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Ok but like. What the fuck is there to do on the internet anymore?
Idk when I was younger, you could just go and go and find exciting new websites full of whatever cool things you wanted to explore. An overabundance of ways to occupy your time online.
Now, it’s just… Social media. That’s it. Social media and news sites. And I’m tired of social media and I’m tired of the news.
Am I just like completely inept at finding new things or has the internet just fallen apart that much with the problems of SEO and web 3.0 turning everything into a same-site prison?
ALSO you should consider browsing Virtual Pet List and seeing if there are any pet sites you might be interested in playing. There is a whole genre of browser games right under your nose
Another one that I just found recently is this, which is a whole collection of blogs, organized by topic!
“You’re going to miss out on all this media because of the strikes!”
Y'all shot a whole-ass Batgirl movie and refused to release it so you could get a tax break, constantly cancel popular shows after a single season, and remove stuff from streaming while refusing to sell it on physical media, so maybe shut the fuck up.
I hope every major studio and streaming service crashes, all your executives end up permanently unemployed, and that all we’re left with is indie media produced by people who can see beyond the dollar sign.
BTW for anyone too lazy to do the math a wage of $125 a day works out to about $15/hour for an 8-hour workday so….. someone in 1923 definitely had a vision of the future
Summary: The Akasha introduced Sumeru to soulmates, many believed it and even you… yet you can’t help but wonder if you and the scribe of the Academia, Al Haitham, were meant for each other.
Warnings/tags: Yandere themes, Fem!reader, manipulation of information, soulmate au
It was shocking when the information about soulmates where given by the Akasha.
When you heard the news of what a soulmate was from the device on your ear you stared at your tea, unable to move as you wondered how the Akasha would match you to your soulmate.
Almost everybody looked happy when they found their soulmates, when their personalities match that it was almost like a click. Like they found a puzzle piece.
Yet you weren’t so sure of yourself as you were reminded of the man who was supposed to be your soulmate. The scribe of the Academia, Al Haitham.
You meet the man a few times, when he was researching something out of the city you bumped into him in your travels to collect herbs and plants a few times. He was a straightforward man and in your mind, cold. You guys just didn’t match. Not in your personalities nor your professions, when you worked hard but just enough money to feed yourself and keep a roof above your head while he was a man who had a high rank in the Academia.
You never liked him much, never really understood him. His stares felt like they were drilling holes into you, judging you and your worth.
You tried to avoid him whenever you could.
You thought that he wouldn’t care about such things as soulmates, that something like that would be a shackle to him. That he would ignore the whole thing together. You thought that was the end of your soulmate experience and you weren’t sad really you were relieved that was the case.
You didn’t think you would see him as you head out of your home to tend to your small farm. Sitting outside your home reading a book just as you opened the door. You were quick to muffle your voice unable to hold your surprise shout yet somehow conscious enough to realize that it was still early in the morning to cause a ruckus.
He looked at you with an eyebrow raised oddly looking at you as if wondering if you were okay in the head.
seeing everyone just mindlessly sign up for threads despite all the clear warning signs feels like I’m living in Sailor Moon or a magical girl anime episode where the Monster of the Day just set up shop over night and their product is literally draining your lifeforce for the Dark Kingdom but people keep going there
found the artist’s name in the notes and went looking because this slaps (it’s called A Place Where I’ll Dance) and its not even their best song. check this shit out:
febris amatoria. // yandere! alhaitham x gn! reader
SUMMARY : you, the eldest child of a wealthy family, become rather infamous in your pursuits of avoiding your arranged marriages like the plague, much to your family’s chagrin. with suitors running dry and the prospects of riches and marriage becoming farther and farther away, your desperate parents immediately promise you to a scribe from the distant lands of sumeru once offered their weight in gold. to you, it’s merely another game of cat and mouse. to him, its an opportunity to make you his – forever. you cannot escape him this time. or, in other words; a scholar with an erudite appetite defying gods will stop at nothing to satiate his hunger for you.
DISCLAIMERS : gender neutral reader. yandere. manipulation. slight profanity. implied stalking. obsessive & toxic relationships. noncon kissing. alhaitham kinda ooc i made him too evil
NOTES : hey yeah i’m still alive and still writing wooo!! wrote this because i was feeling sad and horny and also for my friend, i hope you enjoy this @kazuhrs <3 this was actually supposed to be a royalty/nobility au but it kinda got messed up while writing so it’s not anymore haha. it’s also more soft yandere than anything but whatever…anyways happy reading i will emerge from the darkness again soon <3
Alhaitham loathes power.
It corrupts – it bleeds men dry, sucks their souls of all they are worth. It makes people greedy, wanting for more than what they already own, spurring them to claw and scratch for greater rewards like rabid dogs although a life of relative comfort awaits them. Power offers less than what it takes, grants more suffering than privilege, and rots at the brains of fools who seek nothing but venal avarice.
And yet despite everything that he despises about it, he is grateful that it offered him a chance to get closer to you.
Your parents are rendered blind to the world around them; their eyes mercifully plucked out by circling vultures of fortune and prosperity. They don’t know what it’s like to be part of the common man, to work manual labor in a smithy or a tailoring shop, to break their backs over the most trivial of circumstances for low pay and poor conditions. They see what they want to see, and when they look at him, they see an opportunity carved from gold and riches.
Wealth. He may be a simple scribe, but he holds the key to cupidity’s heart – the key to your family’s heart. To them, he is a valuable business expenditure, and you are a mere pawn used to claim it. Out of your four siblings, only one was able to marry for love; the rest were reduced to pieces on a chess board, items traded off for a significantly more expensive purpose. Your younger sister, Karlotta, was recently married to a prominent figure of Mondstadt’s trading industry after your arrangement with him fell through.
He was lucky you were so stubborn. You were a driven individual; fiercely independent with a taste for failed arranged marriages and infamy among the upper class’ close-knit circles. They say that you’re cursed, doomed to be alone forever, unable to find love even with the most eligible and prolific unmarried candidates. Alhaitham prefers it that way. It makes it ever so easy to simply snatch you up into his arms.
Socializing is a tiring game, so he often retreats into the deepest folds of Sumeru’s libraries to mull over his thoughts and study. But lately, his mind hasn’t been busy in the pursuit of knowledge – it’s been busy in the pursuit of you. You occupied the hidden enclaves of his mind, so annoyingly frustrating yet intriguingly beautiful, teasing him with that pretty, pretty smile and fairy-like laughter.
You were bewitching in the rain. The cloud’s tears ran down your figure in rivulets, marking your skin with transparent dewdrops and a paradisiacal mist. Yet such an ugly expression marred your face as you kicked at puddles in evening wear, thoroughly ignoring the pleading cries of a woman not too far behind. He’d watched you, seething with a bubbling rage, stomping your fancy shoes into the cobbled ground with an intense vigor absent from many other individuals.
That was the beginning of his fall. That was the beginning of his obsession with you.
He knew everything about you. He knew your habits (you liked your tea with two cubes of sugar and you always wrote in your journal half past six), your hobbies (pressing flowers, fencing, drinking with that twin braided friend on Sundays), your likes and dislikes (botanicals, scrapbooking, sparring. You don’t like celery, being late, and your multiple arranged marriages). He knew all your siblings (Gratia, Johann, Diedrich, Karlotta), your nervous tics (your hands shake and you bite the inside of your cheek), and your favorite perfume (floral, with undertones of cinnamon and liquor).
But even with your entire being memorized and etched into his soul, his erudite mind still craved for more. It hungered for something other than the little scraps of information he provided it. It hungered for something more permanent, something more enduring and lasting and so wholly there. It hungered for your soft skin, your gentle touch, your pretty eyes fixated on him and him only just like how he’d been completely plagued by thoughts of you.
Alhaitham was, first and foremost, a man of knowledge. But as you sat in front of him uncomfortably, stiff and ready to flee at any opportunity, a part of him wanted you more than any knowledge available in the world.
Your lips were pulled thin, already tired of the charade you had to play. “Good evening. You’re Alhaitham, I presume? The affluent scribe from Sumeru. My mother has already explained to me the details of our potential marriage, so I’d like to cut to the chase. I’m not interested in marrying you, and I’m sure that you aren’t either. How much are you willing to settle with?”
A ghost of a smile coasted over his countenance. So eager to run away. So eager to escape. He couldn’t have that, could he? “None.”
You looked up from the cheque book in your hands, the patent leather outside worn from frequent use and, most likely, bribes to convince your suitors to leave. Surprise colored your normally resolute features. “What? What do you mean none?”
“I live a comfortable life. I have no need for any material wealth.” His answer was short, sweet. Blunt and to the point, just how you wanted it to be.
You chewed the inside of your cheek. “Well then…can I do anything to dissuade you? Help you change your mind? Marrying me will be a mistake-”
“No.” His answer was adamant as a serious expression found its way onto his face. “I’m not asking for your hand for the sake of money, nor am I interested in your family’s wealth. I want you, [Name]. There is no incentive greater than yourself.”
You paused for a moment, letting his words sink into your psyche. He didn’t address you by your title. A brash but interestingly bold move. You broke out into a brief fit of sharp, derisive laughter. “I’ve been told that many times before, scribe Alhaitham. You’ll have to try harder than that. May I show you the exit?”
You rose from your position on the parlor’s velvet couch, fully intending to lead him to the exit before you felt yourself falling. The world blurred around you in a whirl of golden candlelight and decadent crimson as the back of your head slammed against the rigid backing with a conclusive, final thump. Your vision swayed. You blinked, once, twice, thrice. He was on top of you – arms pinned to your sides, caging you in with his broad shoulders and built body. His breathing was measured, equal, as if everything was going to plan, in direct contrast to your panicked intakes of air.
His eyes bore into your own. They were a medley of vibrance, all teal and canary yellow like a uncut piece of turquoise, with flecks of iridescence and scarlet flickering within its sea green depths. His lips were pressed into a thin line, a calm sobriety weighing heavily on his brow. “I assure you, I try my hardest. I am patient. I work tirelessly and I work endlessly. I have never failed to reach the standards I set, and I don’t think I ever will.”
He chuckled. It was breathy, soft like downy feathers and gossamer wings, brushing against your face in a gentle zephyr of spearmint and sticky, wanting warmth. The back of his hand, dyed ink black by the fabric of his thin glove, caressed your skin as if you were the finest porcelain the world had to offer. “But you, [Name]…you make my patience wear thin. I am willing to sacrifice anything if it means that I can have you.”
You’ve danced this familiar jaunt with the devil multiple times, and you’ve managed to escape the dangerous, all-consuming romp again and again and again. Yet a seed of fear had managed to worm its way into your brain as you processed the scribe’s words, thick with an emotion you refused to acknowledge in sheer worry of your predicament.
Possessiveness. Stronger than you’d ever seen before. You ran your tongue over the ridges of your teeth, the smell of peril permeating lightly in the air.
“We’ve never met. What are you insinuating with those words?”
Alhaitham’s thumb slowly traced a line down your jaw and over your chin, until it reached the soft underbelly of your throat. It was all so gentle – yet there was a part of you that couldn’t shake the looming feeling of danger that seemed keen on devouring you whole. “I know everything about you. Your entire life has been ingrained into my mind, but I can’t help but want for more. What do you feel like? What do you taste like?”
The way his fingers slid down your neck like water felt like an execution – a noose tied around your throat, ready to hang you by your windpipe until the breath of vitality came pouring from your body. Your hands shook. He pressed his forehead against your own, sclera swirling with a mania so intense that it felt like they were burning into your skull.
His hands dragged down your body until they reached your waist. His grip hurt. You could already imagine the bruises forming; blotchy spots of blue and violet marring your skin with the reminder of an obsessive hold. They would fade, but your regret would fester.
“…What do you want?” You hissed out through clenched teeth.
He did not smile. “Haven’t I told you already? [Name], I want you.”
And then he captured your lips with his.
They were soft. So painfully soft for a man who spoke words that cut like glass and were rife with the tribulations of knowledge. You felt him part his lips momentarily, seemingly asking for your permission to deepen the kiss, before teasing your tongue with his own.
You never wanted for much. As the eldest child of a noble family, you were expected to sacrifice everything – for your siblings, for your parents, for the benefit of everyone but yourself. Maybe that was why you were so calculating, so stubborn and fiery with a passion and confidence you could barely hold within the confines of your body. Maybe that was why you fought so hard for what remaining freedom you had left, about to slip through your fingers in this marriage of convenience.
But as his lips touched yours, you wondered if it was okay to be selfish just this once. Wherever his touch roamed, you felt it burn, just like the passionate kiss that pierced into the very fabric of your being. A mix of indignation, horror and lust muddled your brain from thinking rationally as you leaned into him, the taste of sin lingering poignantly in your mouth.
Your action emboldened Alhaitham. His free hand tilted your chin upwards as he pressed harder against your lips, his crisp and fresh taste mixing with his cologne as it unmercifully invaded your senses.
The loss of air was beginning to get to your head. It was so passionate, so deep with yearning and ardor that it almost convinced you to let yourself give in. But you couldn’t. You wouldn’t.
You managed to break free. Your lips felt bruised and broken as short, clipped pants escaped your mouth, your lungs gratefully welcoming the oxygen that flooded to your head. As your world spun with dizziness and desire, you watched him pull away hesitantly, feeling his gaze rake over your flushed expression, tinged with the slightest influx of disgruntled vexation. It came to a rest on your lips and stayed there as a bastardized version of a smirk twitched at the corners of his mouth, seemingly satisfied with his handiwork.
“Fuck you.” You spat, anger beginning to torch the edges of your vision bright red like molten metal.
His seafoam eyes seemed to glow underneath the dim lighting as he yanked you closer, bringing the two of you flush against each other’s chests. His breath felt hot and heavy on your skin as he gripped your chin once again, forcing you to look him in the eye.
You did not see a man in those stalwart irises – you saw a monster. A monster that was left starving for far too long, and you unluckily happened to be the most delicious meal within its vicinity.
A rough, animalistic growl pinched at his handsome features as he vocalized his next words. “Kiss me again.”
Within his painful, controlling grasp, you came to the realization that escape was impossible. To him, you were but a dove given too much freedom – and with a mere flick of his wrist, Alhaitham could easily clip your pretty white wings.
Just like he did now. Just like he would continue to do.
art credits go to : egggg233333 on twt
please do not plagiarize off of my work in any shape or form. if you steal my writing i will hunt you down mark my words
Notes: After the events of 3.5 patch. It is after Tighnari and Cyno visit Mondstadt for Windblume. If you want to be tagged in the story, please DM me or let me know in the comments below for the latest chapter!!! I had so much fun writing this chapter BTW. And I am so thankful for the support and love you guys have been showing this fic. THIS wasn’t an easy chapter to write. I kinda love and hate myself for it :| I apologize to y'all in advance.
Trigger warnings: Angst, anxiety, academic expulsion, death, murder, blood, violence, experimentation, prison, toxic relationships, sabotage, smut, panic attack, mental trauma, institutionalization, depression (will add more as the story proceeds)
You find yourself in a vast library with shelves towering high above you, filled with books of every size and color. You wander through the aisles, running your fingers over the spines of the books, feeling their stories and knowledge beckoning to you.
You stop in front of a shelf, trying to reach for a book that seems just out of your grasp. Suddenly, you feel a warm breath on your neck, and a strong arm reaches around you, easily plucking the book from its place.
You turn around to find Al Haitham standing behind you, a mischievous grin on his lips. Your heart races as he steps closer, his body trapping you between him and the bookshelf. His scent envelops you, a mix of sandalwood and freshly cut grass.
it was past eleven in the morning when suddenly a scholar that alhaitham isn’t familiar with, much less remember his name or face, notified him that you, his precious wife who is an adventurer, is back in sumeru.
the important paperwork he is working on is done at the speed of light that the scholar in his temporary office gapes in shock like he has grown three heads but he paid him no mind and moves the pile of papers to the side and leaves the room, blatantly ignoring the shouts of his secretary and the scholars that greeted him as he passes by.
he arrived in front of his house, stopping. on the other side of this door, he knew you were there. he can hear your melodious laughter inside and alhaitham feels his heart pump in nervousness, his throat dry and his lips chapped. taking a deep breath, he entered and was greeted by a horrifying scene that his eyes had laid upon.
in your lap is lesser lord kusanali, happily eating the dessert that you are feeding her with a fork. your giggles and the dendro archon’s filled the silence as you don’t take notice of your husband in the doorway with his shoulders tensed, continuing to softly poke the chubby cheeks of the five-hundred-year-old girl.
“y/n..?”
only did you perk up at the sound of his voice and smile brightly at him. alhaitham watched in horror as you carried the little white-haired god in your arms and wrapped your other arm to bend him down as you greeted him with a kiss on his cheeks, “haitham! welcome home.”
but alhaitham stood still, unable to reciprocate your enthusiastic energy as it was replaced by shock, emerald eyes staring at large green ones as he addressed the elephant in the room. “y/n, that child..”
“oh.” you blink and your smile remains as you introduce the girl, unsuspect of the recognition in your husband’s eyes to the god of wisdom. with giddiness in your voice that he can’t say no to, “meet this adorable plumpy smart child, haitham. her name is nahida and i’m planning to adopt her as our kid.”
