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thomine · 2 months ago

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noceur

thoma x reader | 2.6k words | general audiences

miraculously surviving a near death experience should be celebrated except everyone reminds you that you came back wrong. everyone except... the person doing laundry with you late at night. [ noceur: a person who stays up late at night. ]

tags: comes back wrong trope, brief mentions of skipping meals, human resource malpractice, hinted mentions of abuse, blood and injury, near death experience, requested, not proofread

links: read on ao3 ⁎ read on sqw ⁎ author's notes ⁎ prompt list (closed)

note: this was completed during ficwip's retreat weekend! :D

The moment you open your eyes, memories of the previous night flood in.

Chinju Forest was shrouded in perpetual night as always. Luminous blue flowers decorated the river as tall trees let for a spectacular show of spotted moonlight. A beautiful scenery for a run, but you were not running for leisure. Your journey to find your missing father had turned into a chase.

Hilichurls loaded their bows and aimed as you fumbled your way deep into the forest. You tripped on a root and an arrow almost landed on your hand if not for your roll to the side. Before your escape, one of the monsters smashed your femur with its bat. It should have been fatal. It should warn you to return, but the adrenaline worked too well. When you fell, that pain shot through your body like the release of a tensed string. Whiz. Something cold pierced your right shoulder.

You didn't die immediately, of course. You wouldn't let yourself. Your father was still out there. Monsters were not match with his combat prowess, but it was useless against the tricks of the forest from curious bake-danuki or powerful yokai. You had to find him because he promised to tell you about your mother when the time was right. You had to find him because he would never abandon you either.

But even when the monsters left after having their fun, you stayed still. Not a single muscle could twitch.

As you laid, choking on blood and paralyzed by pain, the full moon shone on you like a limelight. You seemed to have drawn a presence, thick and soft fur covering your eyes like a mother's kiss. Accompanying the wind's timeless melody, a voice hums a familiar lullaby…

Beastly creature, no known keeper… Head to toe of fearful features… Plagued by longing like a fever… In solitude, world so blued, full of non-believers…

You sit upright, eyes squinting from the sunset. Raising your hand to block the light—

Wait… You have full rotation on your right shoulder. You can move your leg with no pain.

And the sun… You turn your head to see that you're not in Chinju Forest. Instead, you're a few centimeters beyond the toji gate guarding the entrance. A few hundred meters in is the rock where your search took a turn for the worse. It's surprisingly clear despite the foliage.

A shout runs across the sky. It is faint, but gets louder. The voice calls your name. Soon, you hear rushing footsteps—wooden sandals on cobblestone paths—but it's only after long minutes that a face emerges from the distance. When the lady notices your figure by the gate, you see the relief in her wrinkly smile as if she's standing in front of you. If you remember right, she's the head maid.

"You were missing for 3 days! Thank the shogun the guard on patrol found you," she cries, but as she nears, her light steps morphs into stomps. "Who do you think you are? Running off into the dangerous forest by yourself and making everyone worry? Your father already caused so much trouble with his disappearance, but they say you take after him so—"

She gasps, stepping back with wide eyes full of apprehension. Her hands cover her gaping mouth.

Is there something on your face? You tap your cheeks, your mouth and nose. Nothing stands out to you. Is it your teeth? Did you eat something disgusting and it's stuck in your teeth? Why does she look at you like you have an extra limb!

But her fear vanishes as rage takes over.

"You will compensate everyone for the work you abandoned. Quick, get on your feet." She grabs your wrist while her other hand covers her nose. You try to protest that your search was supposed to only be a day's affair, you definitely didn't plan to go missing, but your vocal chords are strangely strangled. "We have a lot to do before you meet the Lord. Taking a bath being the first."

Doing laundry was not the worse fate of a Kamisato servant, but it was proving to be just that.

The stench of aged bacteria freezes you in place and you still have a few meters to reach the basket of dirty clothes. Thankfully, the Kamisato Estate can afford strong detergent, so the broad pail of soapy water you've prepared fills the room in a clinical aroma peppered with artificial flora scents. You would have complained of its pungent scent if it was not the lesser of two evils.

No one liked laundry but it was an annoyance at most before your disappearance. This new experience was seriously shaking your sense of self. It didn't help that three days after your return, you bent a metal spoon while helping in the kitchen. Just yesterday, you freaked a colleague with your "glowing eyes". The room wasn't even that dark.

You hear your name. It is not said harshly. The surprise compels you to turn your head, apprehension on high.

"Still doing laundry at this hour?" Thoma, the housekeeper and once your close friend, says.

The strong smells of the laundry room must have rendered your senses numb. Usually you'll notice someone sneaking up to you. Guess your empty stomach twisting like a child throwing a tantrum is also an issue.

"Sir Thoma," you greet, giving a quick bow. You try to hide your frown as you do. When the head maid instructed you to do laundry at night, you hoped it decreased your chances of bumping into him. Not that you had—this is the first meeting since your return—but you wanted to be cautious. So much for your efforts. "It shouldn't be strange to see someone washing clothes at the end of the day."

"End of the day?" Thoma chuckles, lightly shaking his head. "It was the end of the day a few minutes ago. I believe you should be asleep at this hour." he continued.

"Did the head maid report of my absence?"

"Surprisingly, she reported a full house."

"She must have saw me take a nap and counted me in," you say closer to a statement than a question. "Either way, you shouldn't fret over a humble servant's duties."

"Why be so formal? I know we haven't seen each other in weeks, but that wouldn't make us strangers."

He walks pass you to pick up the laundry basket. Some soiled pieces fall as he lifts it, but he effortlessly bends and places them back, uncaring for the way it grazes his clothes.

"Please, there is no need." You snatch the basket from him with both hands, pressing it against your body for extra support. You aren't at your full strength and you're not going to make a fool of yourself. "I rested well so I have enough energy to get this done."

However, the proximity send a blast of stench that threatens to burn your lungs. You can't help but free one hand to pinch your nose. The basket tilts. Thoma is the reason why nothing spills on the floor.

"See?" He's almost smug about it."I think my help is very reasonable."

With one tug, he brings the basket at an angle and the clothes drop into the pail with minimal splash. Then, he grabs a chair and a washboard to start scrubbing.

You grab another stool from the stack he took his, placing it on the other end of the pail. In the silence, or as quiet as a night with singing crickets can be, you and Thoma scrub each piece of cloth. To focus on the task, you try to narrow on his scent.

His shampoo is undoubtedly the one people of Inazuma are raving about. Lauded for its strong and lasting aroma, evident by how its mint can rival the smell of dirty laundry at this hour. Still, an earthly and musky odor lingers on him. It is the scent of other canines. It's a mix only Thoma can pull off—

Wait, so what? You dig your hands deeper into the pail of cold water, as if that can cool the warmth in your face.

20 minutes in and you start the feel the effects of hunger. Your hands are shaking. You barely scratch the cloths against the washboard, but that's better than tearing it.

Another 10 minutes and Thoma leaves to change the water. You take a nap, hoping that can help you pull through.

Briefly, you dream of tricolor dango. As you sink your teeth in the snack, you taste a hazy rendition of milk tangled with the unique sweetness from sakura blooms and snapdragons. It's Thoma's signature dango. Another bite can't hurt but you're ripped away, a rude awakening by something tapping your head—

You nearly jump at Thoma. Fear flashes across his face and for a second you're back to the incident of last week. Blood on your nails. A terrifying scream. You didn't know you held them that tightly. Ruckus and chaos before the head maid stepped in and declared a new law for you.

Your stomach grumbles. You deserve it.

After mumbling an apology, you dive into work. Now you have to avoid thinking about how you wish he wasn't here and how you smell the sweet snack from your dreams.

Finally, after an hour and a half, both of you see the bottom of the laundry basket.

"This can't be a normal day's wash," he leans back and groans, wiping his face with his upper arm. "It is making me reconsider bathing twice a day," he jokes, probably noticing your uncanny quietness.

You offer a reserved toothless smile. Some colleagues say your "fangs" make you look terrifying, and scaring Thoma again is the last thing you want.

"No wonder laundry is always done in teams," he adds.

"Sir Thoma," you slow your pace of washing, most of whatever little energy you have directed to thinking of how to phrase your concern. "Why aren't you asleep? I don't take you as a noceur with how you have to wake up at the crack of dawn. Are you here because you pity me?"

"I was on my way to the kitchen when I saw you."

"I didn't know you eat supper."

"I don't. I was going to make a meal for you."

You pause, head hanging low. Thoma was the only person you willingly avoided, and yet…

"I heard the chefs were told not to cook dinner for you, which explains why I didn't see you in the dining hall."

"For a good reason," you say as you resume washing, showing him a delicately wrung towel. "This is only possible because of the head maid's orders."

"Still, it shouldn't be the way to do things."

"So you do pity me."

He calls your name, lovingly yet firmly.

"I don't pity you. I care for you." Thoma places his hand on yours, gently lifting it out of the soapy waters. Your nails are to"I couldn't sleep properly ever since you disappeared. I'm really glad you're back."

You pull your hand away, tucking it behind your back, and look at the floor. Your sharp and odd looking nails are harder to ignore with his as a clear comparison.

It doesn’t make sense. Your colleagues are always giving excuses to the head maid to avoid working with you. What you see in the mirror is a familiar face, but everyone points at you to claim otherwise. How could Thoma look at you in the eye and say the exact opposite?

"Thoma, I don't know if the person you're searching for is in front of you."

His face is scrunched by deep thought. Anxiety squeezes your chest as you wait for his response. Despite your new senses, you still can't read minds.

"I have a few questions for you then," he starts. Your heart sinks, although you fully expect suspicions. "Your father was a guard of the Kamisato Estate, yes?"

"…Yes?"

"You have a very close relationship with him but hardly know anything about your mother."

"Yes."

"You lived and served the Kamisato clan since birth, yes?"

"More like since I was a baby."

"And you wouldn't say no to my tricolor dango, would you?"

"What?"

He dries his hands by wiping on his attire, then unwraps a square box and reveals pink, white, and green glutinous balls pack neatly in a grid. It's messy in presentation, each ball being of a different size. Some are deformed to make way for others. It can't ever pass standards to be served to the Kamisato siblings. Still, there is a waft of freshly melted sugar and you feel heat emanating from it. That's what matters to you.

"Sorry, it's a bit squashed—Don't give me that look. I know you smelled it."

"I thought I was crazy!"

He hands it over as you try not to drool. You excuse yourself to wash your hands before returning, ready to ravenously finish everything.

"I'd have you know I would be insulted that's your criteria of me as a person under normal circumstances ." You chomp on a ball, closing your eyes to indulge in it. It's better than your dream, the flavors richer than you remember it to be.

"So what makes this not a normal circumstance?"

"This is too delicious. More chewing, less talking."

"See?" This time he's smug about it. "You're still the same person I know."

He grabs the remaining clothes in the basket and dumps them in soapy water. He doesn't start immediately though, his eyes lingering on you enjoying his dish.

Is there something on your face? Maybe you have dango around your mouth. Do you look silly gobbling his food? Why does he look at you like that? Fondness in his bright green eyes pairing with a smile so genuine it makes you giddy.

You hope your erratic heartbeat is not echoing in the room like how it is in your head. The detergent is suddenly more manageable than Thoma's scent.

He finally returns to the laundry, splitting the remaining amount in half. That prompts you to share your last tricolor dango which he accepts. With his hands buried under the water, he opens his mouth for you to plop a ball. With the box emptied, you join him, able to scrub with newfound strength.

"I can cook you something tomorrow. What would you like to eat?" he asks after swallowing the sweet.

"You'll be going against the head maid's orders. I don't want to cause you trouble."

"It's more trouble to deal with a hungry and irritated you than an angry head maid."

You did almost hurt him today…

"I'll try to do the laundry earlier too," you comment when he yawns, throwing the last cloth into the pile of cleanliness. "I'll be in bed before you so you have no excuses to make midnight trips to the kitchen."

He smiles and you mirror him, teeth and all.

"Great. Then we can definitely get it done on time for a good night's sleep, right?"

You don't protest, an answer of itself. A warm fuzzy feeling tumbles in your chest at the thought of doing laundry with Thoma tomorrow.

Once everything has been cleaned and hung, you bid him goodbye.

As you pass by a window, the bright full moon catches your eye. In the distance is the canopy of Chinju Forest. You recall that terrifying night. Your eagerness to reunite with your father. The strange comforting presence just before you awoke.

The wind sings that lullaby.

The last verse creeps into your mind as a distant memory of your mother singing to you.

But the wait will not make you weaker… Dream a dream little dreamer… Soon you shall meet with your seeker

additional note: as you can tell i'm not the best songwriter out there... thank you so much for requesting this! i know it's deviant from what you requested, but i hope you like it nonetheless!

#genshin reader insert #genshin impact reader insert #genshin impact x y/n #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #thoma x y/n #thoma x reader #thoma x you #slo.w #oneshot:ff4f72

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thomine · 2 months ago

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POST-FIC TALK: noceur

Basic Stats

Total Words (including drafts): ~6,800 words

Time: 8 months and 2 weeks (Request received: 29 July 2024)

Deviation from Original: 3/5*

*deviation from original is on a scale of 1-5, 1 being there was no change and 5 being it was completely changed.

⠀

How did the story develop?

*Check’s note* The previous summary was… “You were not someone who liked to stay up at night. That is until you died. Or you think you did, except you’re still here.”

This story was such a ride, LOL.

I know the request was simple—Thoma or Reader being a night owl and the other being concerned—but the more I thought about it, the more I was wondering… why?

Why was either of them a night owl? Why would the other care? And then it spiraled to this.

Broad strokes that did not change through iterations / drafts:

Reader transforming after an unfortunate encounter in the forest in subtle yet unique ways.

These transformations were the reason for mistreatment.

Reader working at the Kamisato Estate since a young age.

Reader's father disappearing after entering Chinju Forest.

Reader's mother being some creature of the forest.

I don't really see Thoma being someone who stays up late at night, so Reader had to be the catalyst or the cause of his "unusual" behavior. Initially, Reader was awake at night because the changes made them nocturnal. Due to their mother being a creature of Chinju Forest, they were unusually drawn to the forest, finding solace from their day's affair by sitting by the toji gate but also unwilling to enter because of fear from the near death experience.

The fic would then have Thoma approach and coax Reader back to bed. Quite in line with the request. Thoma was someone who reader knew in passing, but these frequent nightly talks would make them both realize how similar they were. At first, I thought this idea was a great idea! I thought the two were a good parallel, but nothing seemed to work? I didn't write any notes so I don't know what previous me was thinking. Still, the fact I can't recall a concrete point of their similarity is probably evidence the idea was not that great.

Since I was stuck, I took a break from this fic for a while. Returned to it from time to time to see how this story can be expanded, but ficwip's retreat weekend helped me lock in.

⠀

What were some interesting changes?

Laundry was never meant to be significant. As mentioned, it was supposed to take place outside the estate, near the forest. However, I was thinking if Reader would be punished, and that's how laundry came into the picture.

⠀

How did the relationship between Reader and Thoma evolve?

As Reader and Thoma being parallels didn't work like I thought it would, I started exploring the idea of "Came back Wrong." I think that was what I hoped them to bond over in initial drafts. Reader coming back to their "home" having been changed with Thoma going back to Mondstadt having been "changed". Somehow that didn't stick and it ended up being about how despite someone changing outwardly, it was their inner self that mattered, haha.

Thoma and Reader's relationship was supposed to loosely mirror Reader's father and their mother. How their mother was seen as a beast yet their father saw them otherwise.

⠀

What was the hardest part to write?

Honestly? The hardest part of this fic is the ending. Even though I struggled with the middle / second part of the fic, at least there were the start of some threads to follow. However, the ending was entirely up in the air. At least I knew it had to end on a good note.

When I did pull through the middle, enough to understand how the ending could go, it still didn't sit quite right? The ending I envisioned was awkward and strange. Somehow, after I took a fat nap (as it was 2AM and I couldn't stay awake anymore, lol), I wrote some words and the problem fixed itself. Or at least the scotch tape worked in making everything feel… not shitty! Haha.

Overall though, I'm surprised? I really wasn't expecting this story to go this way. I hope the requester is fine with it.

#.f

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thomine · 2 months ago

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if anything happens to tumblr, my ao3 /squidgeworld is still up. will probably set up an email or something.

if not you can also find me on The Steambird Discord Server. (find more info @/thesteambird)

my carrd is also k-nich.carrd.co and links will be updated.

#.s #heard some stuff so jic ig #may try bsky but i like tumblr’s sideblogs :/

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thomine · 4 months ago

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things i will post before i can peacefully let go of this blog:

slo dynamics

uncommon acts

seraphiism 23/24 writing event

rare words requests (12)

au august remainders

confessions & clarity will be orphaned. angstpril will be completed on ao3. spotify requests orphaned as well.

#.s #.dl #watch me take 10 years #no wait let me not prolong my departure #hu tao wld not agree with delaying the inevitable (my girl!!!!!!)

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thomine · 5 months ago

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Merry Christmas/ Happy Holidays! Thank you for all the beta reading and willingness to hear my OC rambles this year — I really appreciate it :,)

i loooove oc rambles! very happy to hear it :) belated merry christmas / happy holidays to you too! i hope your 2025 has been going well. hope to beta read more of your works (great admirer of how your writing has matured) and more ocs!

#.a #can i just say u r skilled in all the areas i wanna be skilled in HAHAHA #music art & writing… triple threat in the house!!!#happy to have met u hehe

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thomine · 5 months ago

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thank you so much for the detailed response! i will respond below the cut. sorry for the long wait! life got busy and i ended up postponing that.

i am so happy you enjoyed it! i have to say that this fic wouldn't be possible if it wasn't for you. thank you for reblogging and talking about your blorbo because it gave me more insight to her as a character. (let's just say the muse was not musing for a very looong time.)

i am happy that you caught how the story is told through oz. when i was generating ideas, since i knew i couldn't be as theatrical as fischl, i thought it would be fun to explore fishcl and reader's relationship through a third party. oz being fischl's eyes during her investigations was a primary inspiration. i like how you phrased it: reader and fischl are, in some sense, performers to oz.

something else i'm really happy you caught was how reader's first dialogue in the story was towards fischl; a declaration even. i intended to make fischl "mute" in this story since i knew i didn't have what it takes to write in her voice, but that somehow expanded to being intentional with reader's first dialogue.

about fischl and reader's dancing skills... i wouldn't say she saw reader as ready for the stage, but i gathered from her character that she was always putting a performance for others (not necessarily in a bad way; she just knows there will be an audience). because of that, i assumed that... she would be quick to jump on the idea that what reader prepared was for other to see. i also wanted to touch on the idea that fischl has always been the one being theatrical for others but she probably did not consider herself an audience for someone else, so reader's words were probably the first for her too.

and lastly, about the ending, it was supposed to mirror how oz saw reader at the start. or parallel? oz started the story confused at why reader danced: it's brash, unprofessional, and raw -- in a "not polished" sense. that's what 'balter' means. but through being a spectator and understanding the purpose behind reader's intention, the dance, with no drastic change, is suddenly pleasant. i wanted to sort of link it to the idea of perfection. what you are doing may not be perfect in standard to something else, but if you know why and what you are doing, then the standards to compare is no longer that 'something else.' in this case, that 'something else' is the bards or performers along the streets of mondstadt, the nation of music and song. to reader, that 'something else' they want their dance to be measured against is fischl's approval. and i'm glad you picked out that phrase where fischl talked about courage and perfectionism, because i wanted reader's conviction in their dance to be a sort of leaping board for ficshl to find even more courage in herself.

you've pointed out so many parts of the story, sharing your reaction and that really makes me so happy. i'm also so happy to read that you enjoyed it. sorry (again) that i took so long to respond. life got busy!

balter : to dance gracelessly, but with enjoyment ft. fischl

pair: fischl x reader info: general audiences, canon universe, not proofread word count: 1.3k links: prompt list (req closed) note: requested by @dkniade (thank you!) i hope i did one of your favourite character justice!

As the respected familiar of Prinzessin der Verurteilung, Oz, the Raven Knight, has little say in matters related to where he goes for investigations. It is not him to question the superior instructions of the one he serves either, so he normally ignores any patterns that might pique his interest… But it is challenging to put aside a fourth occurrence in a week. At his altitude, as he soars across a flat mountain top west of Mondstadt, your Adventurers' Guild attire paints you as a geeen speck accented with red. If he wasn't experienced, he would have mistaken you as a violently shaken valberry bush.

You are flinging your arms, twisting your hips, tapping your feet to an obscure rhythm, displaying a raw and energetic performance he wouldn't pay tickets to see.

However, it isn't only him who sees you. Oz is not an ordinary familiar. He acts as the Prinzessin's eyes, and she can't take them off your baltering figure.

He may find no joy in seeing you dance, but the Prinzessin's feelings influence his wings to descend. He rests on a nearby rock behind low bushes, a good distance to notice the details of your expression given his sharp eyesight yet not disturb your performance. He watches intently for the Prinzessin's sake, and when you wrap up your session, Oz flies to Stormterror's Lair to start the Prinzessin's commission.

"Congratulations, Fischl, for another report full of praise from your previous commissioner. He said the information you've collected was perfect." Katherine, the representative of the Adventurers' Guild, places a pouch of mora on the table for the taking. Oz's milady strikes a pose she practices behind the mirror every morning, her victory laugh a show of her strong diaphragm.

She accepts Katherine's praise in that creative way of her's, talking about how a royal such as her will always deliver, the years of traveling worlds is another reason for her quality of work.

Katherine claps with a friendly stiff smile pasted across her face. She is probably one of the few adventurers who can understand his milady's unique speaking patterns, leaving him a spectator. A role he doesn't mind and often finds respite in. It is in these moments of tranquility that Oz likes to take a look around them, observing the citizens strolling by, noticing the clouds ahead, and listening to the gentle breeze. He spots you near the plaza's fountain. You are at the ledge, tossing golden mora into the waters.

After their polite conversation, Fischl does a few more poses to celebrate her successful commission and snags the bag of mora with eager eyes.

As her mouth drools, Oz's milady goes to great lengths to ask if he wants a bite at Good Hunter, to which he accepts. It has been a while since they could rest on evenings since that is the time you dance. But today, you weren't there.

They are about to enjoy their snack when Fischl stops short at the stairs leading to the eatery. Her eyes land on you just as you get off the ledge.

You wave, a wide grin on your face. The Prinzessin turns to Oz with panic in her eyes. She may have practiced her greetings but she was not prepared to face you. In fact, she never believed she could after that incident where she criticised your dance. She really just meant you had to improve in order to be at the stage!

"I never said I wanted to be on the stage," you said then, a forlorn look on your face. "It was meant only for you."

Since then, you never brought up dancing. You weren't in your usual spots either. Fischl would accept extra investigation commissions as an excuse for Oz to take the skies and search Mondstadt for you.

The relief she felt when she saw you dancing freely with tall blades of grass…

Oz doesn't understand you. He understands why his milady made such comments. Your dancing skills aren't anything impressive. Clumsy even. But whenever he stopped to watch your performance, the Prinzessin observing through his view, in such a state their feelings blended and he felt affection—a warm thing in his feathery chest.

His milady emits a nervous laugh, eyes darting left and right for an escape route but it's too late. Ecstasy fuels your legs and you're faster than Oz remembers. Must be all that dancing. In seconds, you've skipped through the flight of stairs and land in front of the Prinzessin.

"Fischl, milady!" You greet, bowing. "The wishing fountain really does work!"

The Prinzessin's mouth hangs open, but she is quick to recover with a comment on how royals like her don't neglect the wishes of their people. She is flushed, nervous, but you laugh and smile even brighter. There is desperation in the way you gingerly grab her hands, which she welcomes. As you invite yourself to interlock with her fingers, she doesn't withdraw. In fact, her face reddens.

"I've been looking for you, but Katherine said you've become exceptionally busy."

She then goes on a spiel about the expected bustling life of someone as herself: traveling, adventuring, and discovering. Due to her lifestyle, she is hard to catch, so you should be grateful that you have been graced with her presence aligning with your need to see her.

"She means, 'Why are you looking for me?'" Oz says.

"It's not something really important…" your enthusiasm falters, eyes deflating to fall to the floor. "But I hope you can see it still. It wasn't right of me to just walk out that day, but… come, I'll show you."

The Prinzessin looks at Oz for help, but Oz knows better than to speak. Plus, since her fingers are interlocked with yours, when you pull her towards the gates of Mondstadt, she—who doesn't want to let go—has no choice but to follow.

Oz flaps his wings, following in tow. Past the bridge, milady catches up with you and an easy conversation flows. She asks how you've been in her own unique way, adding hints for you to ask how she's been which you take. It's about the halfway mark that Oz knows where you're taking the Prinzessin, the route all too familiar.

Not long after, you're on your stage far away from civilisation. In the stretch of grass, it is just you, your milady, and Oz.

"I did my best to improve," you shyly start. You point at a rock that Oz lands on to watch your covertly. You've removed the bushes so there will be no discomfort. "You were embarrassed with other people watching as well, so I thought this would be the best place."

Milady loses a bit of her personally pointing out your efforts to improve. You nod and take a few steps back.

"Would the Prinzessin indulge with me, letting me entertain her for this fleeting moment?"

A small smile graces the Prinzessin's lips. She had shared with Oz one sleepless night that she didn't hate your dancing. It was beautiful in an imperfect way. It was admirable how you didn't care for those who looked at you with weird stares, how you were so assured with your choice to dance despite what others said. It was a confidence she craved, something she told herself she had but on such nights she wondered if she did.

That day, when you told her you only danced for her, it struck her how you were the way you were towards dance because nobody else mattered to you.

She shouldn't have been embarrassed, but she was. And her embarrassment cut deeper than she expected.

She had so many people to prove while you only wanted her approval. Perhaps… she only had a small few to prove too.

Milady then watches as you fling your arms in the air. There is no music, no rhythm, and nothing's really changed from the way you danced in that messy style of yours, but for once it isn't the Prinzessin seeing through Oz's eyes.

Through her eyes, Oz notices the subtle beauty in your authenticity. And as the sun sets a beautiful orange backdrop as your stage, there is only Oz, Fischl, and your confessional moves.

author's note: as you can tell i kind of gave up with fischl's way of speaking lol. i'll tackle that bump when i get to it... another day... for now, since this is a writing prompt i won't tear my hair off for it, haha...

#.f #i love seeing you on dash :) i'm so happy you like what i write #and i am glad this helped you find your way to the mundane :3 the mundane is beautiful. come join me <3

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thomine · 5 months ago

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law of lovers

kaveh / reader | 694 words | general audiences

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?

tags: 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!

#genshin x reader #genshin reader insert #genshin impact reader insert #genshin impact x y/n #steambirdsecretsanta #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #kaveh x reader #kaveh x you #kaveh x y/n #slo.w #warmup:f0cc84 #lol : kaveh #can u tell i never had a cold christmas. dont perceive me….

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thomine · 7 months ago

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I Want to Die But I Want to Eat Tteokpokki by Baek Se-hee

#.+#icmtbl : kaveh

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thomine · 7 months ago

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haha. yeah

#.+#itnot : wanderer #q ed

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thomine · 8 months ago

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balter

fishcl x reader | 1.3k words | general audiences

balter: to dance gracelessly, but with enjoyment.

tags: canon compliant, not proofread.

notes: prompt list (req closed) :: requested by @dkniade (thank you!) i hope i did one of your favourite character justice!

You are flinging your arms, twisting your hips, tapping your feet to an obscure rhythm, displaying a raw and energetic performance he wouldn't pay tickets to see.

However, it isn't only him who sees you. Oz is not an ordinary familiar. He acts as the Prinzessin's eyes, and she can't take them off your baltering figure.

She accepts Katherine's praise in that creative way of her's, talking about how a royal such as her will always deliver, the years of traveling worlds is another reason for her quality of work.

After their polite conversation, Fischl does a few more poses to celebrate her successful commission and snags the bag of mora with eager eyes.

They are about to enjoy their snack when Fischl stops short at the stairs leading to the eatery. Her eyes land on you just as you get off the ledge.

"I never said I wanted to be on the stage," you said then, a forlorn look on your face. "It was meant only for you."

The relief she felt when she saw you dancing freely with tall blades of grass…

"Fischl, milady!" You greet, bowing. "The wishing fountain really does work!"

"I've been looking for you, but Katherine said you've become exceptionally busy."

"She means, 'Why are you looking for me?'" Oz says.

Not long after, you're on your stage far away from civilisation. In the stretch of grass, it is just you, your milady, and Oz.

Milady loses a bit of her personally pointing out your efforts to improve. You nod and take a few steps back.

"Would the Prinzessin indulge with me, letting me entertain her for this fleeting moment?"

That day, when you told her you only danced for her, it struck her how you were the way you were towards dance because nobody else mattered to you.

She shouldn't have been embarrassed, but she was. And her embarrassment cut deeper than she expected.

She had so many people to prove while you only wanted her approval. Perhaps… she only had a small few to prove too.

Through her eyes, Oz notices the subtle beauty in your authenticity. And as the sun sets a beautiful orange backdrop as your stage, there is only Oz, Fischl, and your confessional moves.

#genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x y/n #genshin x you #genshin impact reader insert #fischl x reader #fischl x you #fischl x y/n #slo.w #warmup:f0cc84 #ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh. this was a fun prompt regardless!!!#it's like a discount ver. of what i was trying to go for #bc i just couldn't get her character right....#i hope you enjoy! feedback is always welcomed :) good or bad!]

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