to want you to want me - thoma
469 words | @thesteambird 2025 secret santa event
for @milkstore
It sits inside you there at the base of your stomach like a gaping maw. There’s no bottom to be seen, and yet it drools at the edges, dripping into the abyss. You’ve tried to fill it, archons know you have, so many times you’ve tried, yet the pangs of hunger only gets worse.
You don’t know how long it’s lived inside you. It begs and groans at seemingly every moment of the day. You wish to say you’ve gotten used to it. You hoped that you would have learn to coexist with it by now. And yet its emptiness overwhelms you, seeping into every thought, every action, every emotion you take.
It craves to be fed. You can’t deny it even if you tried.
So what a delight it was when he started to come to your teashop, the man of bright green eyes and golden hair. You almost didn’t notice it at first. It was only simple gossip at first, not that surprising seeing that you hear many passing things from customers in your profession. But then you mentioned something more secret, more unknown. Then there it was, that twinkle in his eye. Then a charming smile upon his lips.
And your stomach was full.
If only he knew how much you prepare on the days leading up to his visits—how much you eavesdrop, how many questions you ask. Nobody bats an eye, for who would suspect a simple teashop owner?
And when he finally arrives?
Oh, how his sweet words drip like dandelion wine from his lips. Like glancing caresses, they tease words of love, desire, and want. How full your stomach and how light your heart quickly becomes. It’s an intoxicating feeling, so much so that no longer can you think. All the words you’ve been saving for him simply tumble from your mouth without end. Deep down, you know you will have to desperately gather something new, even more secret, for next time, but with the way his lips curl into that smile and how his eyes lock onto you and you only, how can you deny him anything?
His curiosity is a god to be worshipped and the sound of his voice a sacred text to be studied. You would serve every day at his altar if you could. Through him is satisfaction. Through him is salvation. As long as you were wanted, as long as you were needed, you would no longer be empty.
Right?
And when his visit has come to an end and he has finally wrung out every single hidden thing from your lips, he leaves, his stomach full and sated. And good for him, you feel. With that hunger even stronger and that bottomless pit in your stomach even deeper, how you wish you felt the same.
a toast to the moon - xiao
388 words | @thesteambird 2025 secret santa event
for @milkstore (an extra)
There he sat, cup in hand, golden eyes gazing up at the brightness of the full moon. Having had a few cups, there was a flush upon his cheeks and a slight glassiness to his golden eyes. For some reason, it didn’t surprise you to learn that he was a bit of a lightweight. What was surprising, however, was that he accepted it at all.
It was no secret that the Vigilant Yaksha was dutiful as well as diligent. Even when offered time away from his duties to rest by the great Rex Lapis, it was rare that he took it. He wasn’t fond of you either. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you, you found out later, simply that he had complicated feelings about someone new being appointed to the ranks of Yaksha after so long. He’d only speak to you to relay orders and left it at that.
So when you appeared before him with a bottle of baijiu in hand from Rex Lapis with orders for him to take the day off, you were sure he would decline. But as you spoke, something seemed different. Was it that his shoulders seemed heavier, or the paleness of his skin? Perhaps it was the cold sweat upon his neck. Regardless, without word, he opened his door before you and let you in.
As you poured him a glass, then the second, and third, a part of you wished you were older. You heard many stories of the Archon War, of the Yakhsa, yet they were all but mere legends to you. As he sat there gazing up at the moon, you knew you would never know the horrors he went through. You would never know the friends that left him. You would never know the burdens he beared.
Perhaps that was why you couldn’t bring yourself to tear your eyes away from him. With that flush upon his cheeks and glassiness in his eyes and the way he gazed up captivated, he was beautiful. In your eyes, he was someone strong and steadfast, yet now? He couldn’t look more fragile. Alone. It made you wish you could be someone that could stand by his side, someone he could lean on.
But could you?
All you could do was gaze up at the moon, hoping it could answer.
AN: Takes place before the archon quest, also a late Merry Christmas to @swordfish-ii. This fic is part of @thesteambird's Secret Santa 2025 Event
"Back straight, arms down." The seamstress spoke. Her hand trailed along Furina's back as she took the shoulder measurements. She stepped away, writing the measurement down in a notebook. "There haven't been any changes. Why did you want to get measured again?"
"I just want to make sure everything will fit perfectly," Furina explained. Each word was said with perfect diction to emphasize her point further. It had to be a good excuse.
"Hmm."
Maybe she saw through that lie. She wasn’t a bad liar, so could she see through it already? "It's a very important show. Everything should be perfect." A thought she had already begun to repeat.
"And it will. I just wonder why you are worried about your costume." She walked behind Furina, leaning her head down by her ear as she spoke softly. Each word felt punctuated by the way her hands lingered against her in the name of getting her measurements. "Arms up for me." Her words felt breathy in a way that made it feel as if her words touched her skin as well.
She listened. "It's important for the character. It makes the show." In the show, there were plenty of references to the costume, which had to make things more believable.
"I believe our lovely star here makes the show. It would be perfect without the costume." Another measurement was written down.
"Every single part of the show is important," Furina argued. Her voice shook with how close the seamstress was. “To not give each part of the show the attention it deserves risks it falling apart.”
"That may be true, but focus too much on one part, and then the rest will crumble." The words were slowly spoken, dragging out the sentence and emphasizing each syllable. It brought a chill to Furina's spine. "And we can't have that now, can we?"
"Everything should still be given the attention it deserves."
The seamstress walked in front of Furina. "Every measurement is the exact same. So tell me, why did you come to get your measurements taken today?"
"I already told you."
"I've seen you act on stage. You can be more believable than that." Furina wondered if all she knew how to do was tease. Was this all that she would have to expect from her? There had to be more to her. She hoped she was doing a good job hiding the pout that desperately wanted to make an appearance on her face.
"I have no clue what you're talking about. As the Hydro Archon, I can have you sentenced for slander if you keep this up."
The seamstress held out her wrists. "Okay. Arrest me yourself. If I have committed slander. I can accept a punishment from you."
Oh, why was her face so hot hearing that? This woman was going to end her.
"Go on. You can even bind my hands with the measuring tape til you can have a guard bring cuffs." She let the roll of measuring tape drop, showing off the length. A clear dare for her to commit to the words she spoke.
Why was her heart beating so fast?
"I have important things I need to." Furina tried to find some ground to stand on. Things to make her and her time seem important and to be taken seriously. "Seeing as my measurements for this show aren't being taken seriously, I'll be off. I have a very important meeting with our judge that I can't miss, nor will I put off for this behavior."
She stormed out, beating herself up in the head all the way to Neuvillette's office. Her meeting had been completely run off its tracks as she recounted what had gone down.
He took a sip of water, doing his best to push back the oncoming headache. He may not fully understand humanity, but he had been aware of the obvious. "Lady Furina, I am trying to discuss a high-profile trial with you. I understand it may feel world-ending to be teased by that seamstress, but she is no reason to keep changing the topic at this moment."
"That's the part you aren't getting. How am I supposed to be taken seriously if she only sees it fit to tease me?"
He was almost worried that she would bump her head with how dramatically she flopped onto the couch in his office. "Forgive me if I come to be wrong later, I do think that seamstress teases you because she does take you seriously."
Written as a part of @thesteambird's Secret Santa 2025 Event
xiao x reader
↳ a quiet evening and careful hands
You pretend to wash the napa cabbage, even though it’s already spotless. The real work is watching him—memorizing the quiet confidence in the way his hands move, the smooth rotation of his wrist as the knife rises and falls in a steady rhythm. His forearms flex with each precise cut, deliberate and practiced.
You know his hands were once asked to do far crueler things than this, and you know he carries that knowledge with him into every quiet night. But here, in the soft hum of the kitchen and the clean simplicity of preparation, you let yourself believe this is what they’re meant for now.
No words pass in the quiet space between the two of you—just the sound of the running faucet and the rhythmic clicks of the knife against the cutting board. He finishes his assignment, and you finish pretending to wash the cabbage.
“Can you do the apples next?” you ask sheepishly. “I always make them wonky.”
He makes a disapproving sound but circles around the counter to retrieve the apples. He indulges you far more than he should. Every time. His brows furrow in concentration as he carves ears into the rabbit-shaped apple slices you insisted on having. Slice by precise slice, they make their way onto the plate like neat little rabbit soldiers reporting for duty.
“There. Done.” He sets the knife down with a soft clink. “Humans and their time-wasting rituals.”
You love it when he grumbles. It’s sweet—almost domestic, in its own defensive way. You pick up a slice and offer it to him, nudging it toward his mouth. He blinks, feigning confusion, but leans down anyway and takes a bite. You notice the corner of his lips lift at the taste as he finishes the rest of the slice.
You decide you like him like this—soft under the kitchen lights, in the ugly sweater you picked out, sleeves pushed up, pretending not to enjoy himself. You make a mental note to order a few more sweaters from your tailor in Mond. Maybe a pink one. It would clash terribly with his hair.
He surveys the surroundings and nods in approval. All the ingredients have been washed and prepped, the dishes and utensils set out, the dining room decorated with holiday knickknacks. The two of you did a spectacular job, and all that’s left is to wait for the guests to arrive.
Seeing there’s nothing left to be done, he turns back to you. “Remember—call my name if you need me,” he reminds you, in the same tone he always uses.
“Yes, yes. Adeptus Xiao,” you echo, rolling your eyes. “Nothing’s going to go wrong, worrywart. But if I accidentally start a fire when I turn on the hotpot burner, I’ll be sure to call you so you can come put it out for us.”
The corner of his mouth twitches—barely there—but it counts. He gives you a mildly unimpressed look that you cherish anyway. And then, like he always does, he flickers out of sight.
In the empty kitchen, the appliances hum a lonely, tuneless song. You glance at the plate of rabbit apples he worked so hard on.
“Maybe next time you’ll stay for hotpot,” you murmur to the empty air.
Word count: 585
banner art: BINAENG
For @ebi-samaaa
Words: 943
Character: Zhongli
For: @painom i hope you like it (T△T)~
“Many stories and tales of Liyue are, when studied closely, stories of people visited by their deity at some point — and the citizens of Liyue are most proud indeed of that history.”
Dusk was approaching as the sun began to disappear behind Mt. Aocang and Qingyun Peak. But you had no time to spare.
You were trudging past some ruins beyond Jueyun Karst, hoping to make it to Yaodie Valley faster. But your exhaustion was catching up to you, and it was slowing you down. Travelling from Liyue Harbor to Yilong Wharf on foot was no joke. But escaping the burden of being who you were, as a bankrupt merchant’s daughter, was far more pressing. Thus, you wanted to start anew. If you ever get on that ship heading to Fontaine, you vowed to never look back.
Reaching the peak of a small hill, you watched traces of the setting sun. Every step you took was one step away from Liyue. Your home, and everything you had ever known. The very thought of leaving made your heart stir with hesitation.
A gentle breeze carrying the faint aroma of burning sandbearer and something fragrant brought you back to earth. A little farther up, you saw smoke curling into the air.
Despite your aching feet, you rushed through the stone gates, following the smoke. You felt drawn to the scent.
It smelled like home.
Little did you know you would cross paths with the Lord of Geo, disguised, who was in a predicament of his own.
A figure in commoners’ clothes was hunched over the bushes yonder. Crystalflies fluttered over a patch of shrubs underneath a tree. A pot hung from a spit, gently rattling over a crackling fire surrounded by baskets of dried herbs, flowers, and a tea set.
The entire set-up felt cozy. Before you knew it, you collapsed on your knees, out of breath. When the figure turned, you were surprised to hear a young man asking, “You seem weary. Why not rest for a moment, with a cup of tea?”
It was not long before you found yourself huddled on a rock with a teacup in hand. You watched the young man tend to the fire with a stick.
“I’m trying to get the temperature right, you see. To get the right taste.” In the firelight, his eyes glinted like polished amber. “In a few minutes, this concoction of silk tree bark, jasmine, and glaze lilies will be ready. In the meantime…”
He spoke about tea as if he knew it all like the back of his hand. While most of it actually went over your head, you listened, immersed in his passion. You somehow felt at ease in his company. When the ripples settled after he poured you a cup, the full moon reflected on the tea’s surface.
Your heart had been heavy with the weight of your decision. After days of travel, you longed to speak. You had to ask someone.
The young man felt like safe company. Perhaps…
“Do you—” You cleared your throat. “Do you think leaving and starting over is the wrong choice?”
The young man looked up from the flames.
Everything came spilling out. Saving face as their family paraded around Liyue Harbor with the arrogance of having Mora was one thing. The final straw was overhearing your father beg an older businessman to take you as his fourth wife. In a whirlwind of emotions, you set out on your own after trading some of your prized possessions. And miraculously, after traveling alone, no harm ever came your way.
Yet Rex Lapis’ protection did nothing to strengthen your resolve about leaving. If anything, it was growing weaker. The creeping homesickness and self-doubt plagued you.
“There is nothing wrong with honoring contracts with oneself, especially if it is something we deem necessary in our circumstances. As long as no others were breached.” He smiled softly. “I cannot condemn you for doing what you think is best for yourself. But if you cannot move forward, I believe taking time to reflect and weigh the consequences would ease your conflicting feelings. ” You held onto his every word, hands shaking. The moon’s reflection rippled.
“It appears that you and I are at the same crossroads. I, too, contemplate leaving something behind.”
When he turned to look at you, his amber eyes were gleaming with a light you could not discern. There was melancholy, but there was also something else, among other things. Resolve. “Over time, I have grown weary. Old friends have gone, the worst of it has passed. There is finally peace. But I am not at ease if I stay. I believe I am no longer needed.”
“No, that’s not true at all!” You realized you raised your voice at this kind stranger, but at the moment, you didn’t care. “Everyone is worthy of living!”
The young man laughed, which confused you. It irked you a little, too. “Do not fret, I am not going anywhere.” He took a sip of his tea. “Silk tree bark. To ease the burden of one’s heart. Jasmine, to calm the nerves. And glaze lilies… to honor a friend.”
“I am truly grateful for your company tonight. It was as soothing as this cup of tea.” You told him, hoping your sincerity would reach him.
The young man looked up at the sky. “I pray we find peace in our choices. May… Rex Lapis guide us.” There was something coy about his smile.
In the morning, you would wake up and only find a glaze lily and a steaming pot of tea on the spot where the young man had been.
@thesteambird's secret santa for @swordfish-ii | i tried to make it cozy and angsty but i'm not sure if i succeeded. i hope you enjoy!
“Do you ever think about what we’d be doing if we were born human?” You asked as you gazed up at the sky. It was beginning to snow now. Not heavily, no. It looked as if snowflakes were fluttering across the sky, dotting the torn landscape.
Xiao followed your gaze as he sat beside where you lay. Wounds and bruises littered his skin and torn were his clothes. The spear in his hand was embedded into the earth, the only thing standing before you both.
“I’ve… never considered such idle musings,” he replied.
He was tired. So tired.
You laughed, though paused midway to cough up the blood threatening to drown your lungs.
“Really? Not once?”
He shook his head. “I don’t see the point in thinking about things that can’t happen.”
You sighed.
“Always so serious,” you pouted. “Well, I like to think about things like that. For example, I bet Brother Bosacius would be a construction worker. Or maybe a blacksmith, you know, with his muscles he’s so proud of and all. And Brother Menogias would be leading the Liyue fashion industry, obviously,” you began, humming in thought. “I bet Rex Lapis would still order clothes from him, even if he was human.”
“I can see that.”
“And Sister Bonanus? I bet she’d be a model for Brother Menogias. Ironic, considering how they ended in this life. I can see her flooding his workshop with all the long pretty dresses she adored.”
“Sister Indarias… I don’t know what she’d be. A business woman, maybe?” You mused. “She was always the fiery type.”
As you spoke, Xiao kept his eyes on the sky, tracing the snowflakes that fell. He didn’t look at the decimated surroundings. Away from his view was your battered body and broken bones. And the memory he held of the frenzied battle against each other just minutes before was out of sight. How you managed to get a brief moment of lucidity from the cancer that was karmic debt was beyond him.
“You… you would be a Wushou dancer,” you began, your voice weaker. “Or some kind of performer part of a troupe, known for your skill and agility. You’d wow the crowds with your acrobatic stunts, I bet. And as for me… I don’t know. Perhaps a normal civilian.”
You coughed again, softer this time. No doubt your eyes would start losing their focus soon. He didn’t have to look at you to know. He’d seen it so, so many times before.
“And somehow… we’d all be friends, even though we’re so different,” you finally said, a smile evident in your voice. “Brother Bosacius would play pranks on you like usual. Sister Bonanus and Sister Indarias would stay up late chatting about makeup. I’d be begging Brother Menogias for a new outfit. Everything… like how it should be.”
It was quiet between you both now as you stared at the sky. It was beginning to snow heavier now. Soon the evidence of your madness would be lost under a blanket of white.
“Do you…” You began, your voice wavering for the first time, even weaker than it was before. There was not much time left now. “Do you think our next lives will be happier? And that… we will all be friends?”
“I… don’t know.”
That’s all he could say. Though your words painted a beautiful picture, they weren’t reality. The truth was often less kind than one would hope for. And the last thing he could do was lie to you. You deserved more than that.
“But…”
If you wanted honesty…
His gaze finally turned back to you. There you lie—bruised and battered, bleeding from your wounds, and still as beautiful as the day he first saw you. But gone was the light from your lovely eyes. You would speak no more.
His eyes shut as he let out a tired exhausted sigh. Then, he turned his eyes back up at the sky.
“If… if it did turn out that way… I suppose I wouldn’t mind.”
You convince Diluc to put down his work and join you for Christmas
Secret Santa with @thesteambird for @paimonial-rage <3
Notes: Modern AU, fluff, Christmas
Word count: 439
AO3 link: [link]
“Oh please, uncle Scrooge!”
A voice interrupted Diluc from the document he was reading.
“Please come dine with us, this Christmas eve feast!” You were sloped dramatically on the door handle of Diluc’s study. He hadn't even heard you come in, completely engrossed with his e-mails. His eyes landed on the clock. Was it this late already?
“Am I your uncle now?” He replied dryly. “I don’t know how to feel about that, to be honest.”
“Not sure,” You snickered. “But if you don’t come down to eat with us, I’m afraid you’ll be visited by 3 ghosts tonight! Adelinde made an amazing feast and people have already started coming in.”
Diluc closed his laptop and crossed his arms, amused enough by your theatrics to engage you a little. “Have you actually read a Christmas Carol by any chance?”
“Uhh–” you stopped your antics, obviously feeling a bit caught. “Well, everyone knows the story don’t they!”
Diluc chuckled and stood from his chair. “Well, then you’d know Scrooge gets visited by 4 ghosts. Not 3.”
His smile widened considerably when he saw you frown, obviously trying to figure out which moment in time there would be other than the past, present and future, not knowing Scrooge gets visited by the ghost of his late business partner first, warning him of what’s to come.
His hand landed on the crown of your head, lightly petting your hair, leading your eyes to widen at his frankly uncharacteristic behaviour.
This was the first Christmas you were able to spend together, you’d been looking forward to it. Not that you hadn't been close enough before, but something had always come in between you two actually celebrating together. Turns out this was a pretty busy time for the winery and with customers all over the world, Diluc would spent a lot of time having online meetings and working overtime. Now he had finally managed to clear out his schedule for the night… Even though he had still gone to his office to wrap up a few things while you were getting ready. You weren't the only one excited by him joining the festivities, all the staff were happily surprised that Diluc would finally celebrate something that wasn't just for business relations.
“I suppose I don’t have to worry about you being punished for lack of christmas spirit,” you huffed, shoving his hand off your head. “Since you’re clearly somewhat affected by it. I might have a chance to see you drunk and merry yet.”
Diluc scoffed. “Don’t get your hopes up. A nice dinner with a glass of apple cider will do nicely enough.”
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This is probably hella OOC since I pushed myself to write for a character I wouldn't normally write for? But I hope it is enjoyable regardless.
Summary: Modern Au! Fem!Reader. A fluffy teacher and student gift exchange with
Words: 561
AN: @thesteambird 's Secret Santa event. For @woofwoofwolf . I hope you enjoy! This was my first time writing him ever, so I hope this comes off in character.
The auditorium slowly emptied after the choir concert as parents and children met up once again for the night. People who stayed behind were talking with teachers, friends, and family members. The bake sale table had begun to just hand out snacks for free trying to get rid of what was left.
The only somewhat chaotic thing that was happening was the choir director who ran around trying to catch parents and children handing out small gifts to her students. A small gesture to show how proud she was of their hard work after completing the performance they had spent months preparing for.
“Sigewinne!” She called out, her pace quickening to catch up with her and her guardian as they approached the door.
The two of them paused their walk turning around to see who had called out her name. Sigewinne was quick to wave hello with a smile.
“I was worried you left already,” Y/N spoke relieved to have caught up. “Your solo went perfectly today.”
“Thank you. I’ve been practicing at home like you asked me to.” Sigewinne spoke proudly of herself.
“It paid off. I don’t think I’ve had the chance to meet your guardian as of yet. Would you mind introducing us?” She asked looking up away from Sigewinne.
“Oh!” Sigewinne let go of his hand. “This is Monsieur Neuvillette and this is Miss Y/N.”
Neuvillette held out his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“You as well.” She shook his hand. “It’s been a pleasure working with Sigewinne. I bring gifts.” She reached into a large almost empty bag bringing a smaller gift bag. The bag was decorated with snowflakes. Some of the goodies inside were peaking out of the top. She handed the bag to Sigewinne.
Her eyes lit up seeing the stickers that peaked out. Plans of the silly variety formed in her head. “Thank you!”
“You're too kind.” Neuvillette thanked her.
“It's just something I remember my teachers doing for me. It just feels right to keep the tradition going. Plus it’s so easy to want to keep the tradition going when you have people like Sigewinne participating. I think some of the other choir students would benefit if they understood practicing in their off time.”
“That’s high praise coming from you. If I remember right, you used to be a vocal coach for some big names. What caused the career switch?” He asked as Sigewinne examined the stickers that were in her bag.
“My cousin had a health scare and while I was helping to take care of his daughter I just found myself enjoying teaching her and her friends how to properly sing. I saw the position open up and I get to do what I love while I get to help my cousin recover. It makes the most out of my situation.” Y/N explained.
“Despite that, I’m glad to have you as her choir director. It has brought me immense joy hearing Sigewinne sing. I do hope you consider staying around after your cousin’s health improves.”
She couldn’t help but smile at the request. “I’m not sure yet but I guess I’ll see where this takes me. I do hope you enjoy the rest of your night. I still have some more gifts to hand out. I hope to see you at the next concert.”
✶ synopsis. — a brief moment in a day spent with with him
✶ featuring. — venti
Written for @thomine
Softly and quietly, his voice drifts towards you. Line by line, verse by verse, a song you do not know, and words you do not speak. But that has never mattered. Music is the language of the soul, and every one of his songs sings directly to yours.
You come to a stop, pausing before the threshold, just out of view of the open doorway. Eyes closing, you savor the song. Each note, each word, the pause between each line, the faint, almost inaudible breaths as he inhales to sing again. These are memories you greedily snatch for yourself – the ones you squirrel away in a special corner of your heart, nestled deep beneath your breastbone, a pile of little secrets just for you.
The song ends and the lyre strums stop. His voice lingers, hanging on the last note before fading to silence for a breath or two.
"I know you're there," he calls out after, his voice light as a breeze, "I should start charging you. I could probably pay my entire tab at Angel's Share with how many private shows I've put on for you."
You walk out brazenly, “Big talk for someone who doesn’t pay rent.”
“Boo!” he pouts, before dramatically throwing his lyre-free arms over his eyes, “You would deprive the most popular bard in Mond a place to rest his head? A place for him to put up his feet, to recover his spirits to face world and all its trails and tribulations?”
“Hey, I wasn’t the one that brought up the topic of payments,” you drawl, “but, I do have an offering to present in return for your song, oh most marvelous bard in all Mondstat.”
His eyes peak out from under his arm, twinkling with anticipation.
“Oh, do tell then! Don’t keep me waiting.”
You gesture to where you came from with a tilt of your head, "I made a pot of mulled wine. And the baked apples are just about ready to come out of the oven."
He springs into movement, a warm hand finding yours, fingers intertwining as he tugs you along.
The wind tickles the back of your calves, urging you to trot just that bit faster back to the oven, where the finished apples sit waiting, golden brown and steaming hot.
You pull the dessert out, and he grabs serving dishes. You scoop an apple for each of you, and he pours two mugs of wine. Then, you both sit down and enjoy.
After, when the plates have been mostly cleared, when the compliments have been given and graciously accepted, when you have been sipping away at your cooling mug of wine, he starts to hum the same song as before.
"That song, where is it from?"
He looks out of the window, where the snow is blanketing the city, settling on top of the statue in the square.
"An old friend of mine wrote it years and years ago," he pauses here, his voice soft, "Songs are all written with the songwriters' feelings, you know. So, to me, they sound most spectacular when you can sing them with the same heart."
He holds your gaze, and you make a request:
"Sing it for me again? I didn't catch the first bit earlier."
He smiles and magics his lyre to his hand. "Sure! I won't even ask you for an apple this time."
I'm holding very tight
I'm riding in the midnight blue
I'm finding I can fly
So high above with you
as your partner, kaveh is obviously invited to your family's christmas party, which means he will be meeting your parents for the first time! how exciting! but is there something else on his mind?
general audiences, fluff (i promise), modern au, not proofread.
links: work tag
note: part of @thesteambird's christmas exchange! this gift is for @andromeda-nova-writing <3 i hope you enjoyed it!
. ⁺ . ˚ ✦ . + ⁺ . ✦
Kaveh knows which house is your childhood home as he walks down the neighborhood with your hand in his. Orange leaks from the translucent glass windows of your house. Chaotic cheers and languid laughter accompanied by the smell of freshly cooked dinner breech the walls to seep into the cold blue night. It is exactly as you described. He can feel the celebration outside.
You are swinging his arm humming a Christmas classic and Kaveh feels guilty he can't resonate with your excitement, especially since tonight is special. You'll normally walk these gray streets alone, rushing towards that familiar door for warmth after a year of working abroad. Today, you're in no hurry.
They're going to love you. You reassured him a few days before, but something else weighs his hand in yours. Kaveh's fears stiffen his entire body, disrupting your climb up the porch decorated in Christmas-themed fairy lights.
"What's wrong?" You ask, jumping off the porch to be on level ground. "You're not having a fever are you?" You raise your free hand to touch his forehead. "Thank goodness you're not, but you're unusually cold. We should quickly get you inside."
"Hold on," he says with panic in his voice. At the sight of your confusion, he adds as casually as he can: "I just need some time to prepare myself." He wipes stray snow sticking on his sweater that you crocheted for him to match with yours. "Okay, I'm ready."
"You sure?" You tilt your head, returning a smile mixed of amusement and gentle concern. "Trust me, my family will love you so much. There's nothing to worry about."
"It is my first time meeting someone's parents, but it's not that." He takes in a deep breath, cold air burning his nostrils and throat, but it's not as troublesome as the words scraping his tongue. "It feels unfair to you, that you are dating someone like me. I can't let you experience things like… meeting my parents, or having extravagant parties for the holidays. The world that you live in is so bright and beautiful, and I'm grateful that you believe I belong in it, but my world is not the same. It's lonely. I have… no joy to share with you."
Kaveh closes his eyes and hangs his head. This has been on his mind, his pride concealing it with a curtain stitched from knowing that you'll love him regardless, but seeing the happiness emitting from your house threw bricks of shame, and he's face to face with this monster of truth.
You reach out for his free hand with yours. Kaveh twitches in surprise, but follows your guidance to cup his hands together so you can encase his freezing fingers in your warmth.
"Kaveh." Your voice is soft, barely audible. You aren't looking at him but the shoes at the entrance.
He leans closer.
"Yes?"
A quiet second passes. His heart is erratic as he anticipates what you'll say.
"Are you implying you're dating my family?"
"W-what? No, of course not. I didn't know about your family until after we started dating."
"That's the point." You turn to look at him, eyes blazing with conviction. "I'm not dating your background or your history. I'm dating you. You don't need to bring anything to the table other than yourself." You pull him close to give him a chaste kiss on the lips. "So what if I won't get to meet your parents or attend fancy parties held by your relatives? After tonight, you're going to be grateful we only need to attend one party every year."
"Will your parents mind my background, though?"
"They will. That's why I warned you they'll love you more than me." You laugh, and Kaveh smiles. "You'll be sick of sweet."
He closes the gap between you and him to give you a hug, pressing his head into the crook of your neck, where he fits perfectly.
"Thank you."
"So, what do you say? Are you ready to taste the best homemade meals in your life?" You ask, patting his back.
"Meals that rival my Fatteh?"
"Never, you know I love you."
"I love you too."
additional note: MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! after all we put kaveh through... he's finally having a sweet, tender moment. no bullying this christmas because he is a good boy and does not deserve angst in his festive sock. only good vibes. hope you like it!
Summary: Words can have so much meaning behind them and that is before knowing how people will interpret the same word differently. It’s a thing that can make simple concepts much more complicated than anyone could have thought it to be. With the things Wriothesley has gone through ‘I love you’ was a sentence that he would rather never hear.
Words: 3,397
AN: @thesteambird 's Uncommon Acts of Love Event. I love how behind we all were on posting and writing for this event. Love that for us lol.
This fic touches on Wriothesley's past and briefly discusses the murder of his adoptive parents. It also goes into the trauma his adoptive parents have caused. If that feels too heavy for you to read at the moment, I recommend you look at The Honor of Trying Not to Step on Your Foot or A Sticky Situation. Both are Fluffy fics that do not approach this topic.
Beta read by @swordfish-ii, @milkstore. Thank you so much for looking over this fic. I appreciate it. Thank you to @paimonial-rage for doing my final check on one of the paragraphs I struggled more with. The three of y'all are the best!!!
Y/N walked into Wriothesley’s office. Her movements were tired and slow. Working a shift on the surface before directly coming to the fortress to work a second took a lot out of her. It wasn't common that she would work back-to-back shifts. She knew her limits. She held on tightly to the staircase rail as she made her way up the stairs.
“Are you in here Ri?” She called out as she went up only to see him sitting at his desk highly focused on the documents in front of him. Knowing him, it was probably accounting paperwork for the fortress he was working on.
He looked up. “I thought you would have left already.” He had only seen her once today which wasn't for long. He was only in the Infirmary to grab some paperwork from Sigewinne real fast. They didn't even get a chance to talk as she was working with a patient.
“I got caught up with something. Ended up staying past when I was supposed to leave today.” She could feel her eyes droop. A yawn took over her. She took her jacket off and threw it on the empty coffee table.
“I can arrange to have someone take you home if you like.” He offered.
She shook her head before moving close to him and taking his lap as her seat. “Just let me sit here till you are done.” She laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.
“I’m working.”
“Work around me. I missed you.”
He sighed. “You can't be serious right now.” He looked down at her. She looked so peaceful cozying up on him. “You know I have a couch in my office for a reason.” He couldn’t bring himself to peel her off of him.
“The couch isn't you. I didn't miss the couch.”
He tried to hide his smile with a sigh. “You are really something else right now.”
“I’m just tired. That’s all.”
“I know that. That’s why you should lie down somewhere comfortable and not sit on me. I wouldn’t want to interrupt your rest just cause I have to work.” He tried to appeal to her sense of reason.
“I made sure to leave your writing hand free. You're interrupting my rest by talking to me right now.”
“This can't be comfortable.” Even though for him it felt extremely comfortable to have her curled up on him. How much he just wanted to give into this.
“Oh, it's very comfortable.”
“What happens when I'm done working?” It was the only opening Wriothesley was giving her to convince him out of his work.
“Just let me nap here for a moment. Figure that out later.” She really was just tired.
“You could just go sleep in my bed.” He offered. “It can't be that comfortable lying up on me while I'm dressed like this. At least let me take some of all these metal bits off of me.”
“I won’t fall for your tricks to get me up.” She lifted her head off his shoulder and moved her arms around his neck. “You aren’t getting rid of me right now.” She kissed his cheek before laying her head back down partially on his shoulder and her arm.
He rolled his eyes. “Is there really nothing I can do here to get you to sleep somewhere comfortable?”
“Accept fate. It’s late, you can’t be working for that much longer anyway.”
“Did Sigewinne tell you I’ve been up late in here?” He asked trying to find a reason he was being used as a pillow even though she would normally go to sleep on the couch in his office if she needed to rest.
“No. Have you been staying up later than normal?” She lifted her head back up looking at him. “Do I need to tell Sigewinne it's worse than we think it is?” Y/N asked with a raised eyebrow as she looked for bags underneath his eyes.
He looked away from her gaze. “You know I’ll be up later if I can’t focus.”
She frowned. “I did say I would just be here asleep on you. You are the one who keeps talking to me. You could have been back to work so long ago Ri.”
“Look it’s just easier for me to get things done when I can focus with no one else is in the room.” He looked back to see her frowning. “I’m fine with you here. I just need some space. Just give me an hour, I promise I can walk you back home or get you somewhere comfortable to sleep here tonight.”
She sighed before agreeing to his simple request. “Okay. That’s fair I guess. Just an hour?”
“Just an hour. Promise.” He kissed her cheek as a way to seal his promise.
“Can I at least have your coat as a blanket?”
“Sure, if it makes you happy.” His jacket was already on the back of his chair.
She placed a quick peck on his lips. “I love you,” Y/N spoke quickly before grabbing the jacket and moving to the couch in the office to make herself at home.
Wriothesley froze up on her words. They were said so quickly and casually like it was natural for her. Those words shouldn’t be natural. A horrible thought ran through his head, ‘was she lying?’
‘I love you’ was a sentence that Wriothesley would rather never hear. He heard that sentence too many times to count as a child. Even to this day whenever he hears that sentence, he would tense up. It was an issue that he knew solely belonged to him.
It was easier to hear that sentence when it wasn’t directed at him. When those words or any form of it was spoken to him, all Wriothesley could think of was when he was a child. It brought him back to when he found out what his adoptive parents were really doing. And on the worst days, he could clearly remember those as the first words they used against him as he worked on freeing himself and his adopted siblings. Their ‘I loved you’ was a clear lie they spoke trying to stop him before fighting to keep their lives.
Having the only people who ever said they loved him being the same people he had to kill twisted his feelings on those words.It was all he could associate those words with. Lies and betrayal. It was all he knew behind those words. He gulped down the air caught in his throat before loosening his already loose tie that suddenly felt like it was choking him.
He could have sworn he worked through this already. Shouldn’t admitting that he wished he could have a happy childhood and that he had a load of trust issues from his childhood be enough not to feel this frozen? ‘I love you’ brought him right back to how he felt as a kid hearing those words for the last time.
“You know Ri, for someone who wanted an hour to focus I hear no writing going on over there. Are you such a math genius that you can just do everything in your head?” She stared up at the ceiling as she curled up under his coat.
He looked over at her with unneeded suspicion. Was Y/N lying to him? Was she just saying that she loved him? What could she be doing in the shadows that would come to light? When would she betray him? He knew it was wrong that those questions were going through his head but he couldn’t stop from wondering. The questions just got louder in his mind. ‘Was she lying?’
The lack of response filled her with more curiosity than worry. She sat up with a quick yawn before looking at him. “You okay Ri?” It was a question she didn’t think too much about when asking. She was blissfully unaware of the effect her proclamation of love was causing.
The warmth in his face looked drained. Warm eyes she would normally compare to a puppy in his time around her since they began flirting now looked cold and calculating. He didn’t look like her boyfriend. He looked more like the Warden of the Fortress of Meriopide. But even that description felt wrong. His eyes felt darker than that. Something that she didn’t know.
She knew she was safe around him but something about how off he looked made her stay put. “Wriothesley what’s wrong? I know accounting is a lot to deal with but I’ve never seen anyone look like they are about to break a pen over some numbers.” Giving him space while she was assessing the situation felt like the best move.
He looked down at his left hand. She was right. The pen actually spilled ink on his hand as well. “I’m gonna go clean this off.” He got up from behind the desk fast. “I’ll have a guard come get you and take you home.”
“Wriothesley? What’s going on?” She repeated the question as she got off the couch leaving his jacket behind, beginning to follow him while also trying to keep some distance between the two of them. Concern was fully flooding in her mind.
They literally just agreed on what was to happen less than five minutes ago. He had already had opened the door to his office to let the guards know the new plan. She was shuffled out of his office so fast they didn't get to talk. And with the sound of a lock on his office door as she was standing on the outside sealed any chance of conversation. That was it.
She didn't even get to know what was wrong. It was all she thought about on the long walk home as she moved in silence with one of the guards escorting her. It was just so confusing. It didn’t help that she was rushed out so fast she didn’t even have time to grab her own jacket.
-
It made the next day awkward for her shift at the fortress. Part of her wanted to be petty and angry at being thrown out so suddenly but she couldn't bring herself to it. It all just felt so off. It was hard to be properly upset when things just felt wrong.
It was honestly a miracle that Sigewinne had let her stay in her thoughts so far throughout the morning. She may be curious about how different Humans are from herself but she wasn't oblivious to when a person needed space. It was also what Y/N was trying to do as well. Give Wriothesley some space. He clearly needed it if she got kicked out so suddenly with no explanation.
There were footsteps entering the infirmary. Y/N knew they couldn’t be Wriothesley’s. His steps were heavy with the weight of his boots and the clank of the clothes as he walked. These steps were much lighter and she could hear heels as well. “Hello girls!” A warm voice greeted.
Y/N looked up from the desk she was giving a quick clean. “What brings you here Navia?” She thought for a moment thinking back at the schedule that was open on Wriothesley’s desk last night. “Wait, you were discussing the optimization of delivery routes for the fortress.”
She sighed. “It was exhausting. I even managed to get a paper cut. We aren’t even done yet.”
“How bad is it?” Sigewinne asked.
“Not too bad. But I needed a break for my sanity.” She looked over at Y/N. “I have no idea what you see in that man. He’s worse to deal with than normal.” She complained.
“He’s still out of it?”
Sigewinne was in the middle of grabbing a band-aid. “I know he wasn’t doing well when I saw him early this morning. I thought you said you hadn’t seen him today.”
Navia came in and sat on the bed. “Did something happen?”
“No, yes, I have no clue.” Y/N let out what she had been holding in. “So yesterday I had a shift above ground and one here. Unplanned, I had a coworker call out sick.” She reminded Sigewinne before she could say anything.
Sigewinne stayed quiet as she brought over the band and a few items to clean the small paper cut.
“So I was tired and a bit clingy. I hadn’t seen him in a few days. I missed him. So instead of going home I went to his office ‘cause it was after dinner, I knew he was going to be in there just doing paperwork.” She explained. “I may have been a tad too clingy but I backed off once he said that all he wanted was an hour to do his work. I gave him a quick kiss, told him that I loved him, took his jacket, and went to get cozy on the couch. I then got kicked out and a guard escorted me home. I still don't even have an explanation for why. He wouldn't even talk to me.”
“That doesn't even make sense of why he's so out of it.” Navia agreed.
Sigewinne finished up with the paper cut on Navia’s finger. “No, it makes complete sense.”
Both of the women raised their eyes looking at each other before turning their confused expressions to Sigewinne.
“He has a hard time when someone tells him that they love him. He doesn’t even like to use the word love.” This was something Sigewinne knew wasn’t her place to explain everything, but it was better than leaving Y/N in the dark. She was one of the few people that he had told his entire thoughts on this too. It took the years of him here and spending time in the infirmary for the two to grow close before he even took up the position he has today. The trust he had within her wasn’t something she’d even think of breaking.
“There's a big difference between a hard time and completely shutting down,” Navia explained.
Y/N sighed figuring out what happened. “I wish he would have just told me.” She slouched. “How upset with me do you think he is?”
“Maybe it's more conflicted?” Navia suggested.
“Regardless I feel shitty. I really do love him. I don’t want to hurt him.” Y/N covered her mouth after realizing she cursed. “I’m so sorry Sigewinne.”
Y/N was normally good about not cursing in front of Sigewinne. It wasn’t like she hadn’t heard cursing before but she appreciated everyone's attempt to keep their mouths clean around her. It didn’t bother her to be honest but for Y/N to curse in front of her confirmed how much what had happened was stressing her out.
“You should go talk to him,” Sigewinne recommended. “Everything I’ve read says communication is essential in relationships.”
“What if he doesn’t want to talk and just kicks me out again? I really didn’t know.” Y/N’s voice was filled with worry yet her words held with the strength of someone who knew at the end of the day it wasn’t her fault for what had happened.
“Then I’ll knock some sense into his head,” Sigewinne spoke trying to lighten her mood.
“How about I come back here when I’m done? That way you know when to go in and talk with him,” Navia offered.
“I would appreciate that.” All Y/N could think of was how to make things as right as she could.
-
Y/N took a breath before opening the office door. At the very least she would get her jacket back if she chickened out.
“I know I requested my lunch to be brought in today but isn’t this a bit early?” Wriothesley called out from above.
Y/N made her way up the stairs. “I don’t have your lunch.” She stopped at the top of the steps. “Can we talk?”
He looked over before promptly looking back down at the paperwork in front of him. “You’re on the clock. I don’t want to interrupt your work.”
“I’m on break and it's been a very slow day.”
“I have work to get done.” He tried using his work as an excuse. Looking over at the papers piled on his desk, the side that contained finished work was piled high. If anything he was probably ahead at least for a few days.
She frowned before glancing around the room. “Where is my jacket? I didn’t get the chance to grab it before I had to leave.” She gently reminded him.
He sighed before placing his pen down. “I put it up. I’ll go get it for you.” Wriothesley got up from behind his desk.
“I’ll go with you.” Taking care of her jacket had to be a good sign at least.
“No need. Just enjoy your break. I’ll have someone go bring it to the infirmary in a bit.” He tried walking past her to the stairs.
She grabbed his arm completely on instinct, something she hadn’t planned on doing. “You should know it’s hard to enjoy a break when I don’t even fully get to know what happened last night. Can we please talk?” She pleaded as she looked at his eyes trying to find thoughts within them. “Sigewinne can only tell me so much.”
He didn't meet her eyes when he took a breath. He felt shame in what he needed to ask. “Are you lying to me?” He desperately needed to know before he could pull those walls back down. They were something that he thought he could have fully down, but now he wasn't sure.
“No. I meant it. I'm not the kind of woman who expects you to say it back immediately but I do need some context on why you shut down on me.” She let go of his arm feeling that he would run away from this. “I don't want to hurt you. But I'm not going to be with a man who refuses to communicate with me on stuff like this.” It was something she hoped she wouldn’t have to put her foot down on.
“How much did Sigewinne tell you?”
“That love is a hard word for you. That you don’t care for it being told to you. She kept it to just that.”
“I think I’ve been pretty open about how I feel about my childhood.”
“You tend to avoid details but I remember what you went through from what you told me.” It was hard for either of them to look eye to eye. Their gazes focused on the floor below them.
“They,” his foster parents, “constantly told us how much they loved us. Showered us with those words till the day I- well, you know.” He wasn’t one to share every single detail of the murder he had committed. It wasn’t something he enjoyed reliving but it would be something he would have to carry with him till the day he dies.
His foster mother lied through her teeth. Hearing her say ‘I love you’ trying to lure him into that false sense of security just for his foster father to cause one of the many scars that were on his body. It haunted him. It probably was the moment that cursed that sentence for him.
“You could have warned me. I wouldn’t have said it.”
“I thought I was ready to hear it by now.” Wriothesley looked out the corner of his eye trying to read her body language.
She sighed before turning to look at him. “Things like that happen and it’s okay. Everyone has days where the things we carry hurt more. If anything I should have backed off and given you space when you asked me to.”
“I was okay till you said those words.”
“I won't say them again then. Not till you’re ready.”
“Did you really mean it?”
“I did. And that means if I have to change how I express that, I will if it means not making you relive something that you don’t want to. I care about you. I want you to remember that.”
He reached out for her hand. “Let’s go get your jacket.”
Y/N couldn’t help but smile as she held his hand. “If it isn’t too much, do you mind if I have lunch in here with you?”
synopsis: whether hand in hand or bloodied and bruised, you would bring ajax home.
ship: childe x reader
notes: 1.2 words. written for the steambird’s uncommon acts of love event
You let out a cry of pain as your body struck the ground. Every part of you ached—your muscles, your wounds, your heart. And yet, once the world around you stopped spinning, there you were struggling to push yourself back to your feet.
He stood before you there with his dull blue eyes and wide smile. And when you glared at him with fire in your eyes, his own narrowed in delight. He loved seeing you like this, he told you many times. When you stood before him with blood dripping down your legs, an eye swollen shut, and a sword gripped tightly in your hand—that’s when you were the most alive.
“Are you sure you don’t want to give up for now? You can barely stand,” He taunted, tapping the blunt edge of his sword against his shoulder.
But you only readied your stance in reply.
“Will you shut up? As if you’re not having the time of your life.”
His grin pulled even wider as he dashed forward to you once more. Like clockwork, your body weaved left and right, his habits and fighting style burned into your memory. In the back of your mind, you wondered how long it took you to reach this state, how many times you’ve been knocked to the ground. Far too many, you supposed.
You lifted your sword brought it down toward his left, but when his met yours, you pulled back and thrusted it toward his shoulder instead. Not much to your surprise, he deflected your sword with ease. You gritted your teeth. How frustrating. No matter how much you trained, no matter how many times you improved, he handled everything you threw at him with ease. It made you simply–
With a roar of anger, you materialized a polearm into your right hand and hurled it toward him. Following closely behind, you leapt up into the air and brought down your sword. It was a rather dirty play, you admitted, but how could you not when, instead of a shout of fear, a bark of laughter erupted from his lips? With a splash of blue, the polearm was knocked to the side and your sword met two of hydro.
“That was different,” he let out breathlessly, life sparking in his eyes. “Did you perhaps come up with that while we were apart?”
You didn’t reply, instead opting to jump back before dropping the sword to materialize your polearm back into your hands once more. With that, you rushed forward, forcing him to defend. The polearm was the weapon you were the most adept with, after all, even though you rarely took it out before him. With everything he put you through, he didn’t deserve it. He knew it too, for as he began to retreat, his cheeks began to flush and an excited smile took life upon his lips.
“Ah, this is why you’re such a delight to spar with, comrade. You always keep me on my toes!”
“Didn’t I tell you to shut up!?”
You knew he loved using his words to aggravate you. It made you more aggressive, more alive. And he loved it. He couldn’t fathom how you could become even more beautiful. But as casual as his words were, these fights were never spars, not to you. And though his words said otherwise, they were never games, not to him. They were things you both took seriously. You promised his father, after all. You promised him you would bring Ajax back—back home.
You still remembered how he used to be before that fateful day he disappeared into the forest. He was a kind and hesitant boy, enamored with the stories his father would tell of legends and heroes of time’s past. During those days, you both would reenact those stories in the snow, sparring with sticks. You used yours as a polearm. He didn’t have a preference. You could beat him easily back then. He didn’t have the sureness in his step as his older siblings.
But then he changed after he was found. Though his younger siblings couldn’t know any better, the rest of you knew it well. A beast was wearing the skin of Ajax. The boy you grew up with was nowhere to be found. As he climbed up the ranks in the Fatui, you hated seeing it, the hurt and regret of his father. And yet, even though he was far beyond your reach, you promised his father you would return with Ajax’s hand in yours.
You ran into him a few days after joining the Fatui. His dull eyes brightened as they did when he was younger upon catching sight of you. He told you he missed you and asked how his home fared. So you told him the truth. You said everything. You spoke of your promise to his father. Then, you told him you would bring him home. Ever the opportunist, he offered you a deal. If you beat him in combat, he would readily return home. But in order to do that, you had to join his squadron.
You agreed.
You climbed the ranks quickly as your skills increased with him as an opponent. It was much to his delight for he was eager to keep you at his side. How much he enjoyed regaling tales of your youths to others around the mess hall table? How eager he was to have conversations with you upon those long ship rides between missions? As much as he loved the thrill of battle, you were his only tie home.
The way he went about it was rather insidious as well. On long road trips to and from bases, it was your shoulder upon which he napped. And during those freezing nights training in Snezhnaya, it was your sleeping bag to which he was drawn. You wouldn’t deny him, you never did as a child. It was a fact he knew well. As loathe you were to admit, his warmth still brought you the same comfort as it did all those years ago. You felt you were home.
In the back of your mind, you knew he did it on purpose. Though he never bothered to hide his bloodlust from you, the way he smiled and threw his arm over your shoulder made it easy to forget the boy he used to be, the one you missed dearly. But that wasn’t his goal—to cause you to forsake the past. He treasured those childhood years as much as you did, after all. But you knew the truth. He wanted you to see him as the person he was now.
So as you stabbed your polearm forward and parried his blades, you ignored the hesitation that sat at the back of your throat. You didn’t think about the way the warmth grew within your heart toward this person. You refused to consider how it felt so wrong.
And as his blades warred against yours, he didn’t address the change you knew he noticed within you. He didn’t mention the way you began to lean into his arms during those cold nights, nor how you’d find yourself smiling and laughing along with his antics. You knew him well. He wouldn’t dishonor your resolve like that.
In the end, you both knew it well. Regardless of anything that would happen, you only had one goal. Whether hand in hand or bloodied and bruised, you would bring Ajax home.
I wanted to start something every two months or so that can help the Genshin writing community come together to work on something fun. What better thing than to do a writing event! This time around, the theme will be:
Writing Prompt: Uncommon Acts of Love
Deadline: March 15, 2024
More details under the cut!
— What is a writing event?
✧ Writing events are special times throughout the year in which people voluntarily join together to write fics inspired by a specific prompt or set of prompts within a set time. Anyone and everyone is welcome to join!
— How do I join?
✧ The process is very simple. You do not need to inform us if you would like to join. Simply write the fic. When you are ready to post it, please add the tag your fic post with "#steambirduncommonacts". Then please DM us the link to your fic so we can feature it on this blog!
— Rules
✧ Works must be strictly sfw
✧ Works must encompass the writing prompt in some way
✧ Works must not contain any sensitive topics
✧ Works must be submitted by the ending date of the event
—If you would like to connect with other Genshin Impact character x reader writers, please feel free to join The Steambird discord server! The link is here! But before joining, please keep in mind the following rules:
✧ While The Steambird events are for those of any age, this server is reserved for only those that are 18 and above.
✧ This is a sfw server, so nsfw material or topics will not be permitted at any time.
The Steambird is a community for sfw character x reader writers in the Genshin Impact fandom.
—What do you offer?
We plan to hold bi-monthly writing events that anyone is able to join. We will also hold collaborations, post writing prompts, and more. We also have a discord people can join to connect with other writers and readers to make conversations and share their craft.
—Do you need to join?
There is no requirement for joining writing events. You do not need to be part of the discord. All we ask is that you follow this blog and post your fics using the tags announced for each event so we can showcase your work on here for everyone to enjoy!
—Are there any rules to taking part in events?
Yes. We ask that:
✧ Works must be strictly sfw
✧ Works must encompass the writing prompt in some way
✧ Works must not contain any sensitive topics
✧ Works must be submitted by the ending date of the event
