love them? maybe I did, darl.

and then, the world goes silent.

[kinbedo]

Miracles ablaze, dying with hope—

—Surrender your fate into my hands.

​🇪​​🇱​​🇮​ ♡

ɪɴᴛᴘ 6ᴡ5

ᴀɴʏ ᴘʀᴏɴᴏᴜɴꜱ! (ᴘʀᴇꜰᴇʀʀᴇᴅ: ᴛʜᴇʏ/ᴛʜᴇᴍ)

18+

ʀᴜʟᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʙʏꜰ

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

​ᴛᴀɢꜱ

Affiliated with DISTRICT99 !! @d1strict99

​🇩​​🇳​​🇮​ ​🇮​​🇫​ ​🇾​​🇴​​🇺​ ​🇫​​🇮​​🇹​ ​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇧​​🇦​​🇸​​🇮​​🇨​ ​🇩​​🇳​​🇮​ ​🇨​​🇷​​🇮​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇮​​🇦​

@kinbedo

previous url: xiaomainlmao

Are you hesitating, darling?

[kinbedo]

helllo.

opinions on sandrones mid design.

I haven't looked at leaks enough to say exactly how much they've changed it, but it looks alright. I wouldn't really call it 'mid', just that some changes might be a little unnecessary. I'm not sure how her story will explain the design change (if it can, at all), but all we can do is wait at this point.

Her back half looks fine, it's really just the front that bothered me. I don't have a problem with short skirts, I just didn't like that they made Sandrone's skirt short because her original dress was iconic.

That's all. I'm not thinking of much until her quest is out or forming too many opinions before seeing the real, official thing in-game.

[kinbedo]

Coming back from the dead to scream.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[kinbedo]

Accidental Indulgement - Ashveil

—  ♡

Summary: You were drinking coffee at a cafe when he randomly comes and sits across from you, and now you’re being dragged into… a crime case???

Cw: Light-hearted banter

Tw: uncomfortable flirting, mentions of trafficking, blood (tbf, if you're an hsr player, this is nothing 💀 adding them just in case)

(yes, I separated the two different kinds of warnings because it was funny to me)

wc: 2.5k, gn reader

Tagging: @amorsial hihi Mila

“Uhh who even are you?” You ask for the fourth time since he sat in the chair opposite yours. 

You’ve gotten three different answers so far.

“Oh, just someone-something, you know?”

“Just a passerby who is very interested in what those two over there have going on.”

“Shh, just watch.”

And now, the fourth answer, “Just treat me like I’m an old friend. Don’t sweat it.”

Like the previous three times, he uses that same, silky tone, his head resting in his palms as he pretends to be looking at you, while his eyes keep darting to the couple that’s whispering loudly and frantically. 

Behind you, a lady dressed in black, with sunglasses and a weirdly fashioned hat keeps sighing every few seconds. She has a newspaper in her hand, but she hasn’t flipped the page since she sat there, so you’re almost certain that she hasn’t even tried reading the news for her to be sighing at that.

Why are there weirdos everywhere around you today… 

“Sir, the problem with that is that I don’t even know your name. I might have to call the police if you try anything funny.” 

“Oh is that the issue? That’s no problem at all! The name’s Ashveil and uh if you need the police, just let me know. I’ll be happy to assist or I could introduce you to someone that came here with me today.”

What?

You squint at him, as if that would help you identify whether he was being serious or not. Slumping back into your seat, you take a few more sips of the coffee you had ordered, not taking your eyes off the man in front of you.

“They are leaving.” He stands up abruptly. “Did they mention they were going to some place for uhm, couples?”

You take the last few sips of your coffee, watching his movements and glaring at him when he starts eyeing you. 

“You look very ordinary.” 

“Excuse me?”

“It’s perfect. Come on, you’re going to be my partner.” 

“Huh?” You don’t bother trying to hide the disdain in your voice as he grabs your wrist and starts running towards the door. You get a few odd looks from the people around you, but no one bothers too much.

And though you are trying to resist, it’s evident that you aren’t actually serious about it. Maybe it’s curiosity — to find out more about this man and the couple he was following. Risky, sure, but what’s life without a little thrill? This ‘Ashveil’ doesn’t seem to be a bad person, in any case.

“Why are you stalking them?”

“I’m not stalking them, I’m trailing them.”

“Those two terms are similar enough.”

“Are not! ‘Stalking’ makes me sound like some creep, while ‘trailing’ makes it clear that I’m undercover.”

“‘Undercover’?”

“I’m a detective and I’m on a case. Do you truly not recognise me? At all?”

“I’m afraid not, Mr. Ashveil. I have, thankfully, never required a detective’s assistance.”

“Looks like you’ll be assisting a detective instead. Fate’s funny, isn’t it?”

“Who said I was going to ‘assist’ you with anything?”

“You just need to stand beside me. You can zone-out and daydream or whatever if you wish to. Don’t worry, I won’t let anything hurt you. Oh, or would you like remuneration to convince you?”

“No need. All I need to do is stand, right? I get to watch a detective solve a case in real life. That’s an exciting offer, much like being in a comic.” 

“Yeahh,” he drags the word out, “you might realise that it’s not as exciting as fiction stories make it appear.”

Ashveil mutters to himself along the way, but it’s difficult to make out what he’s saying. All you understand is something about him wanting to sleep again as soon as possible. And something about a refrigerator, for some reason.

He stops in front of a building. Music echoes from the inside, making the place seem lively even during work hours.

“A bar? Mr. Ashveil I’ll have you know that I have no intention of drinking—”

“Neither of us are drinking anything. Just stay close to me, and if someone tries bothering you, tell them you came here with your boyfriend.” 

“And who is this ‘boyfriend’ that I came here with?” 

“Me, for the time-being at least.”

Your eye twitches in response, attempting to not let your red ears be too obvious. The nerve this guy has.

As if on cue, a girl approaches the two of you, eyes sweetly scanning Ashveil. Judging from the school uniform she is wearing, she was probably skipping school to hang out here.

“Hey there, babes. I couldn’t help but notice that you were looking troubled by this person.” She puckers her lips and places a hand on her waist, angling to one side, trying to look more appealing perhaps.

“Don’t worry about us. We were just discussing which drink we should get first.” 

“If you want a drink, perhaps I could buy you one? Consider it a small ‘offering’ for a taste of something more?” You tense up in discomfort. Is this girl really skipping school just to flirt with guys at the bar? 

“No thanks. I think schoolgirls like you are better off diligently attending your classes than wasting your time here in the middle of the day.” The detective deadpans without hesitation.

“Is that what you are into? Ruining naive-looking nerds?”

“I’m definitely not into you, I can guarantee that.” Ashveil crosses his arms, huffing in annoyance. The girl clicks her tongue and leaves.

“She is clearly underage to be here, especially alone. Shouldn’t we alert someone?” You ask, watching the girl’s back disappear into the crowd.

“Miss Kuchiba has been keeping an eye. She’ll probably take over that part.”

‘Kuchiba’...? That name sounds familiar.

Before you have the time to properly recall where you have heard that name, Ashveil drags you deeper into the bar and towards a door for staff members. He nods at the person standing guard at the door, and the person nods back.

“As per the orders we received, we lured them in here. There’s three of them — a man who came first and then a couple who followed a few minutes later. We couldn’t check if they had weapons though, so be careful.”

“Thank you. Miss Kuchiba is here as well. If there’s any trouble, she can contact me directly.”

As the door closes behind you, the music from the bar fades into the background. The corridors are dark and murky, unlike the lively atmosphere outside. It makes you wonder if the renowned Fool’s Tavern also has a dark side, like this bar?

“Kuchiba really knows how to get the right people on the job, eh? I didn’t expect that she’d find such capable helpers for this case. That includes me, of course.” 

You want to ask who Miss Kuchiba is and why her name was so familiar to you, when a sharp, clattering sound erupts at the end of the corridor.

“That child you brought me last time couldn’t understand a thing.” A gruff, male voice roars. “How do you think our clients would like that? Huh?! HUH?!” Another clattering sound follows, like a ceramic piece or a wine bottle being thrown onto the ground. A shiver runs down your spine.

“Stay calm, breathe. You don’t have to say anything, okay?” Ashveil tries to soothe you. He’s standing taller than earlier, his insouciant persona from moments ago fading into seriousness. “Just don’t let them see that you are scared. I’ll handle the rest.”

You try your best to stand straight and keep your chin up, silently following behind him with the most neutral expression you can muster. Ashveil takes the lead, his body gestures are still pretty airy, not giving away his seriousness and attentiveness to the situation.

“We were told some really nice people were taking care of our kids. Am I finally having the honour to meet these ‘caretakers’?” He says, sounding almost genuine if not for the sarcasm oozing behind each word, each syllable. 

You follow Ashveil as he enters the room. There’s a shattered bottle of wine on the floor, and the couple from the cafe are kneeling down, the woman clutching her feet as the man leans over her protectively. Blood pools on the ground, seeping through her palms, and purpling wounds are evident on the man’s skin. It sends another shiver down your spine.

A man stands in the centre of the room, face flushed with anger and alcohol and fists clenched and raised.

“And who are you?”

“Just someone here to retrieve a few children. They’ve been out wayyy past dinner time, and their parents are worried sick.”

“Is that so? And is that person with you here to join you on your righteous mission?” The brash man spat, his patience clearly reaching the end of its limits.

“That, and to be a witness that will make it even easier to apprehend you.”

“Kid, you’re still a rookie, ain’tcha? Telling me your motives without me even pressing. Let me teach ya a little something, not like you’ll be able to apply it because you’ll be dead after this.”

“You’re welcome to try, if you’d like. I doubt that a person who can’t even take care of kids would be able to ‘take care’ of me.”

Your legs shake, but you don’t dare run. 

You have seen the news. The missing children. The grieving families. The fearful parents.

You realise the weight of the situation, and you sincerely hope that Detective Ashveil completes this task successfully, for the sake of the children. It helps you strengthen your resolve to see this through, even if it’s terrifying to be in this situation. How do law enforcers even handle this tension?

“You…” the woman on the ground spoke, her voice strained, “You saw us at that cafe, didn’t you? You were eavesdropping, weren’t you?”

“No I didn’t—” You try to protest, because truthfully, you were trying to ignore them and go about your day until you got dragged here by Ashveil, but the lady wasn’t going to listen.

“I saw you, you were staring at us. Those useless fools couldn’t stop you from following us here, huh?”

You don’t even know what to say. Your lips quiver as the lady’s gaze pierces through you, until broad shoulders block your vision. 

“I am the one doing the talking. If you have an issue, raise it with me.” Ashveil’s voice sounds even deeper than earlier, his tone laced with unsaid warnings.

“I’ve had enough of this circus.” The standing man growls, clearly intending to get aggressive. You take two steps back, standing close to the doorframe but not leaving the room, carefully following the man’s actions.

He picks up the broken leg of a chair, aiming straight for the detective’s head when the loud bang of a gunshot cuts through the heaving and panting of the people in the room, whizzing past the man’s ear and knocking him unconscious from shock and exertion. The couple leaning on the ground scurry into a corner, too shaken up to resist.

“Mr. Ashveil, please do not drag innocent civilians into such cases so casually. If anything dire had occurred, the consequences would have been far too severe.” A gentle, but authoritative voice speaks. At the entrance, a lady dressed in black and holding a gun puts a hand on her hip. It’s the same, eccentric woman from the cafe.

“Miss Kuchiba, you are finally here.” Ashveil breaths out a heavy sigh of relief, a light chuckle gracing his tone.  “Relax, I’m not too shabby in a fight. I wasn’t going to let them get hurt.”

You glance over her until you spot her badge. So that’s why her name was familiar. She’s an Officer from the Department of Aberration Defense, and is said to be one of the most capable of their members. 

“Physical well-being is not the only thing that you need to be concerned about in these cases, Detective.” 

“Oh right, right. I was so focused on catching the criminals in the act that I forgot about that part.” He says it so casually, you’re almost certain that it’s a lie. From just this experience alone, you could tell that he knows and thinks a lot more than he lets on.

“It’s rather unlike you to make such mistakes.” Kuchiba also seems to share your opinion.

“Ehh just couldn’t stop thinking of an old friend who wouldn’t allow kids to be mistreated this way.” He takes his hat off, holding it against his chest, a sad smile of reminiscence playing on his lips. 

“Was that the reason you were so willing to take up this task?”

“The detective pretends to think, as if he wasn't already sure of the answer,” a monkey pops up beside the window, “the main reason was that he was desperate for the pay.”

“Mr. N!! What awful timing. Couldn't you have saved me some face?”

The monkey ignores the detective’s comment and instead assumes a more serious demeanor as it says, “The people who were following you have been dealt with. I led them into a corner and had Miss Kuchiba’s people take care of them.”

“People who were following you?...” Kuchiba questions, eyeing Ashveil. 

“Yes, after I sat down in front of them in the cafe, I noticed a few shady people who wouldn’t stop staring at us. They probably noticed me trailing the couple. And to answer your question about me dragging an ‘innocent civilian’...”

Ashveil looks at you, apologetic, “I feared that by sitting with you at the cafe, I had put you at risk of being attacked if I left you alone. So I brought you along and asked you to put up an act with me so I could personally ensure your safety.”

“I probably was going to alert the local authorities about them,” you admit in a small voice, “they did seem suspicious to me but I never would have expected it to be this serious. Had you not been there, I… I don’t know how it would have gone.”

Ashveil opens his arms, inviting you and you abide, feeling your nerves relax as he gently rubs circles on your arm.

“You are being surprisingly too nice, Ashveil.” Mister N states.

“Not the time, Mr. N.”

“I’ll take my leave for now, there’s still work to be wrapped up.” Kuchiba interrupted, “Detective Ashveil, please ensure they get home safely.”

“I will.”

Kuchiba calls in her team, who help take the criminals away. Ashveil, followed by Mister N, leads you out of the bar. He takes in a deep breath as soon as he is out in the open, relishing another case closed successfully.

You have also completely calmed down now, the adrenaline from earlier wearing off. With the earlier fear gone, you can’t help but feel curious about the detective, wanting to learn more about his work.

You want to hear his stories, want to understand how he works, want to feel that gentle warmth of his that brought you comfort multiple times during today’s endeavour one more time (or maybe a couple more times). 

You want to learn just a little more about him.

So you ask, “What’s next for you?”

“I would like to make it up to you. What would you like in return for today’s, uhm, little ‘adventure’? A cup of coffee that you can enjoy without any interruptions this time?” 

“Would you join me?”

“Only if you want me to.”

When he is saying that so sweetly, how could you possibly decline?

[kinbedo]

Falling asleep while waiting for them to finish their work

ft. Albedo, Chiori, Dan Heng, Herta

Angsty undertones because of slight negligence, but it's mostly just domestic fluff <3

wc: ~500 each

A/n: No one asked but I started writing this with Herta's part. First time writing for hsr and of course it starts with Herta. I love her so much it's not even a joke 😭😭. Then came Dan Heng, then Chiori because I've been dying for Chiori for ages (have 170+ wishes and her best supports waiting for her), and then Albedo because my 2021 Albedo obsession era apparently never ended.

Albedo

You creak open the door to Albedo's office, watching his back as he moves around the room with measured steps.

Despite having returned from Dragonspine for a few days, your lover seemed as busy as ever, practically being glued to his office in the knight's headquarters.

Thankfully, you were able to put Klee to sleep. The little elf had insisted on wanting to stay awake and wait for her brother, but a few bedtime stories were all it took to have her fall asleep in your lap. After tucking her in, you had decided to visit Albedo to check in on him, hoping to be able to take him with you to slumber.

But seeing how invested he looked in whatever he was currently doing, you debated against it.

The door closes with a soft creak. You lean against the wall next to the door and sigh, unsure of how to approach the alchemist and convince him to take a break.

At this point, this has to be called over-working, you worry.

You slowly slide yourself to rest on the ground, head propped against the wall as drowsiness starts clouding your eyes. 

You could try waiting for him. You want to wait for him. 

Surely you won’t fall asleep here, right?

You trace the carvings on the wall with your eyes and listen carefully for the soft footsteps of the knights on night duty. The serene atmosphere of the Favonius Headquarters at night only makes your drowsiness worse, like being in a comfortable cot, being lulled to sleep.

Despite how quiet your actions have been, Albedo hears them loud and clear. He heard the soft creak of the door, and he hears the soft thud of you landing on the ground. A frown makes its way onto his face, curious about what you are doing here so late at night.

He wraps his work up as quickly as he can, settling the books on the side of his table and aligning and tucking the papers under weights.

When he steps outside, he finds you with your back against the wall, sound asleep.

Both fondness and guilt crash over him at once, as he realises that you were waiting for him. He kneels down, a hand over his knee and the other caressing your face.

He uses his index to press your cheek, but you don't even stir. He sighs, realising that he would have to carry you back. He has never been the strongest person, always needing an extra hand to carry his boxes around, but Albedo is always willing to make an extra effort for you.

So he presses a soft kiss to your forehead and then hooks his arms under your body, lifting you up and letting your head rest against his chest.

He smiles fondly at the sight of you in his arms, and then starts heading out and towards your home, determined to wake up in your arms the next morning.

Chiori

You neatly fold the fabrics and pat out the dresses on the mannequins. It’s almost completely dark and quiet outside now, with only the street-lamps illuminating Fontaine’s streets.

Chiori still seems busy working on a dress, and from the looks of it, she won’t be taking a break any time soon.

“Chio…”

“I know what you’re going to say. And yes, I will come sleep. Just after finishing a few more bits. I want to finish this dress by tomorrow afternoon, so that I can make any adjustments and have it ready for the event by the day after.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard, alright? Let me know if I can help in any way.”

She hums, eyes still fixated on the dress she is working on. 

A few minutes turn into multiple. You keep going back and forth between the boutique’s main area and the backrooms, watching your lover engrossed in her work.

With how resolute she looks about finishing the dress tonight, rather than by tomorrow as she earlier mentioned, you doubt that she’s getting any sleep, let alone going back home to rest.

For nights like these, Chiori had already prepared a make-shift bed to sleep in, just so it would be more convenient for her to immediately get back to work in the morning. From what you understand, she often spent her nights in the boutique before you got both together. Having you waiting for her is what helped her control her workaholic nature and return home for respite.

How she maintained her health with the way she over-works herself is beyond you.

The least you could do is support her — by bringing her coffee the way she likes it or by checking in on her and by reaffirming her when she needs it.

 And perhaps by adding a few more layers of clothes to make her make-shift bed more comfortable. Instead of heading home alone, you decide you stay with her in the boutique, even if it means spending the entire night there. 

Chiori reaches out to the bottle of water on her side desk, expecting it to be half-empty only to find it completely filled. That’s what finally breaks her focus, as she settles her needles down and turns the bottle around in her hand. Did you fill it for her…?

She looks out of the shop’s window and is met with the darkness of the night enveloping Fontaine. When did it get this late?

Chiori quickly puts away the needles and threads, leaving them in a spot comfortable enough for her to immediately pick her work up again in the morning. She heads to the door only to realise that it was locked from the inside. 

It could only mean one thing, she thinks to herself, that you haven’t left.

So she heads to the backrooms and finds you there, sleeping comfortably on the make-shift bed, with ample space left for her to fit into. It makes her eyes soften with adoration but chest tighten with the guilt of having ignored you because of work.

Quietly but swiftly, she undoes her hair, letting the intricately made braids fall loosely around her shoulders. Dimming the lights and changing into lighter clothing, she slips onto the mattress, trying not to wake you.

You stir in your sleep, partly aware of your lover’s presence, as you let her crawl into your arms and snuggle against your chest.

“Chio…” you mumble.

“I’m here.”

“Mmm…” 

You’re still here. Despite how her workaholic tendencies keep her away. Despite her often sharp-tongue due to her straight-forward nature. Despite the rumours her competitors try to spread to stir the market.

You are still here, and she couldn't be more grateful for that.

Dan Heng

The archives room is quiet, except for the soft buzz of the monitor and the clicking of the keyboard.

It feels colder tonight too. Normally, you would rely on Dan Heng's body heat to beat the cold, but with him still filing archives, all you can do is tug his hoodie closer and watch the back of his chair as he works.

Dan Heng might not be the warmest person you know (in terms of body heat, at least), but to you, his slightly cold skin mixed with his warm embrace is the heavenliest thing in the cosmos. 

"Are you done yet..."

"Sorry love, I'll be there soon."

"Mmm."

You don't really mind it. He prefers finishing his work before time, hating backlogs. And in turn, that helps him plan more of his time with you.

But sometimes, you really do wish that he would cut himself a little slack and indulge in more temporary pleasures (such as immediately cuddling with you to sleep, because your cravings are making tonight feel extra cold and you need him beside you pronto).

The sound of inconsistent sighs being replaced by steady breathing catches Dan Heng’s attention. “Love?” He looks in your direction to realise that you have fallen asleep, with your body still facing him.

He glances between the digital clock on his system and your limp body, realising that it’s been longer than he realised. 

Oh.

He quickly closes the system, not even bothering to arrange the files neatly as he slips in beside you. “You shouldn’t have let me get away with it…” He mutters, feeling guilty for having left you waiting.

“Mmm…Heng…” you mumble something in your sleep as you snuggle closer to him, subconsciously moving towards his neutral, but comforting scent. 

Dan Heng helps you get into a comfortable position, resting his hand on your waist and watching as you bury your head in his chest. You’re clingier when asleep and he adores that.

“Work can wait, but not these moments with you. I’ll try to be more careful next time. I’m sorry.” He’s sure that you couldn’t hear a word he was saying, that he was just talking to the air. But he still mentally notes to himself to keep a closer eye on the time and to not let you fall asleep waiting for him. 

And to apologise properly in the morning, probably by spending some quality time together. Maybe a date would be nice? It’s been a while since the two of you spent a tranquil day out together. 

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead and rests his head in the crook of your neck. 

Work may be never-ending, but he can handle it — no, he will handle it. Anything, to ensure that he isn’t neglecting your needs, his needs. 

Anything, to ensure that he isn’t neglecting you.

Herta

You're not sure what caught her eye or suddenly piqued her interest this late at night. One moment, you were pulling the blanket over her as she got into bed with you, the next she was rushing towards her pile of blueprints as she quickly scribbled out whatever came to her mind.

You stare at her, confused and amused, a small smile playing at your lips. You push yourself back and rest against the bed's headboard, watching Herta get in the zone.

"Got new ideas?"

"Yes! You're a genius, my love. Well, of course you have to be at least a quarter as good as me since you're my partner. This just might give me my next big break in the development of the Divergent Universe. Haha Screwy better watch out, because I'm taking this one from him!" She quickly rattles out, her hand not stopping once as she pulls out two new pages and dips her quill in the ink bottle again.

You are not sure what you said for her to credit you like this, but this isn't the first time this has happened. You decide against asking her about it though, lest she ends up getting distracted and takes even longer to return to your shared bed.

"Do you want me to wait for you?"

"Your wish honestly, I'm not sure how long this will take but I promise you that I'll join you as soon as I'm done."

You hum, deciding to stay awake for as long as you can. You grab a book, opting to read it to keep you engaged while you wait.

By the time Herta has finished her work, you are fast asleep, with the book you were reading lying flat on your chest.

She stretches her arms and sighs contently at the sight, though with a small pang of guilt for having kept you waiting for so long.

Carefully, so as to not awake you, she plucks the book away from your chest and replaces it with her head, snuggling closer. "Sorry to keep you waiting, dear." She whispers, before letting slumber claim her for the night.

To others, she seems apathetic and self-centred. And that isn't entirely wrong but when it comes to you? There's a side to her that she wouldn't dare show anyone else. Not because she's ashamed of it, but because she thinks that you are the only one who deserves to know her more domestic sides. <3

[kinbedo]

Accidental Indulgement - Ashveil

—  ♡

Summary: You were drinking coffee at a cafe when he randomly comes and sits across from you, and now you’re being dragged into… a crime case???

Cw: Light-hearted banter

Tw: uncomfortable flirting, mentions of trafficking, blood (tbf, if you're an hsr player, this is nothing 💀 adding them just in case)

(yes, I separated the two different kinds of warnings because it was funny to me)

wc: 2.5k, gn reader

Tagging: @amorsial hihi Mila

“Uhh who even are you?” You ask for the fourth time since he sat in the chair opposite yours. 

You’ve gotten three different answers so far.

“Oh, just someone-something, you know?”

“Just a passerby who is very interested in what those two over there have going on.”

“Shh, just watch.”

And now, the fourth answer, “Just treat me like I’m an old friend. Don’t sweat it.”

Like the previous three times, he uses that same, silky tone, his head resting in his palms as he pretends to be looking at you, while his eyes keep darting to the couple that’s whispering loudly and frantically. 

Behind you, a lady dressed in black, with sunglasses and a weirdly fashioned hat keeps sighing every few seconds. She has a newspaper in her hand, but she hasn’t flipped the page since she sat there, so you’re almost certain that she hasn’t even tried reading the news for her to be sighing at that.

Why are there weirdos everywhere around you today… 

“Sir, the problem with that is that I don’t even know your name. I might have to call the police if you try anything funny.” 

“Oh is that the issue? That’s no problem at all! The name’s Ashveil and uh if you need the police, just let me know. I’ll be happy to assist or I could introduce you to someone that came here with me today.”

What?

You squint at him, as if that would help you identify whether he was being serious or not. Slumping back into your seat, you take a few more sips of the coffee you had ordered, not taking your eyes off the man in front of you.

“They are leaving.” He stands up abruptly. “Did they mention they were going to some place for uhm, couples?”

You take the last few sips of your coffee, watching his movements and glaring at him when he starts eyeing you. 

“You look very ordinary.” 

“Excuse me?”

“It’s perfect. Come on, you’re going to be my partner.” 

“Huh?” You don’t bother trying to hide the disdain in your voice as he grabs your wrist and starts running towards the door. You get a few odd looks from the people around you, but no one bothers too much.

And though you are trying to resist, it’s evident that you aren’t actually serious about it. Maybe it’s curiosity — to find out more about this man and the couple he was following. Risky, sure, but what’s life without a little thrill? This ‘Ashveil’ doesn’t seem to be a bad person, in any case.

“Why are you stalking them?”

“I’m not stalking them, I’m trailing them.”

“Those two terms are similar enough.”

“Are not! ‘Stalking’ makes me sound like some creep, while ‘trailing’ makes it clear that I’m undercover.”

“‘Undercover’?”

“I’m a detective and I’m on a case. Do you truly not recognise me? At all?”

“I’m afraid not, Mr. Ashveil. I have, thankfully, never required a detective’s assistance.”

“Looks like you’ll be assisting a detective instead. Fate’s funny, isn’t it?”

“Who said I was going to ‘assist’ you with anything?”

“You just need to stand beside me. You can zone-out and daydream or whatever if you wish to. Don’t worry, I won’t let anything hurt you. Oh, or would you like remuneration to convince you?”

“No need. All I need to do is stand, right? I get to watch a detective solve a case in real life. That’s an exciting offer, much like being in a comic.” 

“Yeahh,” he drags the word out, “you might realise that it’s not as exciting as fiction stories make it appear.”

Ashveil mutters to himself along the way, but it’s difficult to make out what he’s saying. All you understand is something about him wanting to sleep again as soon as possible. And something about a refrigerator, for some reason.

He stops in front of a building. Music echoes from the inside, making the place seem lively even during work hours.

“A bar? Mr. Ashveil I’ll have you know that I have no intention of drinking—”

“Neither of us are drinking anything. Just stay close to me, and if someone tries bothering you, tell them you came here with your boyfriend.” 

“And who is this ‘boyfriend’ that I came here with?” 

“Me, for the time-being at least.”

Your eye twitches in response, attempting to not let your red ears be too obvious. The nerve this guy has.

As if on cue, a girl approaches the two of you, eyes sweetly scanning Ashveil. Judging from the school uniform she is wearing, she was probably skipping school to hang out here.

“Hey there, babes. I couldn’t help but notice that you were looking troubled by this person.” She puckers her lips and places a hand on her waist, angling to one side, trying to look more appealing perhaps.

“Don’t worry about us. We were just discussing which drink we should get first.” 

“If you want a drink, perhaps I could buy you one? Consider it a small ‘offering’ for a taste of something more?” You tense up in discomfort. Is this girl really skipping school just to flirt with guys at the bar? 

“No thanks. I think schoolgirls like you are better off diligently attending your classes than wasting your time here in the middle of the day.” The detective deadpans without hesitation.

“Is that what you are into? Ruining naive-looking nerds?”

“I’m definitely not into you, I can guarantee that.” Ashveil crosses his arms, huffing in annoyance. The girl clicks her tongue and leaves.

“She is clearly underage to be here, especially alone. Shouldn’t we alert someone?” You ask, watching the girl’s back disappear into the crowd.

“Miss Kuchiba has been keeping an eye. She’ll probably take over that part.”

‘Kuchiba’...? That name sounds familiar.

Before you have the time to properly recall where you have heard that name, Ashveil drags you deeper into the bar and towards a door for staff members. He nods at the person standing guard at the door, and the person nods back.

“As per the orders we received, we lured them in here. There’s three of them — a man who came first and then a couple who followed a few minutes later. We couldn’t check if they had weapons though, so be careful.”

“Thank you. Miss Kuchiba is here as well. If there’s any trouble, she can contact me directly.”

As the door closes behind you, the music from the bar fades into the background. The corridors are dark and murky, unlike the lively atmosphere outside. It makes you wonder if the renowned Fool’s Tavern also has a dark side, like this bar?

“Kuchiba really knows how to get the right people on the job, eh? I didn’t expect that she’d find such capable helpers for this case. That includes me, of course.” 

You want to ask who Miss Kuchiba is and why her name was so familiar to you, when a sharp, clattering sound erupts at the end of the corridor.

“That child you brought me last time couldn’t understand a thing.” A gruff, male voice roars. “How do you think our clients would like that? Huh?! HUH?!” Another clattering sound follows, like a ceramic piece or a wine bottle being thrown onto the ground. A shiver runs down your spine.

“Stay calm, breathe. You don’t have to say anything, okay?” Ashveil tries to soothe you. He’s standing taller than earlier, his insouciant persona from moments ago fading into seriousness. “Just don’t let them see that you are scared. I’ll handle the rest.”

You try your best to stand straight and keep your chin up, silently following behind him with the most neutral expression you can muster. Ashveil takes the lead, his body gestures are still pretty airy, not giving away his seriousness and attentiveness to the situation.

“We were told some really nice people were taking care of our kids. Am I finally having the honour to meet these ‘caretakers’?” He says, sounding almost genuine if not for the sarcasm oozing behind each word, each syllable. 

You follow Ashveil as he enters the room. There’s a shattered bottle of wine on the floor, and the couple from the cafe are kneeling down, the woman clutching her feet as the man leans over her protectively. Blood pools on the ground, seeping through her palms, and purpling wounds are evident on the man’s skin. It sends another shiver down your spine.

A man stands in the centre of the room, face flushed with anger and alcohol and fists clenched and raised.

“And who are you?”

“Just someone here to retrieve a few children. They’ve been out wayyy past dinner time, and their parents are worried sick.”

“Is that so? And is that person with you here to join you on your righteous mission?” The brash man spat, his patience clearly reaching the end of its limits.

“That, and to be a witness that will make it even easier to apprehend you.”

“Kid, you’re still a rookie, ain’tcha? Telling me your motives without me even pressing. Let me teach ya a little something, not like you’ll be able to apply it because you’ll be dead after this.”

“You’re welcome to try, if you’d like. I doubt that a person who can’t even take care of kids would be able to ‘take care’ of me.”

Your legs shake, but you don’t dare run. 

You have seen the news. The missing children. The grieving families. The fearful parents.

You realise the weight of the situation, and you sincerely hope that Detective Ashveil completes this task successfully, for the sake of the children. It helps you strengthen your resolve to see this through, even if it’s terrifying to be in this situation. How do law enforcers even handle this tension?

“You…” the woman on the ground spoke, her voice strained, “You saw us at that cafe, didn’t you? You were eavesdropping, weren’t you?”

“No I didn’t—” You try to protest, because truthfully, you were trying to ignore them and go about your day until you got dragged here by Ashveil, but the lady wasn’t going to listen.

“I saw you, you were staring at us. Those useless fools couldn’t stop you from following us here, huh?”

You don’t even know what to say. Your lips quiver as the lady’s gaze pierces through you, until broad shoulders block your vision. 

“I am the one doing the talking. If you have an issue, raise it with me.” Ashveil’s voice sounds even deeper than earlier, his tone laced with unsaid warnings.

“I’ve had enough of this circus.” The standing man growls, clearly intending to get aggressive. You take two steps back, standing close to the doorframe but not leaving the room, carefully following the man’s actions.

He picks up the broken leg of a chair, aiming straight for the detective’s head when the loud bang of a gunshot cuts through the heaving and panting of the people in the room, whizzing past the man’s ear and knocking him unconscious from shock and exertion. The couple leaning on the ground scurry into a corner, too shaken up to resist.

“Mr. Ashveil, please do not drag innocent civilians into such cases so casually. If anything dire had occurred, the consequences would have been far too severe.” A gentle, but authoritative voice speaks. At the entrance, a lady dressed in black and holding a gun puts a hand on her hip. It’s the same, eccentric woman from the cafe.

“Miss Kuchiba, you are finally here.” Ashveil breaths out a heavy sigh of relief, a light chuckle gracing his tone.  “Relax, I’m not too shabby in a fight. I wasn’t going to let them get hurt.”

You glance over her until you spot her badge. So that’s why her name was familiar. She’s an Officer from the Department of Aberration Defense, and is said to be one of the most capable of their members. 

“Physical well-being is not the only thing that you need to be concerned about in these cases, Detective.” 

“Oh right, right. I was so focused on catching the criminals in the act that I forgot about that part.” He says it so casually, you’re almost certain that it’s a lie. From just this experience alone, you could tell that he knows and thinks a lot more than he lets on.

“It’s rather unlike you to make such mistakes.” Kuchiba also seems to share your opinion.

“Ehh just couldn’t stop thinking of an old friend who wouldn’t allow kids to be mistreated this way.” He takes his hat off, holding it against his chest, a sad smile of reminiscence playing on his lips. 

“Was that the reason you were so willing to take up this task?”

“The detective pretends to think, as if he wasn't already sure of the answer,” a monkey pops up beside the window, “the main reason was that he was desperate for the pay.”

“Mr. N!! What awful timing. Couldn't you have saved me some face?”

The monkey ignores the detective’s comment and instead assumes a more serious demeanor as it says, “The people who were following you have been dealt with. I led them into a corner and had Miss Kuchiba’s people take care of them.”

“People who were following you?...” Kuchiba questions, eyeing Ashveil. 

“Yes, after I sat down in front of them in the cafe, I noticed a few shady people who wouldn’t stop staring at us. They probably noticed me trailing the couple. And to answer your question about me dragging an ‘innocent civilian’...”

Ashveil looks at you, apologetic, “I feared that by sitting with you at the cafe, I had put you at risk of being attacked if I left you alone. So I brought you along and asked you to put up an act with me so I could personally ensure your safety.”

“I probably was going to alert the local authorities about them,” you admit in a small voice, “they did seem suspicious to me but I never would have expected it to be this serious. Had you not been there, I… I don’t know how it would have gone.”

Ashveil opens his arms, inviting you and you abide, feeling your nerves relax as he gently rubs circles on your arm.

“You are being surprisingly too nice, Ashveil.” Mister N states.

“Not the time, Mr. N.”

“I’ll take my leave for now, there’s still work to be wrapped up.” Kuchiba interrupted, “Detective Ashveil, please ensure they get home safely.”

“I will.”

Kuchiba calls in her team, who help take the criminals away. Ashveil, followed by Mister N, leads you out of the bar. He takes in a deep breath as soon as he is out in the open, relishing another case closed successfully.

You have also completely calmed down now, the adrenaline from earlier wearing off. With the earlier fear gone, you can’t help but feel curious about the detective, wanting to learn more about his work.

You want to hear his stories, want to understand how he works, want to feel that gentle warmth of his that brought you comfort multiple times during today’s endeavour one more time (or maybe a couple more times). 

You want to learn just a little more about him.

So you ask, “What’s next for you?”

“I would like to make it up to you. What would you like in return for today’s, uhm, little ‘adventure’? A cup of coffee that you can enjoy without any interruptions this time?” 

“Would you join me?”

“Only if you want me to.”

When he is saying that so sweetly, how could you possibly decline?

[kinbedo]

Spoilers for the luna 4 archon quest (act 7 and 8)

That wasn't the end, was it.

[kinbedo]

Yes I will type out an essay about it because I cannot stop thinking about it. These aren't even proper theories honestly, just me trying to state the things I noticed and trying to find patterns.

Major spoilers for Nod Krai archon quests (and a bit of Amphoreus) under the cut!

OKAY SO.

Two endings. There were two endings and that was what really made me spiral.

(Screenshot is from Dawit's video, because I didn't take a screenshot in time myself)

So here's my theory: Dottore is not dead.

If you look at the corners, the patterns resemble the ones around Dottore's design

2. He was freely able to implant false memories in the traveler's mind, he probably did something similar again. But instead of simply using false memories to make people think he died, I think it might be more similar to the Samsara Cycles in Sumeru, or like the cycles in Amphoreus that led to the creation of the Irontomb. (will also touch on the Amphoreus parallels because I. was. SCREAMING.)

Or maybe, the fight itself was an illusion or a simulation, and the main cast was actually stuck inside one of Dottore's energy fields. And here are the reasons why I think he would do that -

to simulate the battle to learn more about his opponents (unlikely, since he should be strong enough to combat them with the trilunar authority)

to simulate the battle for himself to better get the hang of the powers of the moons (because he said that he had to still learn how to better control certain aspects of the trilunar authority like the space-time dimension)

to simulate the "death of a god".

Or... you know how Dottore was obsessed with the Traveler because of their Descender status...

What if Dottore's actual goal is to become a Descender? (this is actually a theory I read somewhere but I don't remember the details anymore)

When did this simulation begin and end? It probably started when he said "The experiment begins" right before the battle, or it could have started even before that and no one realised it. The glitched screen at the end of the quest mostly marked the end of the 'experiment'.

ALSO Scara said that he had an odd feeling at the end of the quest. And after the cutscene where he saved the Traveler, he talked about how it won't be long before Dottore connected the dots and identified what Scara is.

And in the first Nod Krai trailer, in the water's reflection, we saw Harbinger Scaramouche.

This makes me think that Scara's revenge arc has probably not even begun.

Sandrone's death better not have been in vain though 😭 please she was my favourite from the Nod Krai cast, I miss her.

Okay, time for Amphoreus parallels now, so spoilers for hsr's 3.x story below:

(I'm actually not very confident about hsr lore, so I won't be assuming much, I will just be stating some of the similarities I noticed while talking to a fried that is far more knowledgeable about Amphoreus)

From left to right are screenshots of the following: the sky that Dottore tore apart, Teyvat as seen from the universe from Skirk's trailer, the sky in Amphoreus.

...

When Dottore tore open the sky (and when Mavuika destroyed Gosoythoth, revealing the shattered moon in the sky), the red cube-like glitches that we see are very, very similar to the sky in Amphoreus.

In Skirk's trailer, we saw what Teyvat looked like from the outside. But when we went to the moon with Columbina, Teyvat looked like a completely ordinary planet. The glitched screen ending took place after the Traveler chose to return to Teyvat. Was the moon we visited with Bina also a fake? Was it another layer? Was the 'Teyvat' we saw an illusion? Was it part of Dottore's experiment?

On the summer island in Natlan, you unlock a special area through a world quest. This is one of the stone tablets found there -

"Black Tide".

And since both B and T have been capitalised, it's being used as a noun and not as an adjective.

The abyss is confirmed to not be native to Teyvat. So maybe, the Black Tide and the Abyss have similar origins?

The Heavenly Principles is also confirmed to not be native to Teyvat. And Asmoday's cubes look more similar to the Black Tide than the abyss does, and now she is 'missing'. This raises suspicions about Asmoday's source of power, alongside making you wonder about the other Shades and Celestia.

On top of all of this, Lygus was clearly capable of manipulating both time and space. And guess what his space manipulation looks like?

...

This is the same as the colour of the Black Tide, and the colour of Asmoday's cubes.

I'll leave it at that because I'm not very confident about all of this. My ramblings might just end up being completely false, or there might be something that I actually got right, who knows.

This has been in my drafts for too long and even then it isn't well-structured 😭 Might reblog this if I find something else, or I might never talk about it again, who knows.

[kinbedo]

Falling asleep while waiting for them to finish their work

ft. Albedo, Chiori, Dan Heng, Herta

Angsty undertones because of slight negligence, but it's mostly just domestic fluff <3

wc: ~500 each

A/n: No one asked but I started writing this with Herta's part. First time writing for hsr and of course it starts with Herta. I love her so much it's not even a joke 😭😭. Then came Dan Heng, then Chiori because I've been dying for Chiori for ages (have 170+ wishes and her best supports waiting for her), and then Albedo because my 2021 Albedo obsession era apparently never ended.

Albedo

You creak open the door to Albedo's office, watching his back as he moves around the room with measured steps.

Despite having returned from Dragonspine for a few days, your lover seemed as busy as ever, practically being glued to his office in the knight's headquarters.

Thankfully, you were able to put Klee to sleep. The little elf had insisted on wanting to stay awake and wait for her brother, but a few bedtime stories were all it took to have her fall asleep in your lap. After tucking her in, you had decided to visit Albedo to check in on him, hoping to be able to take him with you to slumber.

But seeing how invested he looked in whatever he was currently doing, you debated against it.

The door closes with a soft creak. You lean against the wall next to the door and sigh, unsure of how to approach the alchemist and convince him to take a break.

At this point, this has to be called over-working, you worry.

You slowly slide yourself to rest on the ground, head propped against the wall as drowsiness starts clouding your eyes. 

You could try waiting for him. You want to wait for him. 

Surely you won’t fall asleep here, right?

You trace the carvings on the wall with your eyes and listen carefully for the soft footsteps of the knights on night duty. The serene atmosphere of the Favonius Headquarters at night only makes your drowsiness worse, like being in a comfortable cot, being lulled to sleep.

Despite how quiet your actions have been, Albedo hears them loud and clear. He heard the soft creak of the door, and he hears the soft thud of you landing on the ground. A frown makes its way onto his face, curious about what you are doing here so late at night.

He wraps his work up as quickly as he can, settling the books on the side of his table and aligning and tucking the papers under weights.

When he steps outside, he finds you with your back against the wall, sound asleep.

Both fondness and guilt crash over him at once, as he realises that you were waiting for him. He kneels down, a hand over his knee and the other caressing your face.

He uses his index to press your cheek, but you don't even stir. He sighs, realising that he would have to carry you back. He has never been the strongest person, always needing an extra hand to carry his boxes around, but Albedo is always willing to make an extra effort for you.

So he presses a soft kiss to your forehead and then hooks his arms under your body, lifting you up and letting your head rest against his chest.

He smiles fondly at the sight of you in his arms, and then starts heading out and towards your home, determined to wake up in your arms the next morning.

Chiori

You neatly fold the fabrics and pat out the dresses on the mannequins. It’s almost completely dark and quiet outside now, with only the street-lamps illuminating Fontaine’s streets.

Chiori still seems busy working on a dress, and from the looks of it, she won’t be taking a break any time soon.

“Chio…”

“I know what you’re going to say. And yes, I will come sleep. Just after finishing a few more bits. I want to finish this dress by tomorrow afternoon, so that I can make any adjustments and have it ready for the event by the day after.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard, alright? Let me know if I can help in any way.”

She hums, eyes still fixated on the dress she is working on. 

A few minutes turn into multiple. You keep going back and forth between the boutique’s main area and the backrooms, watching your lover engrossed in her work.

With how resolute she looks about finishing the dress tonight, rather than by tomorrow as she earlier mentioned, you doubt that she’s getting any sleep, let alone going back home to rest.

For nights like these, Chiori had already prepared a make-shift bed to sleep in, just so it would be more convenient for her to immediately get back to work in the morning. From what you understand, she often spent her nights in the boutique before you got both together. Having you waiting for her is what helped her control her workaholic nature and return home for respite.

How she maintained her health with the way she over-works herself is beyond you.

The least you could do is support her — by bringing her coffee the way she likes it or by checking in on her and by reaffirming her when she needs it.

 And perhaps by adding a few more layers of clothes to make her make-shift bed more comfortable. Instead of heading home alone, you decide you stay with her in the boutique, even if it means spending the entire night there. 

Chiori reaches out to the bottle of water on her side desk, expecting it to be half-empty only to find it completely filled. That’s what finally breaks her focus, as she settles her needles down and turns the bottle around in her hand. Did you fill it for her…?

She looks out of the shop’s window and is met with the darkness of the night enveloping Fontaine. When did it get this late?

Chiori quickly puts away the needles and threads, leaving them in a spot comfortable enough for her to immediately pick her work up again in the morning. She heads to the door only to realise that it was locked from the inside. 

It could only mean one thing, she thinks to herself, that you haven’t left.

So she heads to the backrooms and finds you there, sleeping comfortably on the make-shift bed, with ample space left for her to fit into. It makes her eyes soften with adoration but chest tighten with the guilt of having ignored you because of work.

Quietly but swiftly, she undoes her hair, letting the intricately made braids fall loosely around her shoulders. Dimming the lights and changing into lighter clothing, she slips onto the mattress, trying not to wake you.

You stir in your sleep, partly aware of your lover’s presence, as you let her crawl into your arms and snuggle against your chest.

“Chio…” you mumble.

“I’m here.”

“Mmm…” 

You’re still here. Despite how her workaholic tendencies keep her away. Despite her often sharp-tongue due to her straight-forward nature. Despite the rumours her competitors try to spread to stir the market.

You are still here, and she couldn't be more grateful for that.

Dan Heng

The archives room is quiet, except for the soft buzz of the monitor and the clicking of the keyboard.

It feels colder tonight too. Normally, you would rely on Dan Heng's body heat to beat the cold, but with him still filing archives, all you can do is tug his hoodie closer and watch the back of his chair as he works.

Dan Heng might not be the warmest person you know (in terms of body heat, at least), but to you, his slightly cold skin mixed with his warm embrace is the heavenliest thing in the cosmos. 

"Are you done yet..."

"Sorry love, I'll be there soon."

"Mmm."

You don't really mind it. He prefers finishing his work before time, hating backlogs. And in turn, that helps him plan more of his time with you.

But sometimes, you really do wish that he would cut himself a little slack and indulge in more temporary pleasures (such as immediately cuddling with you to sleep, because your cravings are making tonight feel extra cold and you need him beside you pronto).

The sound of inconsistent sighs being replaced by steady breathing catches Dan Heng’s attention. “Love?” He looks in your direction to realise that you have fallen asleep, with your body still facing him.

He glances between the digital clock on his system and your limp body, realising that it’s been longer than he realised. 

Oh.

He quickly closes the system, not even bothering to arrange the files neatly as he slips in beside you. “You shouldn’t have let me get away with it…” He mutters, feeling guilty for having left you waiting.

“Mmm…Heng…” you mumble something in your sleep as you snuggle closer to him, subconsciously moving towards his neutral, but comforting scent. 

Dan Heng helps you get into a comfortable position, resting his hand on your waist and watching as you bury your head in his chest. You’re clingier when asleep and he adores that.

“Work can wait, but not these moments with you. I’ll try to be more careful next time. I’m sorry.” He’s sure that you couldn’t hear a word he was saying, that he was just talking to the air. But he still mentally notes to himself to keep a closer eye on the time and to not let you fall asleep waiting for him. 

And to apologise properly in the morning, probably by spending some quality time together. Maybe a date would be nice? It’s been a while since the two of you spent a tranquil day out together. 

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead and rests his head in the crook of your neck. 

Work may be never-ending, but he can handle it — no, he will handle it. Anything, to ensure that he isn’t neglecting your needs, his needs. 

Anything, to ensure that he isn’t neglecting you.

Herta

You're not sure what caught her eye or suddenly piqued her interest this late at night. One moment, you were pulling the blanket over her as she got into bed with you, the next she was rushing towards her pile of blueprints as she quickly scribbled out whatever came to her mind.

You stare at her, confused and amused, a small smile playing at your lips. You push yourself back and rest against the bed's headboard, watching Herta get in the zone.

"Got new ideas?"

"Yes! You're a genius, my love. Well, of course you have to be at least a quarter as good as me since you're my partner. This just might give me my next big break in the development of the Divergent Universe. Haha Screwy better watch out, because I'm taking this one from him!" She quickly rattles out, her hand not stopping once as she pulls out two new pages and dips her quill in the ink bottle again.

You are not sure what you said for her to credit you like this, but this isn't the first time this has happened. You decide against asking her about it though, lest she ends up getting distracted and takes even longer to return to your shared bed.

"Do you want me to wait for you?"

"Your wish honestly, I'm not sure how long this will take but I promise you that I'll join you as soon as I'm done."

You hum, deciding to stay awake for as long as you can. You grab a book, opting to read it to keep you engaged while you wait.

By the time Herta has finished her work, you are fast asleep, with the book you were reading lying flat on your chest.

She stretches her arms and sighs contently at the sight, though with a small pang of guilt for having kept you waiting for so long.

Carefully, so as to not awake you, she plucks the book away from your chest and replaces it with her head, snuggling closer. "Sorry to keep you waiting, dear." She whispers, before letting slumber claim her for the night.

To others, she seems apathetic and self-centred. And that isn't entirely wrong but when it comes to you? There's a side to her that she wouldn't dare show anyone else. Not because she's ashamed of it, but because she thinks that you are the only one who deserves to know her more domestic sides. <3

[d1strict99]

mic test, mic test, mic test... WELCOME TO DISCTRICT 99 !! a network focused on creating events and building a community of writers. we welcome creators from various fandoms, including but not limited to hyv games, jjk, l&ds, haikyuu, bsd, and alnst.

WHY CHOOSE US ?! (pick us, choose us, love us)

exposure and interaction ! ⭐

whether you're a fresh writer, a seasoned writer, or a returning writer, we accept anyone and everyone. works are guaranteed to be promoted and shared for more traction!

a safe space for everyone <3

district 99 is a supportive, inclusive, and drama-free zone. we believe in uplifting each other and creating a welcoming space for all writers and fandom enjoyers :))

feedback and support !

we're not just about posting—our admins and members are here to support you! get feedback, hype, and constructive comments on your work from fellow writers who genuinely care about your growth.

COME JOIN US, WE OFFER...

WRITER OF THE MONTH, or what we call, the WOM(P)². this is given to writers who had excellent performance during the month. those who went above and beyond with their craft, showed remarkable dedication on their works, and who stood out. respective awards / gifts will be given to them as a way of appreciation to what they are doing.

WRITING EVENTS. we have events scheduled at least every month, aligning with holidays such as halloween, christmas, and valentine's day. awards are given to the selected writers who have participated and posted their works, and have excelled in their chosen categories (one-shots, headcanons, and drabbles). this is not a competition but rather a celebration of creativity and expression.

to ensure further improvement for the events, we will be issuing a feedback or suggestion form

a DISCORD SERVER with network-exclusive events. if timezone allows us, we will be having movie nights, gaming nights, and such to keep everyone engaged! this will provide an opportunity for new friendships, bonds, and fun memories.

BUT WAIT, WHAT EVEN IS HAPPENING IN THE SERVER?!

we have the same question too! we currently have...

001. D99 CAMPING IN VC where anything and everything happens ! body doubling sessions, movie marathons (where we spam the chat 'im scared'), and even just to chat or keep each other company ; we constantly try to break the record everytime okay...

002. get QUOTED for your inspiring words (these are only some of it)!

003. HAVE LOTS OF WORK TO DO? don't worry, everyone too (misery loves company)! here in the server, we strive for accountability and balding zhongli

004. witness everybody's crashouts, ramblings, and thoughts (the #spam channel have seen better days) and be there through it all ! talk about your OCs, favorite work, current wip, your rotting drafts in ellipsus or google docs, or about your day in general. the community welcomes and appreciates you for simply being here :))

interested? read the rules and make sure that you understand them. ready to join now? look forward to the announcement.

[kinbedo]

Honkai: Star Rail Masterlist

We all are but chess pieces in THEIR game of chess. We could be mere pawns, or we could be more significant, awaiting THEM to decide our fate.

But these moments, my dear? These belong to us, and us alone.

—  ♡

Main Masterlist

Dan Heng

Falling asleep while waiting for them to finish their work

tba

The Herta

Falling asleep while waiting for them to finish their work

tba

Sunday

(none yet)

Pearl

(none yet)

Anaxagoras

(none yet)

Ashveil

Accidental Indulgement (wc: 2.5k)

Want a glimpse of destiny? Does it really matter? Allies or enemies, in the end, they all end the same, no?~

[kinbedo]

Something something productivity (maybe)

[kinbedo]

The 6th Harbinger- Signora

T/w- slight mentions of violence and death

(this fic is not based around a relationship- yn and Signora are portrayed just as friends here)

----------

La Signora, the Fair Lady, probably the most trusted Harbinger in the Tsaritsa's eyes, your childhood friend.

"Emotions cannot be part of the Fatui!" But that lady made her own rules. You both grew up together after all, learned how to fight together. You were there with her since you were both kids, till she almost went mad after losing her love, all the way till she became a Harbinger.

You were her personal secretary, the person Signora absolutely refused to let go of. She didn't want you to be a Harbinger, she wanted you to be at her side at all times, the secretary that even the Tsaritsa didn't mind having at her meetings.

All trivial matters were left to you- taking care of new recruits, punishing the traitors, handling the little messages and codes that could prove useful, they were your job. You were her right hand, the best support she had that kept her motivated and the one person she knew she could rely on. All while Signora went ahead being the leader.

As kids, Rosalyn was bold, she had a way with words. You may have not been the best with words, but when someone wronged even one of you, oh boy they'd face hell.

As you both grew up, your little pair spread terror on a larger scale- Harbinger and her secretary, who'd willingly get their own hands dirty, the only ones who'd dare (and actually succeed at) bringing in emotions even when faced with war.

So when, La Signora was declared dead, when the news of her assassination in the hands of the god of eternity reached the Fatui, you were deemed her most ideal replacement.

And thus here you were, not on, but right beside Signora's, Rosalyn's throne, planning out your way of vengeance against a god.

----------

[kinbedo]

Trying to write something :3 (totally not new fics without finishing old drafts)

[kinbedo]

Me after finishing the hsr 4.1 quest:

[kinbedo]

Hello! Good what every time of the day it is for you!! I hope you are doing well :D I know that you don’t take request but this may be an idea? Dahlia (from genshin impact) x a reader so obsessed with the color pink to the point where almost everything they own is in a different shade of pink. This obsession with could be why the reader noticed Dahlia in the first place (because of the light pink/colar that resides on his head).

(also! you’re so talented!! ˃̶͈◡˂̶͈ I’ve been stalking your blog for what feels like months now :P I thank you for your service 🫡 )

Please feel free to ignore as always

Aaaa thank you so much for your kind words!! Saw this early in the morning and it's made my entire day <3

This actually sparked my inspiration, since I, myself, am a little biased towards purple and purple characters, so I could relate with the same case about you and pink!! So have this little thing I wrote, hope it meets your expectations ^^

Summary: With the upcoming fest, someone seems to have gotten a little bolder, using it as his excuse to get closer to you. And that someone just so happens to be your crush — Dahlia.

Reader is a college student and works part-time at a bakery <3

fluff, requited love, wc: 1.7k, not proof-read

The college fest is something everyone looks forward to. You get a week to prepare for the event, and then a whole day to enjoy yourselves.

The main issues are likely to arise during the preparation phase. If your class had gotten the permission to put up a food stall, all everyone would have had to do is suggest items for the menu. But another class lucked out and got that, so your class had to take on "arts" instead.

You sigh as you rest your chin in your palm, leaning against the counter and tapping the back of your pen against your notebook.

Your co-workers were currently busy with other jobs, so you had to manage the bakery's counter alone. Thankfully, there were only a few customers and it was relatively peaceful, so you took this time to finish your homework while on the job.

The over-head bell chimes, bringing your attention to the new customer. "Welcome!"

A familiar figure walks in, and your heart neary leaps out of your chest. You barely manage to compose yourself. "Oh, Dahlia, it's you."

"I had heard that you were working at this bakery. Looks like the rumours were true."

"Why are you here?" You ask in a neutral tone, trying not to sound too dimissive or too flustered.

"Why, I'm here to see you of course! Don't tell me you don't want to see me?" He pouts like he knows what he's doing.

"Why would I want to see you though?"

"Because you like me, don't you? Your little crush on me is a secret that you were able to hide from everyone else. Just not from me~"

You choke over your own spit and a satisfied grin spreads across Dahlia's face.

In an attempt to avoid the question and divert the conversation, you ask him for his order. He seems to get the hint, because he quirks his eyebrow up before placing his order.

He watches you as you work, picking out the desserts and packaging them.

"So, what do you think about the upcoming fest?"

"If we had gotten the food stall, it might have been easier, I think. What are we going to do for arts? Decorate the entire school?"

"Oh Barbatos... you are so right!! We should do just that. If we offer to help decorate the school, then we'll be leaving parts of our work in every corner, leading to people recognising our group's work and coming to visit whatever booth we put up. And some others suggested selling handicrafts in our class, so we have the main blueprint for the fest laid."

"You seem invested in the fest."

"Yeah, I was appointed the class rep this fest. It's my job to make our class stand out."

His appointment must have occurred after you left for your shift at the bakery. It makes sense to make him the class rep since he is on pretty good terms with nearly everyone in the school, including teachers.

Though you would bet that the main reason he was chosen was because he's adept at gathering gossip. And this "intelligence gathering" skill he has would help your class maintain a lead on the latest trends and updates regarding the fest.

Mhm, you nod mentally, Dahlia is the ideal choice for class rep for the fest.

"Here's your order and the bill."

"So, do I get a little discount? Or even better — is it on the house for me?" He asks, a mock pleading expression on his face.

"No." You say flatly, which makes him let out a small 'aw'.

"Well, since I have to pay anyway, I might as well buy a few extras. What flavour do you like?"

"Huh? Me?"

"Mm-hm."

"Why are you asking me?"

"You're right, why am I asking you? I should just pick whatever I think is best. Well then, I'll get a strawberry cupcake as well, please."

"Packaged?"

"In the cutest pink box you have." Pink box?

You sigh as you pack the cupcake for him. But when you hand him his parcel, he returns it to you. "This one, is for you."

"But-"

"Hope you like strawberry cupcakes! If you don't, just let me know and I'll adjust the order next time. See you around~" Dahlia sings, happily skipping out of the bakery and leaving you with the boxed cupcake.

Your co-worker returns to the sight of Dahlia happily humming as he leaves the bakery. Having heard the last part of the conversation, she lets out an amused laugh. "Was that your lover?"

"No."

"'No'? Or do you mean, 'not yet'?" She eyes you, watching the heat creep up your neck. You look away, fiddling with the box in your hand and feeling too embarrassed to reply.

.

.

.

After discussing with the class, Dahlia decides to buy the main items required for the decorations with everyone's contributions. But buying and carrying all the decorations seemed like a big job for one person, so he tells everyone that you were tagging along with him.

He didn't even ask you if you wanted to. You literally had no choice in the matter as he dragged you behind him during lunch break, waving excitedly at his friends and promising to "be back soon".

You're glad that the stationery shop isn't too far from your college. With the upcoming fest, the teachers permitted the class reps to visit the nearby shops to make preparations for the event.

"Hanging out together like this isn't so bad, is it?" the pink-head breaks the silence, holding a list of items up and scanning the sheet as he walks.

"Yeah." You mumble, unsure of what you were supposed to do in a situation like this. He is messing with you on purpose, isn't he?

"What say you to us going out together to the city centre this weekend?"

"I don't think that will be necessary. We should be able to get all that we need for the fest at the shop we're going to right now."

"No silly, I don't mean going out for work," he chuckles, care-free, "I meant just to hang-out. You could call it a date, if you want to."

Your steps halt suddenly and a surprised gasp escapes you before you can hold it in.

He's too bold!!

But... "I guess, I would like that." You say the last part as quietly as you can, hoping he heard you, but at the same time hoping that he didn't.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"Uhm, I meant I wouldn't mind that."

"Great, I'll see you then, dove~"

Sigh, time to cancel your other weekend plans.

.

.

.

Dahlia is not a second late.

When you arrive at the designated location, he is casually leaning his back against a wall and scanning the crowd. When his eyes land on you, he smiles and waves you over.

Your outfit has multiple shades of pink mixing in perfect harmony. From the pink ribbon in your hair to the light pink lowers, finished with neutral white shoes so as to not mess up the colour pallette, the outfit you chose for today leans heavily on the cuter side.

You aren't sure what led you to wear this. Maybe you care more about his perception of you than you realised, because why does his satisfied hum ease the tension in your shoulders?

"I've noticed this before but you really do like this colour, huh." He twirls a finger around the ribbon in your hair, watching the satin gradient shine under the sunlight.

Your attention is caught by his pink hair and the pink highlights in his own clothes. It makes you feel a little bolder, somehow.

"Based on everything you have said and done so far, would I be right to assume that you like me, Dahlia? Is that why you dyed your hair to my favourite colour? So that you could catch my attention?"

"Oh? So I did catch your attention?"

Well that backfired.

And now you are back to a blushing mess. He laughs in response and pinches your cheek before carressing it gently. "You look beautiful in pink." And then, with a smug expression he adds, "especially when it tints your cheeks."

You cough, trying to regain your composure, before taking out a little box you had prepared for him. "For you," you answer, when he sends a questioning look your way, "Having a part-time job at a bakery helped me pick up some skills. I hope you'll like it."

"I'm sure I will." He digs his pocket, bringing out a small, neatly packed box. "I bought this for you."

You open it to find two keychains neatly dangling from a hook — a light pink bunny and a fuschia flower. "Thank you." You say, mesmerised.

"I noticed you had quite a few keychains around, and since you like this colour, I thought they'd be a nice addition to your collection.

You smile in response and carefully pick out one of the keychains to add to the bag you were currently carrying. Dahlia carefully watches your actions, a hint of bashfulness tinting his features.

"Where would you like to go first?" He asks, holding his hand out for you. You stare at his out-stretched arm, hesitating.

Am I going too fast? He thinks, but just as he's about to pull his hand back, you place your palm on top of his and interlace your fingers.

"Anywhere you want to go."

.

.

.

The preparations for the fest are nearly complete. Despite a day of hardwork, everyone is buzzing around excitedly for the big day tomorrow.

You decide to head outside to take a breather. You find a comfortable spot on the steps to sit down, when a shadow looms over you. Craning your neck upwards, you find Dahlia standing behind you, a bottle of water in his hand.

"Tired? Would you like some water?" He hands you his water bottle, and you take it gracefully.

"Yea, thanks."

"I think this will work out." He says, content.

"The fest? Yeah, I think so too," you take a sip, relishing the coolness. Did he add mint to the water? Or is that valberry extract?

"I was talking about us."

"Us?"

He tears his gaze away from the skies to meet yours. His eyes soften as a tender smile grazes his features, with none of his usual mischief mixed into his expression. He lets his hand slide closer towards yours, searching for your fingers and interlocking his own with them when he finds your hand.

"Mhm. I think we will work out, if you would let me."

[kinbedo]

Weaving Hearts

—  ♡

Alhaitham x reader (Fem pronouns used)

Reader likes to crochet and gives the little things she makes to Alhaitham.

Wc: 3.7k ; Fluff, pure fluff <3 

Gift for @millurie !!!

A/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MILALALALALA

Hope you hit your head in such a way that you forget all the negative people in your life and suddenly become insanely good at math so that your math teacher realises that you're the one 🔛🔝 and runs away <3

Stay silly and whimsical!! <3

Kaveh has always reprimanded Alhaitham for his terrible choice in decor. The ugly paintings on the wall and uneven patterns of his table-side drawer makes the blond sigh every time he sees them, to the point that he worries that his wrinkles might be a result of his roommate's poor taste rather than the stress from his clients.

And then, one day, Alhaitham comes home with a poorly made coin pouch. The stitches are messy and the overall design has an unmistakable feminine air — a complete contrast to the Scribe's usual self.

Kaveh can't help but stare in disbelief at the… “thing” that Alhaitham was so casually admiring. Did he really buy this?? Of his own volition???

But seeing the fondness on his face, Kaveh decides not to call him out on it, instead choosing to ignore the messily-made bag.

And then it happens again.

Alhaitham is casually drinking his evening coffee, a book in hand when the architect walks in after a meeting with a client. 

And the last thing he wanted after meeting with a difficult client was to see his roommate casually wearing ear muffs with… bunny ears?

It wasn't made well enough to provide warmth in the winters (not like it ever got that cold in Sumeru), but it did work to make the Scribe's serious demeanor look a little “cuter”...? 

“???” Kaveh can feel his head fill up with questions, eyes squinting in Alhaitham’s direction, but he’s too tired to voice any of them so he heads straight to his own room.

This one definitely looks better made than the last one, Kaveh notes, but the colour and quality of the yarn used seems to be similar to the coin pouch Alhaitham brought home a week ago. Maybe he's not buying these, but getting these from some place?

And then, it happens again.

This time, Kaveh is starting to notice a pattern.

All crocheted items. All in lighter colours. More on the feminine side. And the handiwork improves with each piece.

And all of them are items that Alhaitham is somehow… ‘cherishing’. The look in his eyes says that he is liking these things more than he likes his coffee and silence, and that’s giving Kaveh ideas that he’s too scared to confirm.

But he decides to test the waters either way.

The next time the two go out grocery shopping together, Kaveh tries to lead Alhaitham towards the stall selling handiworks — cute, crocheted items with colours and patterns similar to the ones he has been bringing home, but these are of far better quality with a finer finish.

The architect carefully gauges for the scribe’s reaction, watching as he picks a few trinkets up and toys with them. But he doesn’t have that same sparkle in his eyes.

Instead he looks like he’s trying to dissect the items on the spot, taking each stitch apart one by one.

The judgemental look in his eyes is starting to worry the owner of the stall and the other customers, so Kaveh drags him away, muttering a quick apology and an excuse, and heads to Lambad Tavern.

Shoulders hunched, Kaveh slouches over the table and lets out a heavy sigh. Alhaitham looks at him, puzzled.

“What odd request did a client make this time?”

“It’s— it isn’t a client. It’s my brain trying to figure out the purpose behind the things you keep bringing home.”

“Oh, do you mean the crocheted items I get from her?”

“AHA so there is a girl involved.” The blond exclaims, before sinking his face deeper into his palms. And then, quieter but audible enough, he says, “Didn’t expect you to reciprocate. Considering how self-absorbed you are, even if people fell for your decent looks, you didn’t seem like the type to even acknowledge their presence.”

“Normally I wouldn’t. But she caught my eye back when we were still students at the Akademiya.”

“Who is this ‘she’ anyway? Do I know her?” 

“You must have heard of her,” Alhaitham shrugs, and then the smallest of smiles graces his face, followed by him softly saying your name. It would barely be noticeable to anyone else, but the shift in his tone doesn’t escape the guy who has now known him for years.

This makes Kaveh groan for the nth time. Archons, he’s so doomed, he thinks, they both are.

.

.

.

You were strolling through the Grand Bazaar, hoping to find some inspiration for your next crochet project when you notice Alhaitham and Kaveh together. You want to approach them, but don’t want to intrude, so you decide to observe them before deciding that.

They stop near a stall for handiworks. Huh, does Kaveh also like such things?

You watch as Alhaitham picks up a little pot and holds it before his eyes. From the looks of it, the pot has crocheted flowers with a rocky base — a type of “decorative plant” that would be zero maintenance and would still look pretty. That does sound like the type of thing Alhaitham might appreciate.

Before you can make up your mind about approaching the pair, Kaveh starts dragging Alhaitham away nervously, and you notice the stall owner let out a sigh once they leave. It makes you giggle in realisation — of course Alhaitham’s strict presence can make those unfamiliar to him feel tense around him.

“Hmm, maybe I could buy the flower pot for him? It did look like he was looking at it very intensely.” But when you approach the vendor for the same, you realise that it might cost you a little more than your weekly budget can handle (after all, you do need to keep some spare mora for your snack-cravings and yarn needs). 

You take another look at the item, committing its design to memory. If you can’t buy it, then perhaps you could make it? There should be some appropriate colours of yarn lying around for this.

Guess you have your next project waiting for you to begin. 

.

You had finished making most of the flowers when you realised that the stems of the flowers would need some additional support if they were to stand on their own. Perhaps a modelling wire could do the trick?

You make your way to the bustling streets of Sumeru city, in the search to find the appropriate wires. You ask around at a few stores with no luck, before running into a familiar white shirt and red scarf. 

In one hand, Kaveh is holding a few blank sheets while the other prods at his chin. He’s muttering to himself, considering both the cost and quality of the brushes laid before him. After glancing around the area, you see thin, stiff structures laying in one shelf of the store. Potential wires. 

Feeling someone stand beside him, the architect eyes in your direction, his face immediately changing from contemplation to recognition. “Hey hey! It’s been a while. I think the last time I saw you, we were still students back at the Akademiya.” 

You smile politely. “It sounds like you’ve been doing well. When someone talks about architecture, your name surely follows in the conversation.” 

“Please it’s really not much. I just want the people of Sumeru to live comfortably in affordable, stable structures.” He tries being humble, scratching the back of his neck as though that might help him find the right words. “Speaking of which, how have you been? I believe you met with Alhaitham recently, yes?” 

“Ah did he tell you that?”

“He mentioned your name.”

“Oh, well, we always tried to stay in touch after school was over. Or well, I try to at least. Not sure if I’m pushing him or something,” you laugh awkwardly.

“Is it because of his position?”

Is it because of his position? His question gets you thinking. Why do you seek Alhaitham out? His position is definitely a reason why people have tried to get closer to the Scribe, but he always shoos those fiends away. 

No wait, do you seek him? Or… do you perhaps like his company? His presence? 

Well, the exact reason is something you could ponder over later. A perfect question to think about on a sleepless night. 

For now, a simple “I just don’t want to cut all contact now that school is over” with a polite smile should suffice.

Kaveh nods, understanding. It’s important to maintain contacts — who knows when you might need it. And maybe, he thinks, maintaining contact and staying approachable is all you see it as. But Alhaitham sure as hell doesn’t, if that tone he used when saying your name is anything to go by. 

So he decides to continue the conversation. Maybe give you a few hints. Make that annoying roommate of his owe him a favour (or so he hopes, at least).

“So, what brings you here today?”

“I’ve been crocheting recently and was looking for some wires to help structure some of my projects.” You’re not sure why Kaveh insists on continuing the conversation — maybe he really is just that friendly — but you appreciate the effort either way. If nothing else, you can stick by your earlier notion and ‘re-establish a contact’.

“Ooh crochet! And you are trying to give it more structure? More stability? Wow, that sounds like something that could help me view my blueprints in 3D. Ah but then I might have to make a blueprint for a blueprint to be able to develop the idea in two separate forms.” 

The architect starts pondering to himself, and you stand there awkwardly for a few seconds before choosing to check the wires the store had in stock. 

“...oh but- Ah!” That draws your attention back towards the blond, who sheepishly rubs the back of his neck with one hand while patting a floating suitcase with the other. “I suppose Mehrak could also project a 3-D image for me, like he already does.” The suitcase bleeps twice in quick succession, as if content with the architect’s conclusion. 

“‘Mehrak’?” You ask.

“Oh you haven’t met Mehrak yet. I could tell you a whole story about how he came to be but let’s leave that for another time. I believe I have already talked your ears off.” 

Wow so he can talk a lot, keep conversations going and is considerate?? 

No wonder Alhaitham talks about him like he is very comfortable around Kaveh, even if what he has told you mostly came in the form of ‘complaints’ (you would call it ‘childish bickering’, that Alhaitham oddly seems to relish). 

“Do you and Alhaitham get along well?” You decide to ask.

“Yeah no, he gets on my nerves like it’s his favourite hobby!” Ah, so they do get along very well.

“What about you? Do you and Alhaitham get along well?” 

“Maybe? It's usually me talking and him nodding.”

“Does he ever have his headphones on or…”

“He has never worn them around me.”

Kaveh internally sobs, that fool really is down bad. He never takes his headphones off for anyone.

“Sometimes we just spend time together in silence,” you continue, “with him reading a book and me trying to make something.” 

“And he doesn't put his headphones on? Even then?”

“Nope.”

“So the things he recently brought ho— I mean, so the things that Alhaitham has recently been carrying around were gifts from you?”

“Oh, he actually kept them?”

“He kept everything.”

.

.

.

After your little interaction with the architect, he starts inviting you to hang out with some of his friends. 

In the beginning, you were more than intimidated by his group.

You were already friends with Alhaitham, the Scribe of the Akademiya. But being in the same place as Ksharvar's gem, a forest ranger who you heard was invited to be the sage of Amurta and the General Mahamatra… four Akademiya giants gathered in the same place… you thought you had accidentally gotten involved in some major crime case and were being investigated discreetly. 

Tighnari had a young student who also joined these hangouts, and in the beginning you often found solace around her. 

Sometimes, you would notice that you and Alhaitham were being left out from a discussion. Kaveh, Tighnari, Cyno and Collei would stand close to each other, whispering and nodding. Upon approaching them, Tighnari would easily dismiss it as “discussing Collei's teaching plan” or “clarifying some details”.

Personally approaching the trainee forest ranger and trying to coddle her into telling you the truth also didn't work. She would only grin widely in response. 

You decided to make little keychains for each of your new friends — a leaf for Tighnari, a flower for Collei, a rhombus with the patterns on the Mausoleums for Cyno, a feather for Kaveh. They took the gifts gracefully, of course, but you couldn’t shake off the feeling of their intense stares as you handed Alhaitham his new keychain. They seemed more interested in what you gave the Scribe than their own gifts. Or was it your expression that they were keen on gouging? Or was it Alhaitham’s reactions?

Then, everyone started getting too busy for get-togethers. Everyone except you and Alhaitham, because somehow the Scribe was not only inviting you out but was also perfectly aligning your schedules together. 

Given the signs, it’s not hard to see what could be happening. 

No wait, it is hard to see what is happening. Because what if all of this is just one big joke that you are at the centre of and you are being led to believe in things that are not actually true but by leading your thoughts in that direction they want to see your reactions and thus poke fun about how easily you believe in the delusions you are being fed and —

But then again, these guys aren’t like that at all. You’re just trying not to get carried away by your feelings for the Scribe and are twisting their personalities to help with that.

This is… awfully confusing. Emotions always are, are they not? 

Trying to identify fallacies in their actions (or your thoughts, you’re not sure which one) starts seeming like a not-so-fun mind puzzle. And after a while you decide to just “let the wind lead” (very Mondstadter of you, despite only having visited the place once).

.

You were sitting on a branch of the Great Tree near the Sanctuary of Surasthana, per usual crocheting and waiting for Alhaitham to arrive. He arrives right on time, a new book tucked under his arm and his headphones taken off and resting on his neck.

“Are you free this weekend?” He asks, settling into his place beside you and leaning against the bark of the tree. Unconsciously, you huddle closer to him. But before you realise it and move away, he’s already getting comfortable with your head leaning against his shoulder. 

“I have time, yeah.” You say quickly, trying not to let your attention linger too long on the contact.

“While searching for this book, I realised that the files in my office are due their regular cleaning. Would you mind helping me out with arranging the inventory?”

“Ooh I get to take a peek inside the Scribe’s office?” You nod enthusiastically. 

“It’s not as mysterious as Kaveh makes it sound, really.” He replies, knowing that you were probably thinking about how Kaveh makes a big deal of barely having seen Alhaitham’s working space. “I prefer when most people don’t intrude on my space, that’s all.”

“Oh so I’m not ‘most people’ anymore?” You snicker, a vague attempt at light-hearted banter.

Alhaitham stares into the distance for a few seconds, the smallest of smiles creeping up onto his face, as he confidently responds, “You never were.”

.

It’s already past midnight when you finish helping Alhaitham arrange his files at the Akademiya. With his office being on the upper floors, you get a good view of the students in the library below. Stretching and yawning, you watch some kids drag away the last of their friends remaining in the library, dimming the lights and leaving the rest of the studying for the next sunrise. 

“After placing these last few books in the right places, we’ll be done. Thanks for all your help.”

“I am glad I came along. I thought you only wanted company because organising archives can get boring, but it was surprisingly fun.” You smile at him, holding your hands out and signalling at the books in his hand. He hands you the books and you quickly glimpse over their titles to see which section they need to be placed in. Ecology.

“Yea, with how you kept talking about one thing or another, it didn’t feel like that much of a headache. Some lucky scholars might even have their papers reconsidered, thanks to you seeing the potential some could have.”

You laugh at that, internally praying that these lucky souls won’t disappoint. Having been an Akademiya student yourself, you know how important research papers can be for progress, and it’s nigh impossible to have a rejected paper be reconsidered. They’d better not miss this opportunity that you were able to provide them.

“You can put those books in their places, I’ll deal with the remaining ones.” He points at the books in your hand with his chin and then heads back inside his office.

You nod and head down to the library.

You scan the bookshelves and identify the column for Ecological Studies. “These books probably go up there.” You think, carefully tucking the books under your arm and gripping on the ladder. It’s only after you nearly reach the top that you realise that perhaps, you should have taken only one or two books at a time. Handling the books and maintaining balance on the ladder together was more difficult than some of the regulars made it seem. 

Your elbow accidentally nudges a book to the side and you lunge at it to grab it before it fell, only for the ladder to tilt with the weight of your body and topple over. 

Hearing the loud crash erupt in the library, Alhaitham rushes over to find you rubbing your head and your legs tangled with the ladder. He sighs at the sight, then wordlessly, pulls the fallen ladder away from you and starts collecting the scattered books. He doesn’t offer comforting words or empty pleasantries to ease the situation. Just works to help the situation like it’s his duty.

He kneels beside you on the ground, caressing your knee and ankle. You hiss in pain when his finger presses near your ankle and you pull your leg back, shaking your head sideways.

“It's fine, I can still walk.”

“Don't try to act tough.” Before you can retort further, he slings your arm over his shoulder and slips a hand beneath your knees, picking you up way too easily. ‘Feeble scholar’ yea sure, you think.

It's quiet for a while. 

The proximity makes the pain feel more bearable than the questions in your mind. Despite knowing that it was too dark for anyone else to be around, you still scan the area around you, mulling over how you want to ask the questions racing through your head.

“Say… is all of this on purpose?”

“All of what?”

“You know, the hangouts that only the two of us are free for, the random gifts which always happen to feel awfully specific and… um.”

“And?”

“I'm not sure, but I feel like you are nicer to me compared to how you are with others. And a little touchy as well.” You shrug, trying to look casual, but knowing that your shy tone is giving you away. 

“Yes,” he breathes out, “yes, it is all on purpose. I can stop if it makes you uncomfortable though. I just want you to look at me.”

“But I do look at you.”

“I meant that in a different way.” He says it like he says everything else, like he doesn't really really care about what he's implying. You are not sure why, but that casual tone of his makes the words sting.

You clutch tightly at the fabric of his shirt, biting your lips before finally, meekly saying, “I know.” 

This makes his steps halt suddenly. In the dark, quiet room, you can’t really make out his expression. 

A few rays of moonlight reflect off the nearby jade ornaments on the library’s tables and light up his eyes. Those damned emerald eyes. 

A soft, breathy chuckle emerges from the bottom of his throat as he mutters a quiet, “is that so” before resuming his steps.

For once, the Scribe has no words left to say.

During one of his banters with Kaveh, he told the architect that if someone could really manage to leave him speechless, then he might as well fall in love with them. He never expected that to truly happen.

A satisfied smile sits on his face as he realises that remembering his own words is only making him fall deeper.

And he’s glad that at the end of the roller-coaster of emotions he has been feeling since archons know when — it was you, it always has been you — since the first time you crossed paths in this very library. 

.

.

.

Kaveh walks in to see Alhaitham admiring the latest gift you gave him — a small, crocheted pot of flowers. He vaguely remembers seeing something similar when he and Alhaitham were at the market, except the Scribe was scrutinising the one there while he’s looking at your work like it’s the greatest masterpiece of this world. 

“Well, did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“You know, ask her out?”

“Oh.”

“Don’t ‘oh’ me. Did you ask her out or not??”

“Well, at least I know that she reciprocates.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“We talked.” 

“And?”

“That’s it.”

“Don’t tell me you forgot to ask her out officially…” 

Seeing Alhaitham’s sheepish smile, Kaveh can’t help but slap his forehead like he has been wronged a thousand times in one second. “OH COME ON MAN!!”

[kinbedo]

Weaving Hearts

—  ♡

Alhaitham x reader (Fem pronouns used)

Reader likes to crochet and gives the little things she makes to Alhaitham.

Wc: 3.7k ; Fluff, pure fluff <3 

Gift for @millurie !!!

A/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MILALALALALA

Hope you hit your head in such a way that you forget all the negative people in your life and suddenly become insanely good at math so that your math teacher realises that you're the one 🔛🔝 and runs away <3

Stay silly and whimsical!! <3

Kaveh has always reprimanded Alhaitham for his terrible choice in decor. The ugly paintings on the wall and uneven patterns of his table-side drawer makes the blond sigh every time he sees them, to the point that he worries that his wrinkles might be a result of his roommate's poor taste rather than the stress from his clients.

And then, one day, Alhaitham comes home with a poorly made coin pouch. The stitches are messy and the overall design has an unmistakable feminine air — a complete contrast to the Scribe's usual self.

Kaveh can't help but stare in disbelief at the… “thing” that Alhaitham was so casually admiring. Did he really buy this?? Of his own volition???

But seeing the fondness on his face, Kaveh decides not to call him out on it, instead choosing to ignore the messily-made bag.

And then it happens again.

Alhaitham is casually drinking his evening coffee, a book in hand when the architect walks in after a meeting with a client. 

And the last thing he wanted after meeting with a difficult client was to see his roommate casually wearing ear muffs with… bunny ears?

It wasn't made well enough to provide warmth in the winters (not like it ever got that cold in Sumeru), but it did work to make the Scribe's serious demeanor look a little “cuter”...? 

“???” Kaveh can feel his head fill up with questions, eyes squinting in Alhaitham’s direction, but he’s too tired to voice any of them so he heads straight to his own room.

This one definitely looks better made than the last one, Kaveh notes, but the colour and quality of the yarn used seems to be similar to the coin pouch Alhaitham brought home a week ago. Maybe he's not buying these, but getting these from some place?

And then, it happens again.

This time, Kaveh is starting to notice a pattern.

All crocheted items. All in lighter colours. More on the feminine side. And the handiwork improves with each piece.

And all of them are items that Alhaitham is somehow… ‘cherishing’. The look in his eyes says that he is liking these things more than he likes his coffee and silence, and that’s giving Kaveh ideas that he’s too scared to confirm.

But he decides to test the waters either way.

The next time the two go out grocery shopping together, Kaveh tries to lead Alhaitham towards the stall selling handiworks — cute, crocheted items with colours and patterns similar to the ones he has been bringing home, but these are of far better quality with a finer finish.

The architect carefully gauges for the scribe’s reaction, watching as he picks a few trinkets up and toys with them. But he doesn’t have that same sparkle in his eyes.

Instead he looks like he’s trying to dissect the items on the spot, taking each stitch apart one by one.

The judgemental look in his eyes is starting to worry the owner of the stall and the other customers, so Kaveh drags him away, muttering a quick apology and an excuse, and heads to Lambad Tavern.

Shoulders hunched, Kaveh slouches over the table and lets out a heavy sigh. Alhaitham looks at him, puzzled.

“What odd request did a client make this time?”

“It’s— it isn’t a client. It’s my brain trying to figure out the purpose behind the things you keep bringing home.”

“Oh, do you mean the crocheted items I get from her?”

“AHA so there is a girl involved.” The blond exclaims, before sinking his face deeper into his palms. And then, quieter but audible enough, he says, “Didn’t expect you to reciprocate. Considering how self-absorbed you are, even if people fell for your decent looks, you didn’t seem like the type to even acknowledge their presence.”

“Normally I wouldn’t. But she caught my eye back when we were still students at the Akademiya.”

“Who is this ‘she’ anyway? Do I know her?” 

“You must have heard of her,” Alhaitham shrugs, and then the smallest of smiles graces his face, followed by him softly saying your name. It would barely be noticeable to anyone else, but the shift in his tone doesn’t escape the guy who has now known him for years.

This makes Kaveh groan for the nth time. Archons, he’s so doomed, he thinks, they both are.

.

.

.

You were strolling through the Grand Bazaar, hoping to find some inspiration for your next crochet project when you notice Alhaitham and Kaveh together. You want to approach them, but don’t want to intrude, so you decide to observe them before deciding that.

They stop near a stall for handiworks. Huh, does Kaveh also like such things?

You watch as Alhaitham picks up a little pot and holds it before his eyes. From the looks of it, the pot has crocheted flowers with a rocky base — a type of “decorative plant” that would be zero maintenance and would still look pretty. That does sound like the type of thing Alhaitham might appreciate.

Before you can make up your mind about approaching the pair, Kaveh starts dragging Alhaitham away nervously, and you notice the stall owner let out a sigh once they leave. It makes you giggle in realisation — of course Alhaitham’s strict presence can make those unfamiliar to him feel tense around him.

“Hmm, maybe I could buy the flower pot for him? It did look like he was looking at it very intensely.” But when you approach the vendor for the same, you realise that it might cost you a little more than your weekly budget can handle (after all, you do need to keep some spare mora for your snack-cravings and yarn needs). 

You take another look at the item, committing its design to memory. If you can’t buy it, then perhaps you could make it? There should be some appropriate colours of yarn lying around for this.

Guess you have your next project waiting for you to begin. 

.

You had finished making most of the flowers when you realised that the stems of the flowers would need some additional support if they were to stand on their own. Perhaps a modelling wire could do the trick?

You make your way to the bustling streets of Sumeru city, in the search to find the appropriate wires. You ask around at a few stores with no luck, before running into a familiar white shirt and red scarf. 

In one hand, Kaveh is holding a few blank sheets while the other prods at his chin. He’s muttering to himself, considering both the cost and quality of the brushes laid before him. After glancing around the area, you see thin, stiff structures laying in one shelf of the store. Potential wires. 

Feeling someone stand beside him, the architect eyes in your direction, his face immediately changing from contemplation to recognition. “Hey hey! It’s been a while. I think the last time I saw you, we were still students back at the Akademiya.” 

You smile politely. “It sounds like you’ve been doing well. When someone talks about architecture, your name surely follows in the conversation.” 

“Please it’s really not much. I just want the people of Sumeru to live comfortably in affordable, stable structures.” He tries being humble, scratching the back of his neck as though that might help him find the right words. “Speaking of which, how have you been? I believe you met with Alhaitham recently, yes?” 

“Ah did he tell you that?”

“He mentioned your name.”

“Oh, well, we always tried to stay in touch after school was over. Or well, I try to at least. Not sure if I’m pushing him or something,” you laugh awkwardly.

“Is it because of his position?”

Is it because of his position? His question gets you thinking. Why do you seek Alhaitham out? His position is definitely a reason why people have tried to get closer to the Scribe, but he always shoos those fiends away. 

No wait, do you seek him? Or… do you perhaps like his company? His presence? 

Well, the exact reason is something you could ponder over later. A perfect question to think about on a sleepless night. 

For now, a simple “I just don’t want to cut all contact now that school is over” with a polite smile should suffice.

Kaveh nods, understanding. It’s important to maintain contacts — who knows when you might need it. And maybe, he thinks, maintaining contact and staying approachable is all you see it as. But Alhaitham sure as hell doesn’t, if that tone he used when saying your name is anything to go by. 

So he decides to continue the conversation. Maybe give you a few hints. Make that annoying roommate of his owe him a favour (or so he hopes, at least).

“So, what brings you here today?”

“I’ve been crocheting recently and was looking for some wires to help structure some of my projects.” You’re not sure why Kaveh insists on continuing the conversation — maybe he really is just that friendly — but you appreciate the effort either way. If nothing else, you can stick by your earlier notion and ‘re-establish a contact’.

“Ooh crochet! And you are trying to give it more structure? More stability? Wow, that sounds like something that could help me view my blueprints in 3D. Ah but then I might have to make a blueprint for a blueprint to be able to develop the idea in two separate forms.” 

The architect starts pondering to himself, and you stand there awkwardly for a few seconds before choosing to check the wires the store had in stock. 

“...oh but- Ah!” That draws your attention back towards the blond, who sheepishly rubs the back of his neck with one hand while patting a floating suitcase with the other. “I suppose Mehrak could also project a 3-D image for me, like he already does.” The suitcase bleeps twice in quick succession, as if content with the architect’s conclusion. 

“‘Mehrak’?” You ask.

“Oh you haven’t met Mehrak yet. I could tell you a whole story about how he came to be but let’s leave that for another time. I believe I have already talked your ears off.” 

Wow so he can talk a lot, keep conversations going and is considerate?? 

No wonder Alhaitham talks about him like he is very comfortable around Kaveh, even if what he has told you mostly came in the form of ‘complaints’ (you would call it ‘childish bickering’, that Alhaitham oddly seems to relish). 

“Do you and Alhaitham get along well?” You decide to ask.

“Yeah no, he gets on my nerves like it’s his favourite hobby!” Ah, so they do get along very well.

“What about you? Do you and Alhaitham get along well?” 

“Maybe? It's usually me talking and him nodding.”

“Does he ever have his headphones on or…”

“He has never worn them around me.”

Kaveh internally sobs, that fool really is down bad. He never takes his headphones off for anyone.

“Sometimes we just spend time together in silence,” you continue, “with him reading a book and me trying to make something.” 

“And he doesn't put his headphones on? Even then?”

“Nope.”

“So the things he recently brought ho— I mean, so the things that Alhaitham has recently been carrying around were gifts from you?”

“Oh, he actually kept them?”

“He kept everything.”

.

.

.

After your little interaction with the architect, he starts inviting you to hang out with some of his friends. 

In the beginning, you were more than intimidated by his group.

You were already friends with Alhaitham, the Scribe of the Akademiya. But being in the same place as Ksharvar's gem, a forest ranger who you heard was invited to be the sage of Amurta and the General Mahamatra… four Akademiya giants gathered in the same place… you thought you had accidentally gotten involved in some major crime case and were being investigated discreetly. 

Tighnari had a young student who also joined these hangouts, and in the beginning you often found solace around her. 

Sometimes, you would notice that you and Alhaitham were being left out from a discussion. Kaveh, Tighnari, Cyno and Collei would stand close to each other, whispering and nodding. Upon approaching them, Tighnari would easily dismiss it as “discussing Collei's teaching plan” or “clarifying some details”.

Personally approaching the trainee forest ranger and trying to coddle her into telling you the truth also didn't work. She would only grin widely in response. 

You decided to make little keychains for each of your new friends — a leaf for Tighnari, a flower for Collei, a rhombus with the patterns on the Mausoleums for Cyno, a feather for Kaveh. They took the gifts gracefully, of course, but you couldn’t shake off the feeling of their intense stares as you handed Alhaitham his new keychain. They seemed more interested in what you gave the Scribe than their own gifts. Or was it your expression that they were keen on gouging? Or was it Alhaitham’s reactions?

Then, everyone started getting too busy for get-togethers. Everyone except you and Alhaitham, because somehow the Scribe was not only inviting you out but was also perfectly aligning your schedules together. 

Given the signs, it’s not hard to see what could be happening. 

No wait, it is hard to see what is happening. Because what if all of this is just one big joke that you are at the centre of and you are being led to believe in things that are not actually true but by leading your thoughts in that direction they want to see your reactions and thus poke fun about how easily you believe in the delusions you are being fed and —

But then again, these guys aren’t like that at all. You’re just trying not to get carried away by your feelings for the Scribe and are twisting their personalities to help with that.

This is… awfully confusing. Emotions always are, are they not? 

Trying to identify fallacies in their actions (or your thoughts, you’re not sure which one) starts seeming like a not-so-fun mind puzzle. And after a while you decide to just “let the wind lead” (very Mondstadter of you, despite only having visited the place once).

.

You were sitting on a branch of the Great Tree near the Sanctuary of Surasthana, per usual crocheting and waiting for Alhaitham to arrive. He arrives right on time, a new book tucked under his arm and his headphones taken off and resting on his neck.

“Are you free this weekend?” He asks, settling into his place beside you and leaning against the bark of the tree. Unconsciously, you huddle closer to him. But before you realise it and move away, he’s already getting comfortable with your head leaning against his shoulder. 

“I have time, yeah.” You say quickly, trying not to let your attention linger too long on the contact.

“While searching for this book, I realised that the files in my office are due their regular cleaning. Would you mind helping me out with arranging the inventory?”

“Ooh I get to take a peek inside the Scribe’s office?” You nod enthusiastically. 

“It’s not as mysterious as Kaveh makes it sound, really.” He replies, knowing that you were probably thinking about how Kaveh makes a big deal of barely having seen Alhaitham’s working space. “I prefer when most people don’t intrude on my space, that’s all.”

“Oh so I’m not ‘most people’ anymore?” You snicker, a vague attempt at light-hearted banter.

Alhaitham stares into the distance for a few seconds, the smallest of smiles creeping up onto his face, as he confidently responds, “You never were.”

.

It’s already past midnight when you finish helping Alhaitham arrange his files at the Akademiya. With his office being on the upper floors, you get a good view of the students in the library below. Stretching and yawning, you watch some kids drag away the last of their friends remaining in the library, dimming the lights and leaving the rest of the studying for the next sunrise. 

“After placing these last few books in the right places, we’ll be done. Thanks for all your help.”

“I am glad I came along. I thought you only wanted company because organising archives can get boring, but it was surprisingly fun.” You smile at him, holding your hands out and signalling at the books in his hand. He hands you the books and you quickly glimpse over their titles to see which section they need to be placed in. Ecology.

“Yea, with how you kept talking about one thing or another, it didn’t feel like that much of a headache. Some lucky scholars might even have their papers reconsidered, thanks to you seeing the potential some could have.”

You laugh at that, internally praying that these lucky souls won’t disappoint. Having been an Akademiya student yourself, you know how important research papers can be for progress, and it’s nigh impossible to have a rejected paper be reconsidered. They’d better not miss this opportunity that you were able to provide them.

“You can put those books in their places, I’ll deal with the remaining ones.” He points at the books in your hand with his chin and then heads back inside his office.

You nod and head down to the library.

You scan the bookshelves and identify the column for Ecological Studies. “These books probably go up there.” You think, carefully tucking the books under your arm and gripping on the ladder. It’s only after you nearly reach the top that you realise that perhaps, you should have taken only one or two books at a time. Handling the books and maintaining balance on the ladder together was more difficult than some of the regulars made it seem. 

Your elbow accidentally nudges a book to the side and you lunge at it to grab it before it fell, only for the ladder to tilt with the weight of your body and topple over. 

Hearing the loud crash erupt in the library, Alhaitham rushes over to find you rubbing your head and your legs tangled with the ladder. He sighs at the sight, then wordlessly, pulls the fallen ladder away from you and starts collecting the scattered books. He doesn’t offer comforting words or empty pleasantries to ease the situation. Just works to help the situation like it’s his duty.

He kneels beside you on the ground, caressing your knee and ankle. You hiss in pain when his finger presses near your ankle and you pull your leg back, shaking your head sideways.

“It's fine, I can still walk.”

“Don't try to act tough.” Before you can retort further, he slings your arm over his shoulder and slips a hand beneath your knees, picking you up way too easily. ‘Feeble scholar’ yea sure, you think.

It's quiet for a while. 

The proximity makes the pain feel more bearable than the questions in your mind. Despite knowing that it was too dark for anyone else to be around, you still scan the area around you, mulling over how you want to ask the questions racing through your head.

“Say… is all of this on purpose?”

“All of what?”

“You know, the hangouts that only the two of us are free for, the random gifts which always happen to feel awfully specific and… um.”

“And?”

“I'm not sure, but I feel like you are nicer to me compared to how you are with others. And a little touchy as well.” You shrug, trying to look casual, but knowing that your shy tone is giving you away. 

“Yes,” he breathes out, “yes, it is all on purpose. I can stop if it makes you uncomfortable though. I just want you to look at me.”

“But I do look at you.”

“I meant that in a different way.” He says it like he says everything else, like he doesn't really really care about what he's implying. You are not sure why, but that casual tone of his makes the words sting.

You clutch tightly at the fabric of his shirt, biting your lips before finally, meekly saying, “I know.” 

This makes his steps halt suddenly. In the dark, quiet room, you can’t really make out his expression. 

A few rays of moonlight reflect off the nearby jade ornaments on the library’s tables and light up his eyes. Those damned emerald eyes. 

A soft, breathy chuckle emerges from the bottom of his throat as he mutters a quiet, “is that so” before resuming his steps.

For once, the Scribe has no words left to say.

During one of his banters with Kaveh, he told the architect that if someone could really manage to leave him speechless, then he might as well fall in love with them. He never expected that to truly happen.

A satisfied smile sits on his face as he realises that remembering his own words is only making him fall deeper.

And he’s glad that at the end of the roller-coaster of emotions he has been feeling since archons know when — it was you, it always has been you — since the first time you crossed paths in this very library. 

.

.

.

Kaveh walks in to see Alhaitham admiring the latest gift you gave him — a small, crocheted pot of flowers. He vaguely remembers seeing something similar when he and Alhaitham were at the market, except the Scribe was scrutinising the one there while he’s looking at your work like it’s the greatest masterpiece of this world. 

“Well, did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“You know, ask her out?”

“Oh.”

“Don’t ‘oh’ me. Did you ask her out or not??”

“Well, at least I know that she reciprocates.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“We talked.” 

“And?”

“That’s it.”

“Don’t tell me you forgot to ask her out officially…” 

Seeing Alhaitham’s sheepish smile, Kaveh can’t help but slap his forehead like he has been wronged a thousand times in one second. “OH COME ON MAN!!”