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#foul legacy
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Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh concept :000
Harbinger!Reader
That's it that's the ask ajsdfklakjdwobdisdhosdbs
OOOOOOHHHH OH THAT'S A GOOD ONE OMNOMNOMNONM
you're the Fair Lady's replacement, a good fit too, with your calm and reasonable demeanor- perfect for diplomacy, perhaps even better than the late La Signora herself in that category. while you can't say that you're rivals or at odds with any of your coworkers, you certainly aren't close to them either; you're all very private people, preferring to work alone, which is fitting since you all have different duties corresponding to your rank. so no, you can't say that any of the other Harbingers are your friends
well. except, maybe, for Tartaglia
the Eleventh began pestering you the moment you joined the ranks, asking you to spar or train or help him with weaponry. why? who knows. your expertise lies in negotiating and forging connections with other nations, mostly for Snezhnaya's benefit of course, not battles or sparring, and you tell him as such. eventually he does settle down but still sticks to you like glue when both of you are at Headquarters, talking your ear off as you listen and in return allowing you to speak the few words that you have to say- to be frank, you find his stories much more interesting than your relatively routine Harbinger duties, yet whenever you do speak up Tartaglia hangs onto your every word, deep azure eyes wide and earnest
he even trusts you enough to show you Foul Legacy, the monstrous Abyssal creature ironically sweeter and gentler than his human counterpart, delicately sniffing you and nuzzling his face against your hair with a soft purr when you first meet. he's vaguely aware of how dangerous Tartaglia's work is so Legacy ALWAYS frets over you when you're gone, even if Tartaglia repeatedly tells him that your job is not the same as his, and immediately when you return to Snezhnaya you're pulled aside by a certain ginger-haired Harbinger, a goofy smile on his face as he squeezes you tight before willingly relinquishing his body to Foul Legacy, who immediately bumps his forehead against yours and rumbles in delight. he loves listening to you speak, so he tugs you onto his lap and nudges your hand until you tell him about your travels, voice calm and steady as he absorbs every word you say, somewhere deep in Zapolyarny Palace <3
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enesfwee · 4 months
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master and disciple
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sora2396 · 4 months
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Ready?
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fenkko · 5 months
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shouki no kami x foul legacy... (dog and its flea)
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tartar-sous · 8 months
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"tasukete svarog-! wait a minute.." (2023)
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c6jpg · 5 months
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CHILDE in Chapter IV Act V: Masquerade of the Guilty
bonus:
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purrwinkleazure · 5 months
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The Fowl Legacy
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daylite-writes · 3 months
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Welcoming Legacy (It welcomes you) - SAGAU ft. Foul Legacy Tartaglia
Ever since you woke up in Teyvat, you’ve been… confused. The memories of your previous life fading, leaving you to wander. One thing was for certain though, the people here despised you for the face you wore. That was, until waking in the Snezhnayan wilderness after another death, a certain abyssal harbingers saves you from the cold.
cw: imposter au SAGAU shenanigans, temporary death, hyperthermia, passing out, not very yandere (but from his perspective it definitely would be), hurt/comfort, Capitano cameo! Written to be x reader ish, but it’s vague and ur kinda cold so can be read as Romantic or Platonic! Will be tagging as both lemme know if it shouldn’t be.
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~~~
It’s almost funny, you think, how he’s the one who reconsized you first.
No. Not recognised. This was the first time you’d met any of them. The vision holders, the ‘characters’ that you once fawned over and held very dear. They wouldn’t know your name, your face—except for the fact they did. And they hated you for it. “Impersonator”, “Heretic”, “Damned”, “Witch.”
They all looked at you as if you’d committed a grave crime. A slight that could not be forgiven. But how could you have? You were given this name, and born with this face.
And yet you were hunted. And yet you were killed. Arrow through the heart, spear through the back, claymore to the ribs. The pain was unbearable, but death wasn’t the end. Each time you closed your eyes, hoping for an end to the nightmare, you awoke somewhere new.
You recognized the landscape from hours spent playing the game, and quickly learned to avoid settlements, villages, and most importantly, vision holders. The pain of death was too much, leaving your body trembling with sobs and quietly pleading to whatever force put you on Teyvat to just let you go home.
After the fourth death—at the hands of an electro charged spear, courtesy of a certain mahamantra—you woke up, shaking uncontrollably. Only this time, not from phantom pains or the emotional toll of death. This time, is was due to a heavy, bone deep, unnatural cold.
Snezhnaya.
Of course it had to be Snezhnaya.
You whimpered, cursing your luck. This would be a slow, painful death if you couldn’t find shelter and fast.
Stumbling to your feet—bare, the clothes that stayed with you after death did not include them—you looked around pitifully. A snowy forest. Beautiful, but useless, and hard to see far in. You’d never been to Snezhnaya in game either, so there was no way you’d be able to find shelter. Pitifully, you dragged yourself under a tree, curling into yourself under the pine’s branches, hoping it wouldn’t be too painful. Achingly, you let your eyes close, waiting for the next place.
Only, before the cold took you, a rumbling call broke through the tranquil silence of the forest.
Blearily, you opened your eyes. Some kind of beast? It wasn’t like you were familiar with the creatures of Snezhnaya. But it didn’t sound like a normal enemy monster. It was sad, keening… longing.
It called out again. You… would rather die quickly to a beast than slowly to hypothermia, you supposed.
“Here,” you called out weakly. You clicked your tongue a few times, as if luring in a cat. “Come on.”
You laughed slightly. Had delusion from hypothermia set in so quickly? You were making kissy noises at the monster in the forest. Luring in your death with soft sweet noises.
The forest was still for a moment. And then it wasn’t.
Snow crunched underfoot of what was undoubtedly a large creature. You were pretty sure you heard the waning bend of pine trees as it shoved pass.
Was this a mistake? Probably. You were too cold to care. Maybe its claws would be warm as it tore you apart. Ha. Wouldn’t that be nice?
At some point your eyes had slipped closed again, but it was close now. You could hear it. So close—you waited for the sink of claws into your flesh—
It came to a stop in front of you, inches away, maybe, if the warm breath on your skin was any indication.
In a raspy, warbling tone, it spoke English. “Creator?”
What?
You opened your eyes again, and gasped as you saw… Tartaglia? No, not him, exactly. But, his Foul Legacy. The rough plates of armor adorning his limbs, the red mask with a singular clouded pearl eye in the center, the sheer size of him.
“Ajax?” You mumbled.
“Creator!” It said again, rough, desperate, as if it had a throat not made for speaking.
“Hi.” You said simply, before your eyes slipped closed.
~
Warmth.
There was warmth.
A lot of warmth.
Fire.
You sighed, not daring to open your eyes for fear it might disappear. That you might still be laying in the snow, your blood crystallizing in your veins.
A smooth, clawed hand cupped your cheek, then your jaw, tilting your head back. Was this when the pain would come? You stirred a bit, but little nothing happened. The thing holding you sighed, gently pressing the sides of your cheek to open your jaw. What? What was happening? You hardly had time to panic before something warm was poured into your mouth, and his inhuman hand latched around your mouth to keep it shut.
You whimpered, eyes still closed—gods you really didn’t want to open them. You really couldn’t mentally confront what was happening. For now, it needed to stay invisible, it needed to not be real—as the liquid sat in your mouth. You refused to swallow, but it tasted like broth? Was it broth? You decided you didn’t care, not so long as you were being forced to drink—
That was, until its other hand came up and began to massage your throat. You sputtered, the rough finger pads gently rubbing against your throat forcing you to swallow after a moment.
It’s… nice. Warm but not hot, and definitely just some sort of broth now that you think about it. The next time the edge of a bowl is set against your lips, you drink of your own volition.
Whatever was caring for you seemed happy, as its rumbling chest, reminiscent of a cat's purr, seemed to indicate. Honestly, you were too, going slack against it, hiding your face in what you think is it’s neck, lined with a mane of fur, as it rubbed circles into your scars. The old aches of death soothing under its fingerpads.
Sleep came easy.
~
The next time you woke up, you weren’t so afraid to open your eyes.
Strangely calm, you didn’t even jump at the sight in front of you.
Probably seven feet tall, with thick, armored plates running up his body, a mix of purples, blues, blacks and reds coloring his body. His mask was a dull red, and an abyssal blue, almost jewel like eye was set in the center.
Foul legacy. Tartaglia’s abyssal form. This was Childe, no—
“Ajax?”
He practically melted, wrapping around you at the raspy croak of his own name.
You sighed, snuggling into the small fur mane around his neck.
“What are… what are you doing here?” Wasn’t he out of the country? You weren’t sure what point in the story you arrived during, but none of them had him in his homeland for long. “Isn’t being in that form for too long dangerous?”
He smiled. Well, ‘smile’ was a bad term. He curled back his lips and opened his plated maw, one you didn’t know he had. It was hidden among the red armor of his mask, which you were now convinced were just, ya know, his face when in foul legacy. His maw, black and almost a void inside, lined with row after row of sharp, shark-like teeth. He yawned, wide, before snapping his mouth shut with a little clack.
You couldn’t help the small giggle that bubbled up from your throat.
He seemed to like that, purring as he set his chin atop your head.
Your giggle faded away, and your face fell. You gave a soft sigh, body aching slightly. With a quiet voice, you could help but ask what’d been gnawing at you since you woke.
“Why… Why are you helping me?”
“Because the ones who hurt you are fools.”
That was not Ajax.
You turned your head, towards the entrance of the cave Ajax had holed the two of you up in.
When you saw who it was, you shied into the arms of Foul Legacy, who was happy enough to wrap his arms around you.
Capitano’s intimidating figure blocked the entrance of the cave, mask glinting in the fire light.
“I apologize for the late arrival, I was combing the west side of the valley for you. Tartaglia seemed to find you first.”
“I…” What?
Capitano stepped deeper into the cave, his steps were confident, but the closer he got, he lowered his head. It almost looked like a sign of respect.
A mere few strides away, he reached a hand out—to greet you? Touch you? You were sure, as before he could do anything, Ajax dragged you closer and responded to Capitano with a guttural growl.
“Quiet, eleventh.” Capitano commanded. Despite his unhappiness, Ajax obliged, letting Capitano closer.
A cold metal gauntlet approached your face slowly, before cupping your face. Gently, it tilted your jaw up, forcing you to meet the void of his mask.
You didn’t know that when the firelight hit your irises, they glittered with constellations, or that the veins barely visible against the white of your eyes were gold.
What you did see through, was the way his heavy shoulders dropped, and you heard a reverent sigh of relief. He dipped his head lower, and you swore crystal blue eyes blinked slowly down at you.
“Welcome to the waking world, dear Creator. Celestia has kept you asleep and unseeing for far too long.”
~~~
Omg this had so much more but the plot got out of hand so I just took the first bits and left the rest out. TECHNICALLY there’s lord and explanations but I know I’d never finish a cohesive plot so here we are! My first attempt as SAGAU!
Gonna update my ask specifics soon as well as answer one!
ALSO IVE BEEN TRYING TO FIND THIS SOULMATE AU SCARA FIC WHERE HE FINDS READER LIKE TIED OUT AS A SACRIFICE AND FINDS OUT SHES HIS SOULMATE AND HE LIKE BRINGS HER ALONG WITH HIM AND SHE IS LIKE SICK FROM THE COLD AND HES ALL WORRIED AND LIKE “FORGET THEM THEY BTRAYED TOU” AND I CANT FIND IT AGAINNN AAAA anyways if you’ve read it and know pls tell me
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121231212i · 5 months
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Genshin Impact | Foul Legacy
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naiart-i · 4 months
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That's game over for you |¦ 💧
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alualexaa · 4 months
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He is certainly confused now 🤔
I found my way to fight artblock/burnout for now, I just draw silly one page comics 🙈
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had some SAGAU thoughts this merry night
there's an old rumor that floats around the circles of the divine, that the Creator god will eventually and inevitably fall to the whims of the Abyss, consumed by the darkness forevermore. it terrifies the Archons and other divine beings to know that the one they worship and adore so much would have to endure such agony, so as all the devoted do, they try to prevent it. every law and order that is passed prepares only for the Creator's arrival, in hopes that the combined power of Teyvat will be able to keep their god safe and sound, sparing no expense to eradicate the Abyss' presence from the above world.
in their madness, they lay their eyes upon the one they worship and declare them- you- a heretic.
it was like a dream come true when you first woke up in Teyvat, the setting of your favorite game, but the dream quickly twisted into a nightmare as you found yourself hunted by every nation, seemingly every person yelling for your head on a platter. an imposter, they called you- a decoy sent by the Abyss- and for that, you deserved execution and death.
and execute you they did, when they inevitably caught you after weeks of running, your blood running a deep red on the pavement, speckled with nearly invisible stars.
when you wake up again, you first only feel pain, pain everywhere, from your head to the tips of your fingers. you want to cry out, but your throat is bone-dry, only faint, raspy coughs coming out. then suddenly you're surrounded by warmth, a pair of arms grasping your broken body gently with a soothing purr. Childe- Foul Legacy- cradles you lovingly, helping you sit up slightly to sip water before settling you back down with a soft croon, the entire Abyss silent and peaceful in your presence. Legacy traces the scar that runs the entire circumference of your neck with one delicate claw, letting out a quiet hiss at the thought of those foolish gods and mortals who hurt you before holding you closer and giving your head a comforting pat.
you smile, weak and faint, at the action, and Legacy rumbles in delight as the Abyss wraps around you; a dark, starry blanket of warmth and peace.
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tartaeya · 4 months
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this art is doing really well on twt for some reason so you can have it too
more nonsense inspired by my fic
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anticbard · 4 months
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rip childe's memory you would have loved shouki no kami😔
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Kinktober day 13/14: Monsterfucking + blood - Childe/Foul Legacy Transformation x reader
Warnings/tags: Monsterfucking, his dick is like 14 inches, fem!reader. Once Childe transforms, Foul Legacy gets it/its pronouns. Blood is mentioned, unrealistic sex, Foul Legacy is kind of horror movieified. Slight dub con. It sticks its tongue down your throat. You bleed from multiple things. Mentions of breeding too.
Reader really wants Childe to fuck her in his Foul Legacy transformation.
The first time you asked Childe to fuck you in his foul legacy form, he said no.
Immediately shut you down. Outright refused. Wouldn’t even let you start up with a word of argument- he was so violently opposed to the idea- convinced there was no way you could take that version of him, in any way.
But you were, if anything, stubborn. You were sure you could handle it! You knew you could! And you showed Childe that every opportunity you got- stretching yourself wider and wider till you could nearly take your whole hand. A proud grin on your face as you straddled him- giving him the perfect view to see exactly how much you could take.
You were just so determined to prove to Childe that you could handle it- and no matter how many times he told you “No. It would destroy you.” you persisted. Eventually wearing down his walls enough to just get him to have an open conversation about the topic.
You were curled up against Childe’s side, looking up at him as he stuttered in exasperation and desperately tried to explain to you just how bad of an idea this was. “It’ll break you- it'll rip you apart!”
“No. It won’t. I showed you I could take it, so you gotta at least come up with a new excuse.” You responded, huffing.
“It’s still a bad idea! Being exposed to that much abyssal energy is dangerous! It’s no-“ You cut him off, a bit of pride rising in your chest as you revel in having anticipated this argument beforehand. “I talked to Dottore. He said it’s fine.”
Childe frowns, choosing to set the whole bringing-a-mad-man-into-your-sexlife thing aside for later, and instead focusing on the current subject. “I don’t believe him, he’s not exactly trustworthy.”
“He’s competent.”
“He’s a psychopath.”
“But a competent one.”
Childe sighs, angling your head and looking into your eyes as he speaks in a more serious tone. “You don’t understand. When I’m like that- Foul Legacy isn’t me. I’m not able to control myself- it’s all instincts, there’s no self control, there’s no thinking, only doing. It’s-it’s like I’m an animal. And I don’t want you to see me like that and be… scared of me.”
You, very calmly and methodically, explain to him: That. Is. Exactly. What. You. Want.
After that night, it still takes another week's worth of convincing before you get him to agree, and then another week of prep before the big day. And when it finally comes, you can’t help but feel a twinge of regret over not listening to Childe’s warnings. Because oh holy shit. That’s a lot bigger than you had been expecting-
You had seen Foul Legacy before, of course, but only from far away. Up close was a whole new thing. It was 10 feet. Easily. Childe Foul Legacy absolutely towered over you, you couldn’t hide how you trembled and practically cowered underneath its watch. Dressed intricately in an array of dark purples and reds, purple sparks crackled and fizzled in the air surrounding it. The only hint of Childe remaining was the messy nest of ginger hair that stuck out from behind Foul Legacy’s mask (face? You couldn’t tell).
You understood what Childe meant. This wasn’t him, this was Foul Legacy.
“Is this what you wanted?”
You flinch as you hear Foul Legacy speak, forcing your head into a shaky nod. Its voice is deep, scratchy, and barely recognizable as Childe’s. Despite the words clearly ringing through the room, there’s no movement from its mask.
“Good.”
You could’ve sworn Foul Legacy teleported to infront of you. One moment it was across the room, the next, its black claws found your hips, effortlessly lifting you up and tossing you onto the mattress.
You landed with a soft “thump”, getting no to time to catch your breath before Foul Legacy’s hands are already back on you. Its claws dig into your hips- tiny rivulets of blood flowing from where the razor sharp points pierces your skin- and it lifts.
A startled yelp comes out of your throat as your lower body is lifted up and Foul Legacy moves its head between your legs. You hardly get a chance to scream in horror as its mouth opens- a long, thick, dark purple tongue that immediately dragged roughly over your clit.
You gasped, hands flying to cover your mouth as Foul Legacy ground its tongue against your clit. You rut your hips upwards, whimpering at the way its claws dug deeper into the fat of your hips in warning.
“Childe- Childe please!” You babbled, crying and grabbing at the sheets as you were forced to take the near painful grind of Foul Legacy’s tongue against your clit. It was too much, but it wasn’t enough, and the more Foul Legacy went on, the harder you sobbed, eventually, a painful orgasm crashing into you like a freight train.
Foul Legacy’s tongue continued to rub against you- working you through your orgasm till you were once again squirming in overstimulation.
You didn’t get any time to recover before you were once again dropped down onto the mattress- hazily worrying about the blood ruining the sheets before you froze.
There was no way. There was no way that was going to fit inside of you. It was at least 14 inches, for Christ's sake. And why the hell was it thicker than your upper arm?
You hastily pushed yourself up, opening your mouth to call out Childe’s name- only to have your ankles grabbed and shoved up past your head- your body now completely bent in half.
You cried out and squeezed your eyes shut, shaking as you felt that same long tongue flicker across were Foul Legacy’s bloody claws were holding your ankles- shivering as you felt it lick the blood up- eventually moving to the punctures on your hips and lapping up the blood that ran down your skin.
By the time you cracked your eye open, Foul Legacy had finished with the blood- bitting, licking, and sucking across your thighs as it made its way closer and closer to your still sensitive pussy.
You bucked your hips away, squirming and begging as you tried to get through to Childe.
“No no no no- Childe! I’m too sensitive! You were too rough! Don’t use your tongue again!!”
Foul legacy looked up at you, an angry growl and tight ting of the claws at your wrists was all you needed to be frightened back into compliance.
You bit your cheek and looked away, a whiny whimper escaping from your throat as the head of Foul Legacy’s monstrous cock rubbed against your sore clit.
Well- at least it listened to you-
Although you weren’t sure you were grateful once it started pushing in. No matter how wet you had been, it would’ve hurt either way.
You couldn’t help it, you screamed. loud and pained until Foul Legacy shoved its tongue down your open mouth, muffling your screams as the large muscle wiggled its way past the muscles at the back of your throat, leaving you sobbing and gagging around it as the painful stretch of its cock only grew worse.
All the while, you were staring up. Not at your boyfriend, but at whatever he had become.
Tears flowed freely from your eyes as you struggled to breath around the tongue intent on making its way down your throat. The lack of oxygen at least partially distracted you from the burning stretch of your hole.
Foul Legacy didn’t remove its tongue from your mouth until you were too lost in pleasure to care about the pain. You couldn’t help but scream- the way Foul Legacy’s cock bullied it’s way inside of you- going deeper and deeper with each thrust, till it could bottom out easily with each thrust-
You were absolutely leaking around its cock, babbling and clenching as each of Foul Legacy’s thrusts sent the bed rocking and you bouncing.
You were too far gone to even care when you looked down- seeing Foul Legacy’s cock covered in blood as It roughly thrusted in and out- growling things about breeding you, filling you up, telling you that you’d make such a strong mother for its offspring.
Even when you came, Foul legacy didn’t stop, fucking you through not just that orgasm- but another one after it. By the time Foul Legacy finally did finish, you were hardly more than a fucked out mess beneath it. It’s hips stuttering and grinding into you as it filled you with waves and waves of cum- till it spilled out from your pussy, even while you were still stretched out on its cock.
Even then, Foul Legacy didn’t pull out, it kept you on its cock, curling its massive body around you protectively as you fell asleep almost immediately.
Kinktober 2023 Masterlist
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watatsumiis · 10 months
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Reader's Stuffed Toy
Just a silly little set of drabbles about different characters finding out that the reader has a plushie in their likeness :D
Gender neutral reader, platonic fluff, very slight angst in Foul Legacy's part
Characters: Ayato, Foul Legacy, Gorou, Tighnari, Rex Lapis (yes the dragon), Xiao
Ayato is insufferably smug about it from the moment he realises. He’ll waste no time in teasing you about it and commenting on the plush, though there’s a dark flicker of something in his eyes whenever he catches you contently snuggled up to it, or tucking it carefully into your bag for a long trip. It may take some reassurance that no, this little bundle of fluff isn’t as good as the real thing, until he warms to the idea, and eventually you may find little packages laid out addressed only to “The Junior Yashiro Commissioner.” that, when opened, reveal itty bitty clothes, hand-sewn by Thoma with the utmost care to match Ayato’s own day-to-day outfits. He also may incorporate the toy into his own routine, occasionally stealing it from you so that it can ‘complete its paperwork for the day’. He denies being in any way attached to the toy, but it’s hard to take his claims seriously when he’s got it sitting on his desk in a little chair belonging to Ayaka’s dolls, with a teeny tiny brush and paper in hand.
Though Foul Legacy doesn't entirely get it, he understands that the stuffed toy is of great importance to you. He holds it so delicately, like it's made of glass, so his claws won't shred it. He'll mimic the way you treat it, patting it on the head and chirping curiously at it, as if it's a living creature. It takes him a while to realise how much the toy actually resembles him - there’s a level of disconnect between him and his physical form, but the moment he finds out, he can’t seem to stop thinking about it. He wonders why you’d want a plush of (what he perceives to be) such a monster, but it seems to bring you a great deal of comfort, so he lets it slide, making sure to always be extra careful when he’s tucking it in next to you while you sleep. He finds a whisper of familiarity and comfort in the way you treat the plush that makes him think back to days long past in a small, seaside village, supplying his little siblings with various toys and watching them play.
Gorou is utterly embarrassed - his immediate response is to ask if the Guuji Yae put you up to this. He cannot fathom why you’d be carrying around other than it being some sort of ploy to mess with him. He encourages you to put it away, seemingly worried about any of the other soldiers seeing and potentially teasing him for it - it’s all in good fun, of course, but Gorou is more than a little shy at the best of times. He doesn’t really get it, and may pull you aside to ask you more questions, but there’s just something about it that doesn’t seem to click for him. Though, once he knows you’re being kind and genuine, and that the plush was a one-off commission and not some kind of mass-produced piece, he’s more inclined to allow it, though he’ll get all blushy whenever he thinks about it - he just can’t quite process the fact that you like him enough to own something like that. Even if his soldiers happen to catch on, they realise that there’s a boundary of sorts there, though they may donate little trinkets and tiny toy weapons to the ‘miniature general’ as a sort of good luck ritual before big battles.
Tighnari finds the plush one day when you accidentally leave it sitting out - his initial reaction is one of utter confusion as he wonders if his admirers have grown so bold that they’re now making merchandise of him on top of the trading cards that are circulating. The moment he picks it up and realises it’s drenched in your scent, he’s pleasantly surprised and more than a little flattered. The concept of comfort objects is quite familiar to him, and he takes care to place the toy exactly where he found it. He keeps a closer eye out in an attempt to catch you in the act, partially out of curiosity, but also a little because he likes the confidence boost he gains from it, and how embarrassed you seem to be about the whole situation, hiding the toy away whenever he comes near. If it’s ever brought up, he just kind of laughs it off, but the twitching of his ears reveals how endeared he is to this specific trait of yours. He may also try to find ways to subtly direct you towards Collei, who also has similar comfort objects of her own and can be pretty embarrassed about them at times - this may end up with both of you having cute little Tighnari plushies in your possession.
Rex Lapis takes it pretty well in stride, doesn’t even comment on it at first - after all, this is basically a form of worship, no? That is, until he realises that you treat the toy as a companion more than an item of reverence. He’s a little confused about it at first, watching as you walk about with the plush dragon tucked in your arms, chattering away to it. Eventually, he caves and rumbles out his questions about it, asking if this is meant to be some form of teasing or mockery and listening intently as you awkwardly try to fumble out an acceptable explanation. It takes him some time to grasp the concept that it’s simply an item of comfort to you, and even then he’s not entirely convinced it’s some kind of adeptal trick or machine brought to life somehow.
Xiao isn’t sure how to react. It’s not something you really chose to hide from him, considering his own outlandish habits, you figured he probably wouldn’t even care, but it seems that his fight or flight kicks in whenever he glimpses you with the plush that bears such a striking resemblance to him. His cheeks flush and his pointed ears tilt downwards as he crosses his arms over his chest and demands to see the toy, asking where you got it and why you have it. It’s not quite something he can wrap his head around - why would you want to have something that looks like him when you could just call his name and have the real him there in an instant? If he’s feeling particularly agitated that day, he may just pocket the toy and walk away with it - it’s not the first time he’s done something like that to one of your belongings, and you know it won’t be the last. Following him reveals that he tucks it away in a secluded corner of his nest amongst the high branches of Wangshu Inn, maybe even placing some other similar trinkets and scraps of fabric around it like an imitation of his own nest. He might just turn a blind eye if you happen to be brave enough to try and steal it back from him, though this may end up in an impromptu long-term game of ‘capture the flag’.
Please don't repost, steal, copy or otherwise plagiarise my writing! I do not consent for my works to be translated and posted elsewhere, or used to teach bots!
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