kafkaeya

[kafkaeya]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: 原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Neuvillette/Wriothesley (Genshin Impact) Characters: Neuvillette (Genshin Impact), Wriothesley (Genshin Impact) Additional Tags: Strangers to Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Fortress of Meropide (Genshin Impact), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, lowkey neuvillette has a touch of the tism, it is needed, Wriolette - Freeform, no beta we die like my gacha luck, Angst, Angst and Tragedy Summary:

"the icebergs glimmer in the artificial light of the fortress foyer, and I swear... I have seen this man somewhere before"

neuvillette is the iudex of fontaine, tasked with bringing a murderer to justice. wriothesley is the duke of the fortress of meropide, who knows the full story of why the murderer felt the need to kill.

neuvillette is immortal, destined to live a thousand lifetimes; wriothesley is confined to only living once.

the old fontainian idiom goes as follows: "opposites attract"

[kafkaeya]

chained - part three

character: wriothesley

request: Wriothesley x Prisoner reader 😏This kind of enemies or poles opposing each other, but in secret they love each other but do not dare to confess because of their pride or status, I like to imagine the tense and charged atmosphere they make together.

tw: restraints (reader is chained in solitary confinement)

an: final part! (more of an epilogue tbh im sorry)

“you’ve been… quiet,” wriothesley said, breaking a heavy silence that had fallen over the two of you upon your return to his office. his tone was light, but his gaze suggested otherwise.

“i’m fine,” you replied softly.

“it’s funny how things turn out, isn’t it?” he smirked, rising to his full height – now towering over you as you remained seated.

choosing not to probe him for further insight, you merely nodded and stood up yourself.

wriothesley approached you, taking in the sight of you for the first time since capturing the smugglers. “your neck… the bleeding stopped. good.”

you placed a finger to the sharp sting of the cut, before echoing, “good.”

a, for once, comfortable silence fell.

“you didn’t have to help me…” you continued. “you could have just let them do what they want.”

“no,” wriothesley stated, as if it were obvious. “i couldn’t.”

his hand brushed against your arm, with hesitance – as if unsure. regardless, it made your breath hitch and a slight blush hit your cheeks.

“tell me to stop…” he said softly, his voice low, like silk, dangerous, “and i will.”

you couldn’t bring yourself to speak.

the hesitation lingered for only a moment longer before his lips found yours, firm, unyielding, tempted by yours. it was not a gentle kiss in the slightest, rather it was like the dam in his mind had shattered and released everything he had ever kept to himself. before you could think, your hands were fisting the front of his coat, pulling him closer to you.

the world around you faded, the circumstances, the smugglers, the stone-cold walls surrounding you. it was just you, and him, and the heat forming between the two of you.

when he pulled away, he leant his forehead against yours.

“you’re still… infuriating,” you panted.

“oh i know, pup.”

one of your fists tightened; he chuckled.

despite the hollowness the words felt in your throat, you still uttered that, “this changes nothing”.

“no,” he agreed. “it doesn’t.”

but, oh, it did. it changed… everything.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“you don’t trust me to find my way back to my own cell?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder as wriothesley followed you.

“i trust you,” he retorted, “but that doesn’t mean you’re walking alone.”

you stopped mid-step, turning to face him. the corridor, save for the two of you, was empty, the moonlight filtering through the narrow windows of the fortress, and falling onto wriothesley’s face – illuminating his already-piercing eyes.

“you’re impossible.”

“i know.”

in that moment, you reached for him – not a care in the world as to who could see – and pulled him down into a kiss that was more akin to a collision: messy, desperate. his hands fixated on your waist, steadying you.

“you’re…” wriothesley spoke between kisses. “infuriating too.”

“i know,” you mimicked him.

“we should keep walking.”

you fell into a comfortable rhythm until you reached your cell, the four walls waiting – a reminder of the reality you faced.

wriothesley unlocked the door, but instead of immediately opening it as per usual, he turned to face you.

“goodnight.”

your eyebrows furrowed. “affection doesn’t suit you.”

“suit yourself.”

he practically shoved you inside your cell, locking the door behind you.

you laughed, turning around to face him. “goodnight, duke.”

the lock clicked into place.

[kafkaeya]

hiya! could you make a song fic for kavetham (rom) w the song good luck babe where kaveh is the one in denial? (btw ur writing is brilliant and very nice! you are an excellent author ^^)

uploaded!! hope you enjoy :))

[kafkaeya]

next to her, in the middle of the night

characters: kaveh ft. alhaitham

request: hiya! could you make a song fic for kavetham (rom) w the song good luck babe where kaveh is the one in denial? (btw ur writing is brilliant and very nice! you are an excellent author ^^)

tw: none (just sad kavetham angst)

an: thank you so much first of all :) i hope this is to your liking!!

kaveh prided himself on his concept of perspective, on the morality of man and the perception of tangible feelings. but this – this – was too great a dilemma for even the architect himself.

he did not like alhaitham. did not like him at all.

and yet…

it had been around ten years since their reconciliation, to some extent, in which kaveh found himself inhabiting the home of the scribe. it had been one year since kaveh moved out, to live with his new wife.

his wife was angelic, truly the most perfect woman in the world to kaveh, and yet… here he found himself realising that the perfect woman was incomparable to the perfect man.

he wanted to erase his entire existence, to make his life a fraction easier.

in this moment, alhaitham was not even doing anything; just standing there, looking as effortlessly composed as ever. his unreadable expression seemed designed to get under kaveh’s skin. kaveh scoffed, taking a longer sip of his wine.

it wasn’t like kaveh cared much for the way his broad shoulders and tense biceps caught the light of the lanterns above them; or for the way his quiet confidence commanded attention of those around him without even trying; or how his voice, low, smooth, steady, lingered in kaveh’s thoughts well after the conversations had ended.

no, kaveh did… not… care…

fuck.

fuck.

the room was quiet, save for the gentle rustle of the curtains and the light snoring of kaveh’s wife. the moonlight filtered through the exposed slats, casting pale and uneven stripes across the bed. five of them. kaveh counted twice.

now, he was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling as if it held the answers to all his questions, questions that were consuming every thought he was having this night.

turning his head slightly, he observed his wife as she slept: her chest was rising, falling, rising ever so delicately, like a smooth summer’s wave on a sandy shore; her hair was cascading over the pillow, enveloping the silk material in an embrace unique to her. she looked… peaceful, serene.

kaveh was anything but.

it was not her fault: she had done everything right in their relationship. she had loved him openly, freely, been there for him when he would fall, supported his dreams without a second thought, even when the bills were rising. she was the anchor in the tempest that was his life, and she had given him the life he had always wanted.

so why… why was something missing?

kaveh turned back onto his side, staring fixatedly at the wall ahead of him. even in the wall he saw alhaitham. he saw alhaitham in everything he saw. quiet guilt enveloped kaveh as he fixed his eyes shut, an attempt at surrender. how could he have been so blind? how could he have been so hopelessly naïve to it all?

kaveh’s life was an illusion. his wife lay trustingly beside him, yet he craved the presence of another in her place. and, once again, she had done nothing wrong. that was the worst part: he could blame her for none of this. he could not blame her for the hollowness of his life.

even with his eyes fixed shut, he could picture alhaitham’s voice, silky smooth, in his ears. his voice was infuriating prior, now it was… completely unbearable.

kaveh sat up in the bed now, careful enough for his wife to remain in slumber, and placed his head between his hands – silently begging for alhaitham to just shut up already.

“you’re too afraid to face the real you,” alhaitham was taunting. “you’d rather live in denial, a peaceful life with a peaceful wife, than admit that you really want me.”

kaveh was willing the tears prickling in the corners of his eyes to stay put, but it was futile. like his wife’s hair over the pillow, the tears cascaded down his face as he silently shook from his sobs.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered, almost like a mantra. “i’m sorry.”

and yet no apology could fix this; no amount of regret could rewrite the years he had spent running from the one thing he couldn’t admit: kaveh had always belonged somewhere else, with someone else.

[kafkaeya]

chained - part two

character: wriothesley

request: Wriothesley x Prisoner reader 😏This kind of enemies or poles opposing each other, but in secret they love each other but do not dare to confess because of their pride or status, I like to imagine the tense and charged atmosphere they make together.

tw: restraints (reader is chained in solitary confinement); minor injury and blood detail.

an: part two!! eee i love when enemies go "oh no im looking at you and don't entirely hate your guts" hehe. can confirm that there will be one more part/chapter!

the next few days blurred within the dim confines of the cell, measured only by the brief and infuriating interruptions of wriothesley’s presence, and the occasional sipping of tea. it was on the final day of your confinement, the day after the rather breezy risk assessment, that wriothesley slammed open your cell door, punched your cobble wall, and turned to you.

“hold out your hands,” he said, rattling a key in his pocket.

“why? chopping them off?” you taunted in retaliation.

“not the time. hold out your hands.”

even you knew when to quit, so you held out your hands rather rapidly once the imperative was used again. wriothesley unlocked your chains, and you both watched as they fell to the floor. your eyes then averted to his right hand, blood trickling from where he'd hit the wall.

“you’re a day early,” you stated the obvious, eyes still on his hand.

wriothesley knew of your fixation, but chose to avoid it. “i have a deal.”

you tilted your head, and for the first time finally got to sit on your bed. “what deal?”

“you help me; i help you.”

“i don’t need he—”

“shut up for one second. i need you to gather some information for me.”

“what kind of information?”

“i’m getting there. if you talk one more time, you’re back in the chains.”

you were… pretty silent for a while, while wriothesley was pacing in your cell explaining to you.

“you need to gather information for me, alongside me. today. there’s been a string of contraband smuggling, someone clearly using the lower levels of the prison – the production zones, most likely – to move goods. i need the following: who is leading the operation; who is responsible for moving the goods, as they are likely to be different people; how they are getting through my security systems, and what contraband they are moving specifically. if you can help me get me all of that, i’ll shave a few months, maybe a year, off your sentence. it depends on what you did: that kind of information, i’m not privy to.”

“i killed a shopkeeper.”

“so if you do—huh? a shopkeeper? you killed a shopkeeper?”

“long story. so you’re probably looking at getting me a few months less as opposed to a whole year.” despite your quick resignation to the fact that the benefits weren’t too positive in this scenario, the idea of a few extra months of freedom was too tantalising to ignore.

“explains solitary… anyway...” wriothesley shook his head, the mental image of you committing murder now painted in his mind eternally. “do we have a deal?”

you asked pretty promptly. “if i fail?”

“you die.”

a fatal pause.

“i’m joking. you just end up being hated by all the other prisoners for prying in their business.”

“you’re setting me up to be the laughing stock of the whole fortress.”

wriothesley smirked; you stood up, and approached him, your finger pointing aggressively in his face.

“i. hate. you.”

“do we have a deal?”

the two of you shook hands, and wriothesley headed for the cell door. the sudden feeling of freedom overwhelmed you, and it took his taunting, irritating voice to break your severance from reality: “you coming or not?”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

the lower levels of the prison were colder, darker, quieter than the rest of the fortress. the sounds of your’s and wriothesley’s footsteps echoed against the stone walls and floor, broken only by the occasional drip of musty water from somewhere overhead, out of view. the production zones were out of bounds at this time, all the other prisoners on the next levels up eating their dinners. you were trailing behind wriothesley, the tenuous and dubious nature of your relationship weighing you down just as much as the chains once did.

“okay back there?” wriothesley asked, without turning around. his tone was light, with a hint, as always, of teasing.

“sure. the ambiance is… rather pleasing,” you replied. your sardonic tone was not missed by wriothesley, who chuckled softly but did not respond. instead, he stopped at a heavy set of iron doors, leading down to a further level unknown to most of the prisoners.

“this is a suspected route; it runs to the entrance to the fortress – you know, the part you came in through?”

“i know what an entrance is.”

wriothesley laughed once more at your retort, then returned to a serious and morose tone. “no guards patrol this area, as it’s deemed unsafe—”

“you’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

“shut up. anyway, we’ll find some traces here, i’m sure.”

“you may call me your pup, duke, but i’m not a bloodhound.”

“oh i know, you already told me you weren’t one to roll over and obey.” wriothesley’s response to you was laced with annoyance – his aggravation still apparent from when you first made those remarks a few days prior.

without another word, he opened the doors.

it did not take long to find a trace of the contraband.

“there,” you said, pointing to a few scuff marks on the cobble floor: unnatural, caused by wood. “someone’s been moving stuff, by the looks of it.”

“good eye, pup.” wriothesley knelt down to inspect the area, fingers caressing the marks left behind in the stone. in his ring finger, he found himself with a splinter – a confirmation of the wooden item not permitted in this area. a box, of some kind, most likely. then, his fingers landed on an unnatural area of the cobble. “hey, help me with this. looks like a latch or a trap door.”

you knelt beside him, pressing your hands against the disjointed part of cobblestone. together, you pushed against the floor, the cobble suddenly falling to the bottom of a hidden tunnel.

“smart…” wriothesley commented to himself, before turning his attention back to you. “coming?”

you jumped down first, wriothesley chuckling before following you.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

the tunnel stretched on and on and on, twisting and turning and twisting some more like a series of vines in the forest. the two of you, yourself ahead of wriothesley, moved in silence. it was wriothesley who spoke first.

“you’re quiet. feels boring when you don’t make fun of me, or threaten me, or threaten me by making fun of me.”

“focusing,” your response was curt, frank, as you scanned the ground for any sign of a path already trodden.

silence once more, then a faint noise echoed in the tunnel. a sound of hurried, quick, frantic movement.

wriothesley straightened instantly, his right hand moving to your arm – gripping tight. “stay close.”

you muttered in response, “like i was planning on wandering off…”

“shut up.”

the two of you looked around, wriothesley’s grip tightening on your arm. it was not painful, quite frankly it was uncomfortable, yet you didn’t dare tell him to let go right now. then, you saw him – face to face, you stood looking at one of the smugglers in the eye.

his skin was pallid in the dark air of the tunnel. the smuggler stood tall, lean, but had enough muscle to protect himself. once his eyes locked on to yours, he realised he needed to run - and quickly.

wriothesley, feeling movement behind him, turned his body – now also looking on at the smuggler. dropping your arm, he surged forward, with movements that were fast, efficient, reflective of his skills as a boxer. you found yourself standing still, frozen to the spot as if unsure how to contribute – in fear of making the scenario much, much worse.

wriothesley hissed as he tackled the smuggler to the ground, pinning his arms with his hands, and the smuggler’s legs with his knees.

squirming, the smuggler soon relented – and allowed wriothesley to cuff him, fighting back deemed futile when against the duke.

panting, wriothesley spat, “you need to fess up. tell us who else is involved, why, what you’re moving… tell us everything.”

“wait…” you murmured, but wriothesley ignored you.

instead, he continued talking to the smuggler, taunting him, mocking him for being so careless. his words were methodical yet provoking, promising a longer sentence, a lifetime of work in the production zone, meals of bad luck for life.

"duke..." you whispered, once again ignored.

wriothesley ensured the cuffs were tight, restrictive, and continued to expose the carelessness of the smuggler, until he was interrupted.

“step. away.” a voice, unknown to wriothesley, rung out in the tunnel.

turning only his head, his body still facing the smuggler cuffed on the ground, wriothesley was standing face to face with a scene he did not anticipate nor consider the solution for.

a newcomer, a second smuggler seemingly, was standing beside you, with a dagger to your neck. the second smuggler was tall, imposing, with his face obscured by a hood and his body covered with a black cloak – akin to a reaper of some kind, or an abyss mage almost.

wriothesley’s grey eyes, normally pale and piercing, darkened.

“step away from deakin, and get out of here.” the figure commanded, a presence of authority rivalling that of the duke of the fortress of meropide.

“let them go,” wriothesley commanded back, taking a step towards the two of you.

“nobody is leaving here alive until you let deakin go,” the figure replied.

you chuckled, feeling the cold of the dagger’s blade at your neck. “kind of you to assume i’m a good bargaining chip.”

“shut up,” the figure hissed.

wriothesley’s fists clenched. “considering you’re outnumbered, i’d watch what you say to my prisoner.”

the figure dropped his boldness a mere moment to scan his surroundings, upon hearing wriothesley’s claim of being outnumbered. and it was then that the duke lunged, knocking the dagger aside to the cobble floor and tackling the figure to the ground.

you stumbled back against the wall when wriothesley bumped your body free, watching with your fingers to your neck as he hit the figure again, and again, and again…

“stop, stop!” you cried out, the figure bloodied and bruised on the ground. “you’ll kill him… please, stop.”

your hands wrapped around wriothesley’s shoulders, prying him off the unconscious body of the mysterious smuggler.

silence haunted the tunnel, until wriothesley turned to look at you – his voice, for the first time ever, was completely gentle, taunt-free. “are you… are you okay?” he asked, a delicacy to his tone.

“y-yeah.. i’m fine.”

“your neck… can i check?”

you nodded, humming as you lifted your head up. a simple, small graze left by the blade – nothing more.

“i’m sorry…” wriothesley murmured, his fingers brushing the blood off your skin.

you moved your head back down, gazing into wriothesley’s eyes as they returned to the piercing grey you had grown rather used to. “you didn’t cause that, so it’s fine.”

a fleeting glimpse into each other's eyes, a moment that passed by in slow-motion...

then, wriothesley’s bravado returned. “don’t expect me to save your neck – literally – next time.”

“i’ll save your neck and make it even,” you retorted, crossing your arms.

wriothesley tilted his head, a glimmer of something unreadable in his silvery eyes. “i’ll look forward to it.”

[kafkaeya]

as soon as i revived my musty dusty ao3 account the website went down sorry crew

[kafkaeya]

ao3 woah! go follow! wow! cool!

hiii! i have an ao3 account that collected dust for mad time that i thought i would upload my longer fics to, as well as some more shippy fics? (my main ships are kavetham and jeanluc tbh)

if that kind of thing interests you, pls go follow! so cool! wow!

[kafkaeya]

Wriothesley x Prisoner reader 😏This kind of enemies or poles opposing each other, but in secret they love each other but do not dare to confess because of their pride or status, I like to imagine the tense and charged atmosphere they make together.

part one is uploaded! <33

[kafkaeya]

chained - part one

character: wriothesley

request: Wriothesley x Prisoner reader 😏This kind of enemies or poles opposing each other, but in secret they love each other but do not dare to confess because of their pride or status, I like to imagine the tense and charged atmosphere they make together.

tw: restraints (reader is chained in solitary confinement)

an: this had to be multiple parts! enemies to loves can't be a one part job. so... i hope this tides you all over until part two <33

only the occasional clinking of your chains broke the prolonged silence, as you sat cross-legged on the floor. you had just met your fate: what seemed like eternity in the fortress of meropide, with the first week in solitary confinement until your risk assessment was completed. the floor was cold, cobblestone pinching your skin as you wriggled about in search of comfort, yet instead all the writhing did was make your muscles tense and your body ache.

wriothesley was standing on the other side of the iron bars of solitary confinement, sizing you up with his arms crossed.

“sulking, still?” he asked, voice smooth and conversational, almost taunting you – thus cutting you deeply, and completely rubbing you the wrong way.

you opted to stay silent, instead tilting your head with a wolfish curve to your lips. you had a thousand insults on the tip of your tongue, but for once your mind spoke sense to you: be silent; wait it out; don’t prolong your time in here.

“you know,” wriothesley continued, leaning on the hatch to your cell with arms either side of the window, “i’ve been doing this job long enough to know the difference between relenting and stubbornness. you aren’t relenting, are you?”

once again, you thought silence was wise.

“how… irritating. here i was, hoping you’d provide some entertainment.”

“sorry to disappoint,” you finally spoke up. “i’m actually rather boring.”

“you’re not boring,” he retorted, “in fact, i find you rather infuriating. infuriating is never boring.”

“i’m flattered.”

wriothesley turned around, facing the guard in charge of observing you for the duration of your stay in solitary. “bring my finest cups, and the tea on the top shelf.”

the guard departed, leaving the two of you alone.

“it’s rare i offer tea to a prisoner here,” wriothesley turned his attention back to you. “would you like some?”

“let me guess: you’ve put some kind of sleeping potion in there, to bore you by sending me to sleep.”

“never. i daren’t taint my beloved rare leaves with any nonsense like that. it is good, old-fashioned tea. rooibos. caffeine-free, so it won’t wake you up, and supposedly good for your cholesterol – although i never factor that into the enjoyment aspect.”

you tilt your head, leaning back against the wall – as best you can, with the chains keeping you to the floor. “you some kind of expert?”

“if you consider this expert knowledge, then sure.”

“how sad.”

“says the one in solitary.”

your chains rattle as he grinds your metaphorical gears. “how i wish i could punch your stupid little face.”

wriothesley shrugged, “you’ll get your chance to do that next week, little one.”

the endearment on the end was bitter, full of distaste and resentment – like a green tea.

the guard brought in two cups of tea, filled to the brim with leaves and hot water. the leaves were in a strainer, confined like yourself, yet their flavour oozing into the white china cups. wriothesley opened your cell door, and placed one cup down right beside you. then, he took his taunting one step further – by sitting in the bed you could not reach and sipping his tea idly to himself.

“you’re getting too close to the wolf’s den,” you gibe in return.

“i’ve never been afraid of wolves, although… right now, i’m looking at a pup.”

the urge to pour his piping-hot tea all over his smarmy face was high, yet you opted to do the right thing – however tedious – and you sipped the tea as tidily as you could.

“thoughts?”

“tastes like… dodgy water.” you replied.

“hmm…”

a moment’s silence passed by the two of you.

wriothesley looked on at you while you sipped your tea, despite your prior comment. “i reckon all this rage, this anger, is a front. one big act, like a pantomime.”

you scoffed, “you don’t know me, duke.”

“i will, pup.”

he sipped his tea, finishing the cup, before repeating, “i will”.

you, too, finished your tea. he picked up the cup without hesitation, and walked straight for the cell door.

“i will check in on you tomorrow. no, there is no sleeping potion in the tea, yet it is the caffeine-free teas that make you the weariest. sleep well, on the cobblestone.”

and with that, the cell door slammed.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

it was safe to say that wriothesley’s tone was a lot more casual, somehow, the following day. his demeanour was calmer, shoulders drooped and wrists clicking in his hands as he popped his bones.

“did you sleep well?” he asked, already anticipating your answer.

you spit back, “what do you think?”

“that’s what i thought… although, you look better than yesterday. still miserable, but better. i'll put it down to the tea”

you scoffed, rattling your chains, “miserable? yes. furious? also, yes.”

“oh, i anticipated that too. those in solitary are not entitled to meals from the cafeteria, however i thought i would be generous – as it’s your first full day, and all.”

at that, your stomach rumbled – fresh bread, jam, and butter greeting you as the cell door opened once more. wriothesley, like with the tea, placed the box of food in front of you – and sat down on your bed. his legs were spread, his elbows resting on his knees and one hand propping up his head as he watched you try to butter your bread.

“here,” he said, moving to kneel down in front of you. “i’ll take pity on you and do it myself.”

without waiting for a reply, wriothesley picked up the valberry jam and the butter, and started spreading them over your bread. then, his taunting nature returning: he picked up the bread, folded it in two, and moved it towards your face.

“open wide.”

you spat on the ground.

“fine, no food for you at all.”

reluctantly, you opened your mouth. smirking, wriothesley fed you the bread. it took a few moments for one of you to speak again: it was him, once again in jest.

“thank you so much, duke. your kindness is so—"

you cut him off. “go rot.”

“how stubborn.”

“better than rolling over, obeying, and thanking you like a good little pup.”

wriothesley’s smirk evaporated. “you think this is about me wanting you to obey?”

a tilt of your head once more. “i think this is about a power trip.”

wriothesley stood up, kicking the empty food box away. “power trip…”

then, he lifted your chain, rattling it with passion and aggravation. “you think i like my prisoners in here? in chains? with no free will, no autonomy? you think i get off on this?”

all you did was nod.

wriothesley scoffed, and abandoned your cell until the next day.

[kafkaeya]

Hi :D Please can I request Kaveh reacting to a crying Reader, and when he asks her what's wrong she can't even answer because she's sobbing too hard🙏

hi !! all posted <33 hope you enjoy :)

[kafkaeya]

uncontrollable

character: kaveh

request: Hi :D Please can I request Kaveh reacting to a crying Reader, and when he asks her what's wrong she can't even answer because she's sobbing too hard🙏

tw: none (aside from crying i guess?)

an: inactivity is over woo! i am working on other requests, they will just take longer than this one!

it had been twenty minutes since kaveh returned home, and all he could do was sit and wait. prepared to give all the time in the world, he knew that you needed a moment to compose yourself - and so he waited. he owed you that much, after all, and then some.

"just let it out when you're ready..." he said. kaveh knew all too well what it was like to be broken, and he knew that the patience of his friends got him through the roughest of patches. "when you're ready."

you nodded, frantically sniffling to calm yourself down.

"no, no, time." he said. "give it time, love."

it was a further ten minutes until he felt he could inquire, asking: "so, what happened?"

when you went to open your mouth to speak, the sobs returned - your cries loud and guttural. pained by your sudden return to torment, kaveh opted to just stand up and approach you.

"blink twice if you need a hug. blink three times if you need to be alone."

once.

twice.

pause.

he wrapped his arms around you in an instant, whispering consolations into your ear.

[kafkaeya]

hi friends. firstly thank you so much for all the love on my posts! completely overwhelming ㅠ.ㅠ

i’m sorry for the short bout of inactivity; i’ve been working on requests in silence for a bit, but also work has been CHAOTIC.

[kafkaeya]

🪽

[kafkaeya]

Thanks for all the Kaveh and Sethos food Hoyo 🤲

[kafkaeya]

the rain

characters: alhaitham / kaveh

requests: open

tw: none

an: inspired by that one viral tweet. i just want kaveh to give in to his impulses more often.

it was rare for rain to hit sumeru the way it had today. the roofs were clattering loudly as the drops hit the slates, the paths flooded and difficult to walk upon.

alhaitham and kaveh were travelling along such a path, the puddles and new-formed currents proving a difficulty to traverse in their current attire.

kaveh stopped, complaining that there was no way around a certain area - for alhaitham “has longer legs than me!”

“stop whining and just move already,” alhaitham protested, before pausing himself and looking up at the rain. “it’s not stopping anytime soon, so just hurry up.”

kaveh went to object, but relented. however, instead of moving forward, he opened his mouth, tilted his head to the sky, and held his tongue out to collect the droplets aiming for his face.

it was rare for alhaitham to be stunned into such silence.

when kaveh had finished lapping up some rainwater, he pressed on.

“what? i was thirsty?”

[kafkaeya]

is this anything

[kafkaeya]

forgot that tumblr existed.. here’s my recent doodle (kind of) ❤️❤️