth curling at your excited little smile. “Would you like to spend more time here, or return to the hotel for your Qixi gift?”

“Whatever you feel like, Gege.” You press against him. "Just being by your side is enough to make me happy, no matter where it is you want to be.”

Dan Heng ends up choosing to stay at the harbour. It is partly because you’d seemed so keen on the tofu earlier, and he's a little curious about it himself—but it's mostly because he wants to see you in the glow of the festival for a little longer.

Dan Heng suspects that you feel that this night here, on Xinghan Station, is only a substitute for the life you've imagined having with him on the Luofu. Possibly it's inferior to it in every way. And he supposes that you might be right to think this way—that if ever he were given the chance to properly visit the world in which he was born, then he, too, might decide that Xinghan Station is nothing like it. That the lanterns hanging above the two of you right now pale in comparison to the Luofu stars. He can’t be certain.

But he is certain of this: that right now, Dan Heng has the privilege of hearing your laughter weave into festive song, of tasting sugar and berries on your lips, of seeing your smile awash in the light of the Heavenly River—

—and all of it is beautiful.

End

WE DID IT BOYS!! I am… too tired to do full cultural/translation notes but I'll try to hit the major ones 🫡

Translation Notes:

风月 (pronounced "Fengyue") literally means "wind, moon", but the characters taken together may actually mean "beautiful scenery", "romance", or "love making" depending on the context. When you call Dan Heng "Fengyue-jun 风月君", rather than "Yinyue-jun 饮月君", you're making a pun where you're calling him the Lord of Romance rather than the Lord who Drinks the Moon.

Gege is a term meaning "older brother", though it is often used for non-familial relationships that are very close. It has either a childish or flirty edge to it (Ge and Dage, also meaning older brother, are more common between friends).

Shifu means "Teacher", used in the context of a martial relationship. IIRC, Jing Yuan called Jingliu this.

Xinghan is one of the names for the Milky Way in Chinese, as an alternative to Heavenly River.

Chang'E is the name of an immortal who lives on the moon.

Cultural notes:

Qixi Festival is a real celebration that takes place on the seventh day of the seventh month on the Chinese lunar calendar. It is indeed based on the myth of the Cowherd and Weaver Girl. The version of the myth that I put into the story is a paraphrased version of the one I heard growing up, but there are many others. You may also recognise it as the myth of Orihime and Hikoboshi from the Japanese Tanabata festival.

I was researching different ways that people celebrate Qixi Festival around the world, and funnily enough, I actually found that (1) mostly people don't make a big deal of it anymore, and (2) it varies pretty largely between various diaspora communities. Maocity holds a night market festival where there are many foods that our Asian diaspora don't otherwise have the chance to eat (😔✌️), so that's the inspiration for the festival in this story. If you are Chinese elsewhere in the world, Qixi Festival celebrations may look different for you, and I want to acknowledge this in the notes.

There were some references to traditional Chinese wedding practices in this. Here is one video of a wedding procession and here is another (you can hear the suona in this one). Traditionally the palanquin is a "bridal sedan", but for my nblm and mlm readers, I want to note that usually whoever is marrying into the other person's household will ride it (in novels/fics I've read)—so you can imagine either yourself or Dan Heng in the palanquin

Also I couldn't fit this into the story, but I like to imagine that when you and Dan Heng get hitched, you do the tradition of racing each other to your house—but this is just the archives so you're literally just running down the Astral Express, fighting off Caelus and March and co LMAOO.

Thank you for reading! Please drop a line if you enjoyed this… truly I put my whole writerussy into this fic LMAOAO

tagging in @trailblazernet also!!

𝐚𝐥𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐦 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

once upon a time, you wished for alhaitham to love you back just as much as you loved him. that was years ago though; now as the acting grand scribe for the acting grand sage, you both were widely known for the hate you have for each other.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 love hate, unrequited love (or is it), angst, implied insecurity about physical appearance, slight nsfw, inspired from the fountain scene in atonement by ian mcewan. i suggest you watch you the video first so you can imagine how the scene would look like!

𝐰𝐜 2.5k

he finally found you.

the swaying grass crunched under the soles of his boots as he slowly and menacingly walked towards you with your back facing him, not aware of what was about to come. he was getting nearer now, and yet you still didn't turn around; it was either because you didn't hear him at all or because you didn't care about his presence. knowing you, the latter sounded more reasonable.

you were sitting on the grass, right beside the crystal clear waterfalls of chinvat ravine, legs crossed and hair tied to keep the strands from blocking your view, but the wind didn't spare you from its wrath. your locks swayed gently along with the breeze, flying and curling like the roots of the divine tree holding up the sanctuary of surasthana, exposing your bare neck to him. even with your long sleeved dress, you bathed in the golden sumeru sunlight, not caring about the heat at all.

though you weren't looking at him at all, alhaitham's heart stubbornly skipped a beat, its pace picking up the longer he stared at you. you looked so peaceful sitting in silence that he almost turned away and let you be in your own quiet world. or maybe he would just sit beside you if you'd allow him to, then the two of you would listen to the singing of the dusk birds together, along with the calming sound of the running water from the waterfalls.

in another time, he would like to spend his mornings, afternoons, and nights with you; but right now, as the acting grand sage of the akademiya, work was priority.

and so, despite not wanting it, alhaitham broke the silence. "if I may ask, what is the acting grand scribe doing here?"

he saw your body tense up, shoulders raising slightly. it took you a whole minute before you decided to glance at him over your shoulder. as he expected, your usually gentle eyes were already narrowed, ready to bite at him. your plump lips were pursed in annoyance, and it took every bit of his sanity to not lean in and swipe his thumb over it. your cheeks were already starting to turn into a shade of red that reminded him of zaytun peaches. it was probably because of anger, or irritation. or both.

beautiful, he thought.

"acting grand sage alhaitham." you greeted him calmly, as opposed to the emotions you had on display. "i can ask you the same question."

alhaitham crossed his arms and stared down blankly at you. "i have some files i need you to arrange, and they should be at my desk tomorrow morning."

without breaking off the eye contact, you blinked twice as if you were contemplating on what to say. then you shrugged, appearing not to care at all. "alright."

he couldn't help but to think that the old you wouldn't act this way. years ago, you would've nod slowly with a soft smile gracing your lips, a smile that was reserved just for him, and a pale pink hue would settle on top of your skin because you were too flustered to even speak a word to him.

but times have changed now. he should not be thinking about the past, for it will only hinder his progress in the present. but how could he not, when the only person he could blame for the reason for your change was himself?

alhaitham tried to hide his growing impatience, both for your stubbornness and your attitude towards him. he frowned and pressed on, "it seemed like you didn't understand. i am asking you to return to your office in the akademiya."

"you already wasted my time by searching for you. i spent a precious hour just walking around the city asking people if they somehow saw you when i could've spent that hour finishing the rest of my work. even katayoun didn't know where you are, so i had to find you myself." he continued, voice sounding more cross in each sentence.

you sighed, not affected by his rants. fully turning around, he saw a writing quill tucked in your ear and some papers stacked on your lap. you took one of the papers and showed it to him. "i'm checking some of the students' research proposals before i can submit them to you for approval."

"and you couldn't do that in your office?"

"unlike some of us, i can't concentrate on my work when i am locked up in an enclosed space." you quickly bit back, glaring at him. "working here is much better. i can breathe in some fresh air and watch the dusk birds if i'm feeling overwhelmed by the never-ending paperwork."

alhaitham thought of what you said and almost agreed with you. from where he was standing, he could see the bright blue sky, and not to mention, the entire view of the city.

but his pride didn't allow him to back down, just like always. he can tolerate you being mad at him and hating him with all your heart, but he can't stand it when you ignore him.

so he added fuel to the fire and lectured you, "while you're at it, do you have more complaints? don't hesitate to inform me if you lack materials or things that you will need. you have a high position in the akademiya now, so it is important for you to have your work done in a proper manner."

you rolled your eyes. "office rooms make me nauseous." you said straightforwardly.

that made him scrunch his eyebrows in both confusion and concern. "nauseous?"

"there's no windows." you grumbled under your breath. alhaitham inhaled sharply, finally understanding the situation. he made a mental note to speak with some of the matra later and make a request to transfer you to a new room. maybe even use some of his sage funds to buy new decorations just for you, so you wouldn't feel lonely and cramped inside your office.

while he was thinking, he noticed that you turned around once again, continuing to check the papers on your own. he watched you write, quick but your handwriting remained neat and pleasing to look at. this was one of the reasons why he chose you to become the scribe.

he wasn't satisfied with just watching you. alhaitham got closer and bent down with one knee. striking up a conversation again, he began, "let me see what you're working on."

you flinched at the sudden close proximity. he noticed it, and he tried to stop himself from smirking.

your grip on your quill tightened. with gritted teeth, you told him, "i'm not yet finished. please be patient."

alhaitham peered at you innocently, making you glower even more at his unaffected state. "i just want to check if you're doing it correctly." he simply said.

"i told you it's not yet finished. and what do you mean by correctly? i can manage just fine on my own!" you defended, now starting to raise your voice. while you were distracted, he took the opportunity to take the paper you were writing on.

you yelped and protested, "hey! stop!"

he lifted up his arm so you wouldn't be able to reach it, looking down on you with a strange glint in his beautiful turquoise eyes. seething in anger, you slightly sat up and pressed a hand on his chest in a rough manner to hoist yourself up without losing balance. you tried to ignore the feeling of his defined muscles against your palm as you tried to snatch the paper from him.

alhaitham froze. for a moment, he thought he forgot how to breathe because of how close you were to him. he could see the flecks of light in your eyes, the number of your thick eyelashes, and the many imperfections on the surface of your skin, yet they looked soft to the touch. and your lips, your heavenly lips, were only inches away from his own. the way they were slightly parted made him think of how they would feel.

he lost all focus that the paper he was holding slipped away from his fingers. your jaw dropped in horror, gaze following the paper in the air as it slowly flew towards the river. you got off alhaitham and tried to chase after it, but you were unfortunately too late. the paper had already met the surface of the water, liquid seeping on its thin composition.

you looked at him in disbelief. "what have you done?"

alhaitham sighed, waving a hand. "don't fret too much. just take the printed copy and submit it to me." he said.

"i didn't print one." you quietly replied.

he turned to you and stared at you like you've grown two heads. "what?"

in a louder voice, you explained impatiently, "that's the original paper. i haven't printed a copy yet."

hearing your words, alhaitham felt a huge headache. it was a grave mistake not to keep a copy of the akademiya's files.

"this is why I told you to always duplicate important files immediately after you receive them from the students in case they are stolen, destroyed, or lost." he spoke carefully, trying to avoid getting frustrated. "these are their research papers, and i'm sure that as a former akademiya student, you know how much value those papers hold."

your hands formed into fists. "do not talk to me like that!" you weakly shouted.

one of his eyebrows raised in question. "like what? like an acting grand sage pointing out their scribe's mistake?"

to his surprise, you started tearing up. bright red then blossomed on your cheeks, signalling the chaos that was about to reach its boiling point.

"like a pompous ass who forced me to become the scribe!" you yelled, and the shrillness of your voice hurt his ears, but he continued listening anyway. "if you're so clever and oh so better than me, then why didn't you just be the grand sage and scribe at the same time? you just have to drag me into your shit so you could embarrass me in front of the mahamata!"

"to embarrass you is far from my—"

you pointed a finger at him in a threatening way, your eyes shooting daggers as sharp enough to kill him. "speak another word and i'll kick you so hard in your groin that your children wouldn't be able to have the same genes as you."

flabbergasted, alhaitham didn't dare utter another word. but when you started to unbutton your dress, he let out a sarcastic huff.

"the water is not safe." he said, trying to prevent you from wading through the fungi infested river. you ignored him and continued to undress.

you were about to pull down the upper part of your dress when you glanced at him, mouth open as if you were going to say something. he held your gaze, waiting for your retort. however, nothing came, and you only scowled at him while you finally slipped out of your dress, the clothing falling down to your feet.

he knew it was improper to stare. he wanted to look away, to give you respect and privacy and also because it was the right thing to do, but he can't he can't he can't—

the lacy camisole you were wearing underneath the dress clung tight to your body. your bra straps were visible, and because the camisole's length can only reach the middle of your exposed thighs, he can almost see your underwear. you were half naked right in front of him, but you didn't seem to care. why didn't you care?

ah, alhaitham thought, realization dawning upon him as you carefully walked towards the river and tested the temperature of the water first before taking a dive. you became nothing but a colorful blur under the aquamarine waters.

it was quiet for a moment. everything was quiet, until a distant memory flashed in his mind.

"you don't pass my aesthetic preferences and ideals for a partner. i consider both character and appearance when it comes to choosing a significant other, should that day ever come." he explained quickly, trying to get out of this awkward situation. more students were gathering around them, and that was the thing he despised the most: attention.

it became even worse when your lower lip started to tremble. just how pathetic can you be? confessing your feelings in the middle of a public place, the feelings that grew within you just by working on a single project together. you brought this to yourself. this was all your fault to begin with.

"are you saying i'm ugly?" you whispered, shaky voice sounding upset.

his gaze on you remained impassive."i wouldn't use that term. that's too harsh, don't you think? i'd say...you're just not physically attractive, that's all.

"i'm not planning to consider you as my partner in a romantic relationship, today and in the near future. so i advise you to stay away from me to save yourself from the humiliation. have a nice day."

a loud splash interrupted his thoughts.

when you emerged from the water, your hands were clutching the soggy piece of paper, grip gentle as to not rip it off. damp pieces of hair framed your face, and the camisole, now transparent, hugged your wet form. he could see the swell of your breasts, your pert nipples slightly peeking, along with the endearing curve of your waist. your jaw was clenched, due to the cold or your hostility towards him; he doesn't know.

heat went straight to his groin. alhaitham swallowed a lump in his throat and clenched his fist. you walked past him, not meeting his eye, and picked up your dress from the ground. you dressed hastily, your wet strands drenching your clothing in the process.

after you buttoned up, you turned your head sideways, finally acknowledging his presence but not making eye contact.

"i never wanted to be the acting grand scribe." you said, voice calm once again. "still, i apologize. i, who does not have a single clue about being a scribe because i'm only a librarian, apologize for not knowing what this job entails. but for just one day, can you please stop reminding me that i'm not as intelligent as you?"

he stayed quiet.

"have a nice day, acting grand sage." were your last words before you left him there standing dumbly on the grass. he can only watch as you walked away from him, hair swaying across your shoulders with each step you take. when you disappeared from his sight, he looked back at the water, the roiling surface yet to recover from its tranquillity, almost like you left some of your fury in it. alhaitham placed a hand flat on its surface, thinking about how the water touched your body mere moments ago, its calming arms caressing every inch of your skin. he doesn't want to feel jealous, but that he felt.

it has happened, much to his dread. you, who is possibly the only woman who can ever love someone like him, no longer have feelings for him. it was to be expected, but how can he live on when the only constant thing in his life finally left him for good?

alhaitham can only dip his hand in the water. it was the only closest thing to you that he could touch.

office worker scara

another one because he's all i can ever think about at this point. akademiya zandik is just such a cutie

dottore drabble x2 - "habits"

zandik has a few noticeable traits that have slowly begun to appear more and more the longer your relationship progresses. and they surprise you every single time.

there's one where he'd break his pens and pencils whenever he's too caught up in his thoughts. the ink would splash all over his desk and his files, and he'd be cursing under his breath at the ink splatter on his clothes and all over his face.

the first time you found him walking out of his room with a hand that was completely black and dripping with ink, throwing away a handful of wasted papers and files in the garbage bin, you had made a mental note to watch over him whenever he wrote. to buy him multiple pens and pencils whenever you were out. and distract him, ease him, whenever he's about to break another one, just to spare him from the annoyance it brings.

today, you discovered a new habit you never knew he had.

it was one of those rare days when zandik allows himself to take a break.. to close his eyes and sleep in one of the most comfortable places known to man; your loving arms.

and he sleeps. when he does, he sleeps like a dead man. he's sprawled all over on top of you and his face is completely buried onto your neck. you worry if he could breathe, but you could feel his hot breath against your skin. you can't help but giggle.

it's been a while since zandik has slept, so you let him, protecting him from anything that may wake him up and humming soft lullabies whenever he starts shifting awake.

you adored him so much whenever he slept. he'd snore so softly that you could barely hear it, and sometimes, he'd even drool. sometimes he'd soak your shirt when he sleeps atop of you, but it was a small price to pay for a decent night of sleep for zandik.

while you were playing with his hair, out of nowhere, you felt a small jab of pain onto the skin of your neck. you held back a yelp, not wanting to wake zandik, but you pulled yourself back from him. only for his arms to tighten around you, pulling himself closer to your body and nipping at your skin, sharp teeth digging into your neck.

thankfully, he never tried to bite you too hard. only soft, playful nibbles while he slept. you were torn between thinking it was absolutely adorable or hilarious.

grinning ear to ear, you let him nip and practically drool on your neck, slowly being pulled into a deep slumber that the weight of his chest rising and falling in rhythm with yours.

you knew if you told him about it, he would deny it, accusing you of making stuff up while his face reddens. but you'd see zandik's satisfied look on his face whenever he saw the slightly purple marks on your neck. you didn't bother covering them up, and he seems delighted.

zandik totally stopped biting you from that day onwards. from your shoulders, collarbones, and fingers, he'd even bite your cheeks if he was feeling playful enough.

now, he can't seem to go on a whole day without seeing a visible bite mark on your skin.

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛❛ If you like this a lot, consider reblogging! I'll appreciate it very very much! Don't repost and/or translate my work anywhere. ❜❜ ┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌