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daylite-writes · 10 months

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“Do Your Worst” - Capitano x fem!traitor!reader

You were a spy for your homeland placed high up in the Fatui command, until you were outed as such. Now, you face the man who’s heart you stole.

cw: mild violence for the sake of information, implied previous relationship, not the healthiest relationship, prisoners of war.

~~~

You whined under your breath as his shadow covered, as his hand brushed through her hair. You were a prisoner of war. This was war. The brutality, all of it. If only it hurt, if only it wasn’t soft and sweet.

“C-Cap…” you cough out once.

“Quiet.” He said simply.

Slowly he peeled away your sweat and blood soaked armor, leaving you bloodied and unprotected.

You heard the slosh of water. As the Captain soaked a washcloth, rung it out, and began to clean the dirt and blood from your skin. The ragged cloth brushed over bruises, circling over your ribs, your spine. You said nothing.

Finally, the washcloth left, but he didn’t. He pulled himself close, on his knees in front of you, hand winding through your hair to lift your gaze up to his.

You stared into his mask, a swirling void blankly staring back. He sighed, hand moving to cup the back of your neck, pulling you close against his chest. By now you knew him well enough to understand only silence would satifsy him.

It was a short while, no more than a minute or two, before he spoke, quiet. “Planted or compromised?”

“Planted.”

His grip tightened, his other arm possessively curling over your battle scarred back. “Your name is not [False Name].”

You nodded against his shoulder.

“A lot of us liked you, assassin girl.”

It was an understatement. Columbina enjoyed your gift with the lyre. Pantalone complimented your efficiency at dirty work. Dottore once called you “the useful hawk in a flock of pigeons”. Arlechinno complimented you, to your face. Childe always requested duels, no matter if he knew the outcome. You were, undeniably, liked within the Fatui’s highest ranks.

Capitano though, he was your sergeant, your general. He helped train you into something more lethal than before. He appreciated your battle prowess and scouting skills on expeditions earlier on in your spying career. Even when you fell into your role of Fatui’s assassin, you were often called to his side, some lousy excuse given every time, a job able to be done by any well trained soldier, delegated her for the simple purpose of keeping you close.

They fell for your ruse. The carefully crafted place you’d gained in the Fatui as a spy. And Capitano?

Perhaps he fell harder than any other.

“What ties you? What is stronger than the two of us, that you’d leave me?” He demanded, quietly, desperately.

Nothing. You’d lost all your family long ago, never having met anyone after them. Your loyalty to your nation was hardly more binding than your loyalty to this one. But loyalty was how one stayed alive. Loyalty and skill. You moved through her days like a ghost. Like a killer. Should your home fall, you’d never cry. But until then, the nation that raised you demanded your undying loyalty.

Your eyes were nearly as tired as his, the weight of your actions painted the under of your eyes a bruised blue.

“Graceless, loveless, homeless assassin. You know what happens to you now?”

You nodded.

“Horrid, horrid.” His hand grabbed your jaw, bones almost creaking as he squeezed. “Horrid, horribly enchanting woman.”

He let go, and your head fell.

“How dare you do this to me.” His deep, heavy voice shook.

“If it’s any consolation,” she rasped, eyes on her knees. “This… us... It wasn’t planned.”

“It’s not.” He spat.

You barked out a laugh. It stung your throat.

“Who is your master?”

It takes a moment for the question to process, but as it does, you smiled sadly. “This conversation will not end in a way either of us like.”

“Be happy I am the one to interrogate you. Others more cruel than me would have much more fun with you.”

“You already know my ties are with my home country. I will give you nothing more.”

“Then you know what happens now.”

His knee struck you square in the stomach, forcing you to grunt as bile crept into the back of your throat, but you didn’t curl into yourself. He struck again.

And again. And then once more.

Blood and vomit crept up the back of your throat. You swallowed it down. On the ground now, the steel toe of a boot replaced the knee, striking you in the ribs this time.

You did your best to dissociate, to wait both him and the pain out, hiding in your own mind. He must have noticed, because he refused to allow it, gloved hand pulling you up by the roots of your hair into a half sitting position, grabbing your attention for a quick moment before he stomped on her ankle so hard it cracked.

You cried out then, the scream tampering off into choked sobs.

His boot settled on her other ankle.

“What’s your true name?”

“[First]. No last name.” You gasped out.

He paused, “appropriate.”

What the fuck did that mean? You glared up at him. Gods your ankle was fucked.

“And your master?”

“Didn’t-” You spoke between labored breaths. “We just go over that? I won’t answer a question like that.”

“You will. Eventually.”

You tried to laugh, but you just ended up wheezing, falling forward. Grey was seeping into your vision, blurring at the edges. All the adrenaline in your system was basically gone.

“Kill me.” You said, “I did my duty. And I won’t assist you. Kill me.”

“I have better uses for you.”

Your expression soured. “You’ve never been one to deny an honorable death. It is the one thing you’ve always granted. Why… why is it different now?”

“You don’t deserve an honorable death.”

“There are others who’ve done far worse than me; and you’ve granted it. What crime have I committed where you deny me this?” You bit out.

“Thievery.”

“Thievery?”

“Yes. You stole so much from me. My time, my effort, my heart. It is a disrespect I won’t tolerate.” His hand slipped under your chin, pulling your head up.

“Then what? Torture?”

“No.” He said after a moment. “I will receive your loyalty. Your devotion. I will take it, even without you wanting to give it. We will return to how we were before, only this time you will not be a traitor.”

“I will not stand by your side and serve you. You know this.”

“I am a patient man. No matter how uphill the battle. I will acquire your loyalty. I will not lose you.”

You huffed. “You can try. I am not easy to break.”

“I already have a head start.” Capitano said, tilting your head with his hand. It was true. You’d done a lot for him. You underwent interrogations and torture by mutual enemies and gave up nothing. You trained by him. Fought for him. Killed for him. Sure, it was while delivering intelligence to her homeland, but it was loyalty nonetheless.

You closed your eyes. “Do your worst.”

~~~

#genshin x reader #capitano #capitano x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin capitano #capitano x fem!reader #this has been sitting for forever so I’m tossing it out into the void that is tumblr #yandere capitano #yandere capitano x reader

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dimepdf · 1 year

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Can you write more Dilf!Toji please? 😭 I really appreciate your writing 🫶🏽

★ 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐘. + 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

masterlist. / taglist. / any request? synopsis. you come around and make Toji so tempted, no matter what broad he's bagging all he can think about is you: his fucking nanny .

─── ☆ notes. number one dilf toji defender here, i’m in my Anderson Paak phase as well as i’ve sadly (i know im disappointed too) fallen for a man to the point where this boy has invaded my DREAMS y’all…this is embarrassing and this fic is me coping with having an actual crush so i give you full permission to call me a simp over this .

─── ☆ length. 2.6k (23 mins) .

─── ☆ genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni, nanny au, dilf!toji, angsty start, fluff, minor character death, hints of depression, hookups, pining, black coded reader, you got brotha STARVING, megumi and tsumiki are toddlers in this, someone give toji a hug, vent-fic, hurt/comfort, age gap, height difference, it's always Gojo’ fault, masturbation, jealousy | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

Toji would say that after becoming a parent, he could read body language pretty well. Maybe it was just part of being a single parent and having to detect when your toddlers were sprouting nonsense just to stay up later knowing it was bedtime.

From the times he believed that his little Megumi was being the perfect angel and finally grew out of his tantrum phase.

Only to turn his back and realize that he had used craft scissors to chop a chunk out of Tsumiki’s hair and was playing nice to soften his punishment, to school beatdowns and playing dumb, Toji had decided he was just a master at decoding anyone’s bullshit.

Everyone except for his own that is.

Being a single parent came with its perks, Toji loved his two little demons, and it sort of helped that Tsumiki made the most of her mother's common sense.

But dealing with his ex-wife's abrupt death, being sprung into the life of lone fatherhood, and being a successful businessman were starting to take their toll on him.

His friends were not much help. Sure, Gojo did all he could to be seen as the cool uncle, but leaving his two hyper children with a man that refused to say no to anything that they asked was like signing his children up for their possible deaths.

Geto wasn’t much better, having his own marriage and kids. You would think that the father would grow to have a bit more compassion for the children's safety. Yet every time Tsumiki and Megumi visited their brass uncle, they would always come home with new scars sprouting about how they were practicing wrestling moves with their cousins for the last ice pop.

Waking up to something different, never being able to just fill in the gaps with a routine was starting to become a bit stressful.

Not to mention going to work and having to push himself to his limits, knowing that just because he was friends and business partners with Nanami didn't mean he'd be lenient with him.

All paired with the weight of some bold secretary that he had a one-night stand and never got the clue that every time he would brush her off for paperwork didn't mean he was singling her to cling onto him more. It was bad business hooking up with one of his employees Toji knows.

If anything, the woman had taken him at just the right opportunity when he was at the lowest moment of his life. Right after his wife's death, he had fallen behind on just about everything to the point where he would lean into any sense of comfort that reminded him of that faded memory he wanted to keep dear to his heart.

So there he was after hours with a woman's thigh over his shoulder moaning out his name as if it were a prayer, and he had realized that right after it was all a mistake, which was kind of a shitty thing to note as she was standing right in front of him pulling up her panties.

He just can't do it again, out of respect for her but also for himself. The last thing he wanted to do was entangle himself in another situation that would take more time away from his kids.

Not that he considered the woman to be pestering, but he wasn't a teenager anymore. The last thing he wanted to do was handle his stress by sticking his dick in the first woman he considered attractive, all because he had trouble bottling up all his emotions.

Toji's hatred for all the lingering eyes in the office—sure, Toji thought himself handsome—the proof was the number of relationships he had in his younger days.

There was something wrong with people finding him attractive and wanting something from him when he genuinely felt like his entire world would collapse on top of him if he stopped moving.

As if he stopped overworking himself that he would be like one of those sharks that had to keep swimming or else they would fucking die. It was ironic how stupidly afraid Toji was at the thought of leaving his children alone in the world with both of their parents gone.

It was fear, having that parental fear for something every waking morning worrying every second that something could happen to children all because he could notice one little thing or he hadn't paid enough attention.

Sure, he was being a hovering parent—call it what you want—but Toji would rather be that than a father who would spend his free time sleeping around with several different women. Never wanting to have to explain to his children that none of the women he slept with could compare to the relationship he had with their mother.

So he didn't. No more attachments. No more romantic anything, let alone bringing a woman home.

It was the secretary's fault. She was a beautiful woman with long hair and a cute, petite figure, and she allowed him to fold in any position that he wanted against his desk.

All that just makes Toji feel more guilty, or more worried, as if this choppy relationship that he had with this poor woman, whose name he would always forget yet who would practically scream out his, would just blow up in his face.

What if she wanted something more serious?

What if Nanami found out that he was banging one of the employees?

What if he got fired because he couldn't keep it in his pants?

What if he lost his main source of income and couldn't provide for his kids anymore?

All of those worries were just added stress, crowding his plate until he couldn't carry it anymore, and after a few years of bottling it all up until he couldn't anymore, he finally decided to reach out for help.

Little by little, of course, he would actually tell his friends how he felt when they asked, spend more time letting Megumi and Tsumiki be actual kids, letting them hang out with their friends, and worry just a bit less whenever they would visit their younger cousins at Geto’s place.

He had even accepted Gojo’s idea of hiring a babysitter, but of course, the blonde’s intentions for such an offer were dual-minded.

Thriving on about how he should hire some smoking hot lady, to have some eye candy around the house to fuel some busting fantasies to break his dry spell.

Toji was quick to dismiss that idea for a variety of reasons, one of which was that he had hired you. You were a clumsy young girl who just needed a side hustle to pay for some of your college classes, accepting his twenty-dollar an hour ad despite the fact that it was the lowest pay sandwiched between the obviously more wealthy families looking for someone to look after their kids so they didn't have to on the boogie nanny seeking website.

At first, the idea of leaving his children alone with you was a terrifying thought. The impression that you gave him during the interview was more than enough to fuel his worries after seeing you stumble out of your car and get your jacket in the car door, dense to the point where you had face-planted into his back during the house tour, too busy gawking at the many bathrooms to pay attention to where you were supposed to be walking.

Your genuinely bubbly personality around the children is what saved you from going broke. Sure, you were a little naive when it came to some of the things that you lied about on your resume, but the thing that Toji liked about you was that you just seemed to handle yourself so well despite not knowing at all what you were doing. If anything, he admired how you had managed to keep yourself alive despite running through life so differently than he would.

You were quick to gain his trust, in fact, quicker than anyone has ever in his entire life. He felt his feelings were mostly biased given that his kids had practically attached themselves to you throughout the months of being their nanny.

It was only natural for them to grow so close to you with how much Toji had to work, but what Toji hadn't expected was for you two to form some sort of friendship as well.

It started off pretty odd, with Toji coming home to find you have the kids tucked in for the night and spread out on his living room couch watching so many movies on his HBO Max account that he forgot he even had.

You were a pretty chatty person, and he had learned to notice how you could go from being so silent that he would forget you were even there to the point of talking about anything within your wide range of interests that Toji had never heard of.

In all honesty, Toji loved that about you—how you could introduce him to new things that he hadn't gotten around to understanding all because he was too busy being a workaholic.

His new favorite part about coming home was just to talk to you, or at least listen to your rant about some silly little show, or make him listen to one of the new songs you had become obsessed with.

And before he had known it, Toji actually felt warmth in his household again, all because of some kind-hearted nanny who had managed to break down all of his walls.

It was almost strange how someone so opposite to him, someone so minor, could have managed to make his life change for the better.

And then it got a little bit more strange.

Life had been going so well for him that sometimes those days would just blend together. There would be times at work when he had wished for his entire office building to crumble to dust just so he could get out of work early for the day, but even after those shifts, he would come home to you, and suddenly that swallowing dark hole in his chest would actually start to feel whole again.

He had just gotten so used to using you as his personal happiness dispenser that when you managed to wiggle into his life more and more, he even introduced you to his main group of friends. His mood was ruined when he saw Gojo's eyes practically glow at the sight of you during Tsumiki's birthday party.

Toji hadn't understood why it had bothered him so much, seeing his best friend become too chummy with you.

If anything, knowing Gojo’s history of charming the pants off of any attractive woman, he could have prepared him enough to know that you too would soon enough fall victim to at least one of his friends, but there was just something so uncomfortable about hearing Gojo drown you in compliments.

It was as if something had clicked, and suddenly you weren't just the full-time nanny anymore, but the beautiful young woman that he had suddenly noticed was so pretty, and that alone made Toji feel like such a fucking creep.

Maybe it was because you were closer to his children's age than his or the fact that every time you would change your hair every other month, he would imagine his hands tangled in your braids, how he would think about holding the locs away from your face to get a better view of you between his legs.

It was all so fucked, your now normal image of him all screwed over all because of Gojo and his ability to turn anything sexual. Toji had felt just a little better pinning the blame on someone else, thinking that maybe it would ease his guilt for getting so hard thinking about you late at night.

You would be just downstairs asleep in the living while he laid down on the other side of the house in the comfort of his four walls, pressing his face into his pillows with an erection hard enough that he was convinced it was harder than bricks.

For the first time in a while, it wasn't anything work-related taking up all of his attention, but instead the fucking nanny he hired. The pretty nanny who was in college, who was closer to his children's age than his, the nanny with the glossed lips that he had to hold back from wanting to taste which flavor it was she was wearing now.

His lovely nanny, whom he wished to strip naked piece by piece to pay close attention to every dip and curve in her figure. He wanted you naked as the day you were born, spread across his mattress, lips parting only to say his name and his name only.

It was a dangerous thought, one that often led to Toji revealing himself with a rabbit hole of thoughts about you in any situation his mind could imagine.

It was even more crude—wrapping his hand around his dick and thrusting his hips up into his hand, thinking about the same woman who was just a staircase away, masturbating as if he were a teenage boy and not a man with two kids asleep in just the room across the hall.

He blamed everything on Gojo, it was all his fault that you have suddenly seemed so fucking unforgettable. How could you suddenly be all he could think about with all his sanity thrown out the window for some nanny?

His pretty nanny.

You were so beautiful, with full lips, a dark complexion, and brown eyes that managed to look so appealing despite being so boring. Your expressions make you so easy to read.

The way your brows would pull together whenever you were confused, how the ends of your lips would quirk with every joke, how your personality managed to be so welcoming.

You stood tall, your head just below his shoulder, average height but so short in comparison to his towering figure.

How bad Toji just wanted to scoop you up into his arms and bury his face into your neck, the same neck where he wanted to leave as many marks as he possibly could against your brown skin.

The thought doesn't help Toji’s aching dick at all. How bad he wants to suck little marks into your soft flesh, leaving dark little marks wherever he can against your body.

It was a possessive thought, having you covered in his teeth marks and love bites, waiting for the next guy to dare to even make a move on you.

He wonders how soft your thighs feel and how nice they would feel wrapped around his waist. He lets his hand do the majority of the work, his fingers rough around his length, causing a groan from the friction.

Toji’s fantasies about you play out quite beautifully in his mind, so perfectly, in fact, that he struggles to keep himself silent.

Which was a new thing for him given that Toji wasn’t usually very vocal during sex, not even the best blowjob that he had ever gotten would he give anything but a few grunts yet there he was fisting into his fist to keep himself from whimpering out so pathetically.

Humping his hand to the point where he had to cover his own mouth, he finished all over himself, strings of cum shooting all over his chest to his shirt. He was too caught up in his own bliss to care about the sad mess he created.

Toji thought you were beautiful. He thought you were so perfect to the point where even the simple thought of you made him so happy.

You, his nanny, were the realization that settled in his mind after his high.

🔖 @tojidilfs @s-witch-bitch @chloee0x0 @kawatabae @haitaniwhor3 @pluzo @hey-gurls69 @momoewn @kogoshidied @disaster-rose @hoohoohope @pidwidge @jadeisthirsting @zuuki @watyousayin @tojishugetiddies @rumi-rants @justanotherkpopstanlol @awkwardaardvarkforever @lexiinanime @melty-kisses @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @kiyomeichann @wenumsmol @unholybabyface @ficti0nalslxt @namidaass @princesstiti14 @watyousayin @crissteetee @ziggy-09 @anotherlovelyruin

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#[ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ★ — t.wrks. ]#toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut

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arafilez · 23 days

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੭୧ ⼂ LIES YOU BUILT ﹗

ー☆ㅤㅤ [ kwh x reader ] ㅤ੭𓂃 ㅤangst, no comfort, bsf to strangers ㅤ warnings crying, woonhak is a little toxic ㅤ﹢ㅤ1k wc

Kim Woonhak,

It’s stupid how you still have a mark in my life, the smallest importance with the biggest meaning. Your footprints over my soul never washed away, instead, they stay, stubborn and scratched, like rock carvings. To put it simply I hate you. That is pretty straightforward, isn’t it? I am like that, I have always been like that. Oh, wait you know that already. You used to find me simple, you loved that. Said we completed each other. Now, I cry in my bed thinking about all the lies you fed me about being best friends forever.

Oh, the lies you mastered so well!

I regret every one of those days I had called you up just so I could update you on my life. Every single secret, every laugh, and every tear I had told you of and every bit of our shared stories. I used to be interesting to you, so when did I become so boring that you had to find newer, more popular and cooler friends? What happened to our late-night chats, the ones till three where we both had to hide from our parents with excuses? Where are the stories now? Did you forget them as easily as you threw away our friendship? Did you tell your new friends my stories just so you could get a good laugh out of them? A good laugh out of the class’s lame bitch’s stories- yeah I believe you can do that. If anyone told me a year ago that Kim Woonhak is doing this I would have laughed at their faces. Now, I am the one who scoffs and tells those to the few classmates who feel sympathy for me.

Pathetic! I am pathetic!

There is still no note, no explanation, not a single sentence you said about this while I hold on to the thread loosely binding the last pieces of our friendship. Every time I asked you what was wrong you had one word, “Nothing.” Where was I wrong? I think I was wrong to put my trust in you. Tell me why you left our friendship as if it was not even worth the dirt under your shoe? Tell me why am I still hung up on our last conversation even if it was just you taking advantage of me and wanting my notes? Tell me, did I become lame after you found friends who are more popular than me? Tell me, was I lame the way I behaved? Or was it the way I became loud when I got excited or the way I laughed? Did that make you leave and go to your new friends who have the “cool” aura? How could you take everything I love and crush it so easily? Are your fingers that strong Woonhak?

What happened to our years of friendship Woonhak? Why does this hurt more than any break-up ever did? Why does every time now a simple, sub-important friendship breaks or an argument happens with my friends do I hurriedly apologise multiple times even if I was not in the wrong? Why does it always me feel maybe I am the rotten apple among my friends? Why does your face drop in my mind every time I think I am not enough? Why I am still hung up on you when I have so many newer friends who actually appreciate me? Why do I still picture myself in the mirror arguing with you and putting you in your place with my words and my confidence? Confidence I have only when I am alone? Why do I fantasize about a time you even feel a little fucking sorry for doing all this?

I have so many questions for you, questions I never got to ask and questions that formed later. What did I do for you to break this friendship? Where was I wrong? Why did you start ignoring me that Tuesday when we talked on Monday? Why did you make sure your whole new friend circle hate me? Why did you make fun of me with them? How could you do that? Did our friendship mean nothing to you? Was it that worthless? Was I wasting that much of your time?

Do you think I am being dramatic? Then explain this!

I have so many friends, but every time a minor crack appears, my insecurities build up. Insecurities that weren’t there till you crafted them. Insecurities that weren’t there till you made fun of me in front of me only. Insecurities that weren’t there before you decided to blatantly ignore me one day after our years of friendship. Insecurities that weren’t there until you decided the term best friend is not for me anymore. I would say we both drew blood, and we both got hurt, but were those cuts ever equal?

This is all very straightforward, isn’t it? That’s the second time I am asking you that. Because damn hell, it is. It is my rawest and truest emotions and I don’t want to twist my words to let you know this, which you never will. The worst part of the whole thing is that you will never read this, I will never send this and this will not get you a scratch but it is jabbing my heart multiple times. Twisting the knife you crafted especially for me and pushing it in repeatedly. Why would you do this all to me? Can we talk? Is there something there you never told me and let it build inside you? Or am I just simply horrible? I wish I could let it go, I have tried so many times but I can’t. I wish I could forgive you but what should I forgive you and your cocky, small-minded friends for? Nothing! It is terrible how you come into my mind whenever the smallest incident occurs and I think of telling you, and then it hits me again.

You are still everything to me while I am nothing to you!

From Y/n

ー☆ㅤㅤ [ ara's notes ] ㅤ੭𓂃 ㅤ is this self-indulgent? yes, a lot! i will be back with bonedo fluff tho TT ㅤ𓏧ㅤ library ㅤ bnd shelfㅤ navi

੭ 𝅄ㅤ ꒰ TAGLIST ꒱ ㅤ⏤ㅤ @haneagerr @slytherinshua ㅤ𓏧ㅤ fill this or comment or ask to be added.

ㅤㅤ(ㅤㅤ© arafilez on tumblrㅤㅤ)

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aburningconstellation · 1 month

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things that i think thrawn + the ascendancy gang would love (part 2)

thrawn: earning as many doctorate & masters degrees as possible (he loves being able to say that he’s a master at everything from art history to underwater basket weaving - & he has the diplomas to prove it)

eli: the dying crafts list + being the one person preventing so many crafts from not being practiced anymore (he tries to teach them to the sky-walker girls with varying degrees of success)

ar’alani: women’s sports in general, but also really niche sports (you know she was playing pickleball way before everyone else, but now that it’s kind of popular she’s moving on to like roller derby or something)

wutroow: the duolingo owl - not the app, the owl specifically (even though she speaks like 5 languages already & will 10000% learn another just so she can gossip without other people being able to eavesdrop). also chappell roan.

che’ri: spontaneously chopping off all your hair in the bathroom at 2am (&& probably giving yourself bangs too for good measure)

samakro: renaissance festivals (you know he’s got a giant turkey leg in one hand, a mug of ale in the other + is booking it to axe throwing)

thalias: modern adaptations of jane austen novels (no one appreciates yearning like she does)

faro: driving late at night with your windows down & a killer playlist blaring (bonus points if it like just rained & you can smell it in the air)

ba’kif: sam reich on game changer (he wants his cedf officers to experience just a fraction of the stress they put him under so badly)

thrass: the headspace meditation app (also under so much stress, but handling it in a very different way)

thurfian + zistalmu: the reesa teesa ‘who tf did i marry’ tiktok series (this much hot goss? for free?! they’re sat)

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anika-ann · 5 months

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A Night at the Museum (A.B.)

Type: one-shot, fluffiest fluff; canon-divergence from Defending Jacob

Pairing: Andy Barber x reader WC: 5000

Summary: You always loved wandering through your museum after closing time – there was something so peaceful about it, a new layer of beauty to space and all the art that adorned the walls.

Tonight however, the peace is interrupted by a charming handsome man who has no business to be there… will you throw him out?

Warnings: 18+ for allusions to smut, TOOTH. ROTTING. FLUFF., uncomplete list to keep some mystique - so read at your own risk (but no supernatural elements)

A/N: a story dedicated to lovely @chase-your-dreams-away ✨, to everyone who enjoys a tooth-rotting fluff and to all you lovelies who support my writing shenanigans - you know who you are, giving me love and life 💕 Happy Holidays, if you celebrate! // divider by @firefly-graphics

Every single step you took felt so light it was almost as if you were floating.

The endless beauty adorning the walls, the soft intimate lights reserved for occasional night visiting hours only accentuating the already romantic atmosphere of the art museum, walking through the halls and galleries equalled a magnificent experience that made your soul shiver and yet feel at peace. You let the serenity wash over you as you roamed the art museum, already having helped usher the lingering visitors outside. The sound of your heels echoed in the vast galleries, your eyes drawn from one beautiful piece of art to another, even as you had seen them all a hundred times.

There were simply sights in this world that would never get old, you mused, a small smile playing on your lips, a slow steady pace bringing you to another section – and having you freeze in your step.

Just standing there without a care for the outside world, apparently immersed in admiring a painting – one of favourite, you realized distantly – stood a man. A man who most definitely did not worked here. Your heart skipped a beat.

“Excuse me, sir,” you called out lowly, anything louder than a that feeling wrong in the otherwise quiet gallery. “It’s after hours. You can’t be here.”

He startled too at the first sound of your voice – his head snapped to you, piercing but kind blue eyes wide with surprise, as if you brought him down from a haze, from a deep thought; from thorough appreciation of art. You would have smiled at that, since you knew the feeling too well, but you were too distracted by the man’s handsome face.

Awfully, unbearably handsome, with a ruffle of dark hair and a clearly well-kept beard, a dark blue suit that only highlighting his beautiful eyes, hands slipping from his pockets as he straightened upon facing you; his biceps bulged a bit with that movement, visible even under the suit jacket. There was a good-natured expression on his face, a pleasant note in his voice as he responded on the same volume, if not slightly quieter.

“Oh. Sorry.”

His voice was as lovely to hear as his face was to look at; almost like he had belonged here, the central piece among the sea of art, a sculpture capturing the peak of a man crafted by talented hands of the old masters.

As you walked closer to him, your chest ached a little; he wasn’t just handsome. He was drop-dead gorgeous. And while that didn’t authorise him to be here, it sure made your approach more amicable. You were only human, after all.

“I was actually heading out,” he continued, “but I just… got a little caught up in admiring the art.”

The corners of your lips rose involuntarily. You could see that easily happening to anyone – it was after all a painting close to your own heart and soul. Some might call it too simple – an image of hands, one larger, rougher than the other, held out palm up to the other, softer, smaller one, fingertips barely brushing, the mahogany brown background with a few lighter strokes of brush adding an aura of warmth. But its simplicity and what some would call imperfections were deceiving.

Many would argue that hundreds of art students all over the world drew a hand study every day. Masterfully executed or not, this particular piece of art could indeed be called plain; but it wasn’t. As things stood, the painting was no Creation of Adam, your all-time favourite, but it had earned a rightful place in the art gallery and n your heart, and it wasn’t only because of how old the painting was or who had created it.

If you were being honest, you were never able to quite put your finger on why, but it always tended to touch something deep inside you. So truly, you understood the man perfectly.

He had no business being here so late – and yet. Perhaps for his pretty face and his breathtaking physique indeed, perhaps for his warm gaze having returned to the painting with curious, soft eyes – you couldn’t just have him dragged away, keen on hearing his insight instead.

“How so?” you inquired.

His gaze snapped back to you, surprised. He examined you for a bit, as if he couldn’t figure out whether you were asking or just bidding your time before security found you, but in the end, he just smiled, slightly embarrassed.

“Oh, I couldn’t say. I don’t know the first thing about art, so I can’t even appreciate it properly-“

“Of course you can,” you interrupted him, regretting your hastiness when his eyes widened, watching you intently. You smiled apologetically, gaze dropping before it returned to the painting, the sight of the beautiful man too much – and you were used to looking at art every day. “What I mean is… sure, the knowledge of history of art and art technique can help you recognize a painting’s value to the world, but not its value to yourself.”

You cringed internally; you sounded like a fool, a pretentious one at that, contradicting your own words. And yet, his voice was soft when he spoke again without a hint of offense.

“I’ll take your word for it… but still. Might help to have a guide… what do you like about this painting?” he asked, gaze returning to the art in question. “That is, if you like it at all.”

“I like it a lot, actually. It’s one of my favourites.”

“How so?” he echoed your earlier words, something about the way his gaze flickered to you making you feel warm all over. He sounded genuinely curious. About what you thought. He seemed interested in your very personal insight; and in the intimate lightening of the gallery, you reluctantly gave in, all too aware of how close you seemed to stand now, side by side, barely two feet apart.

“I like how it makes me feel. I like wondering what made the artist capture this particular moment in time – not sooner, not later. Not when the hands touch further or part completely. And what the moment even is. All that wondering just leaves a lasting impression.”

“Yeah… I suppose that’s what I could say as well,” he mused, tilting his head slightly to side as he considered your words. “Tell me more.”

It wasn’t an order – despite the wording, it sounded more like a plea. Something pleasing hummed in your chest, a gentle stroke to your ego.

“It’s the position of the hands. Hands can be so expressive, we can say so much with them, with a touch. And I don’t mean it in the sense of sign language, where people literally use them to form words agreed upon earlier, but… they can convey feelings, capture so much more than words themselves often can,” you tried to explain, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. You sounded like a crazy person who read Jane Austen too much – and you were all too aware. You often couldn’t help it, when you talked about art – but the poor man didn’t sign up for this. You chuckled bashfully. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”

“Not at all,” he opposed, causing you to risk a side-way glance. His gaze lost nothing of its warmth, quite the opposite; his lips melted in a gentle smile and he was certainly paying more attention to you than the painting. You’d lie if you said it wasn’t flattering. And the electricity you seemed to feel in the air sure wasn’t unpleasant either. “I never thought of it this way, but I certainly cannot argue with that. And I argue for living.”

“Ah. A lawyer then?” you said, his hands rising in surrender in response.

He had really nice and big hands. Someone should paint them. And he should put them on me.

“Guilty as charged.”

“And with a sense of humour, I see.”

There was something a little shy and definitely intimate about his laugh, his gaze firmly on yours. “I have been told I only have old man jokes these days.”

“Well, that’s just rude. You should have that person arrested for such insult.”

“That’s not how this works.” He was laughing again, crinkles around his eyes. He had such a gentle laugh, quiet, fitting for the space. “Now… what do you think is happening here then?” he beckoned to the painting.

You pursed your lips, accepting his prompt.

“Well, that’s one of the things I love about it so much – it can be whatever you want it to be. A man and a woman… there’s this atmosphere of longing. Tenderness to the touch. Uncertainty, as if they aren’t sure if they are allowed. The man especially. Maybe they are future lovers…” You felt your cheeks heat, blush spreading as the man’s eyes flickered to yours. “Maybe not. Maybe it’s a goodbye.”

“How do you figure?”

“The blurry lines,” you whispered, your smile turning dreamy. You truly did love this piece – it conveyed so much emotion, offered so many interpretations. Made you feel so much. “They’re not accidental – the moment is hazy. Maybe it’s a memory, a painful one, a memory of a goodbye smeared by unshed tears. Maybe it’s a dream – dreaming about what can’t be, no matter what the heart desires.”

“Wishful thinking,” he murmured under his breath.

“Yeah.”

“Maybe he’s an artist asking his muse to be let into her favour.”

Your head snapped to him in surprise; but for once, he kept looking at the painting. Still, your breath caught; that definitely was a lovely interpretation.

“Maybe.”

“What else?”

Your gaze returned to the painting, even as your gaze was drawn to him instead, distracted, your thoughts consumed by the image of his handsome profile and the well-fitting suit – and those damn hands. He stood even closer now, slightly behind you; you could almost feel his warm breath on your cheek, the woodsy tones of his cologne wrapping around you like a blanket. You could get in trouble, lingering here, with him – but deep down, you felt you’d happily do so. And probably thank him for it.

He spoke again before he gathered your wits, a warm smile in his voice. “Could be a lonely artist who set his eyes on the most beautiful of women…”

You felt the back of his hand brush yours. No accident; a lover’s caress. You felt tingles spread thought your whole body from the point of contact, your heart thundering in your chest even as it shouldn’t have.

He shouldn’t have such an effect on you. Not after two years of much more intimate touches, teasing brushes of his fingertips, his palms roaming your body firmly, his lips appreciating every inch of your skin. A simple touch of a hand shouldn’t have made you shiver, but it did. With Andy, it always did. Especially when he talked like that, your face growing warmer by the second at his praise. Because it was clear he was no longer talking about the painting on the wall. Not when he ran his fingers over the back of your hand before turning it so your own hand slipped into his easily, and squeezed.

“…and was somehow insanely lucky that she accepted when he asked her out two years ago. And ever since then, his life’s been full of happiness he thought was no longer in cards for him. How’s that for knowledge of history?” he asked cheekily now, full grin spreading on his lips as he pulled lightly on your hand to spin you around to face him, his free hand already cupping your cheek as you giggled, letting the façade fall.

“You’re a charmer and a flatterer,” you muttered as he leaned in for a kiss, palm cradling your face and guiding you closer to his lips, soft whiskers tickling your face as your lips finally met.

His hand released yours, sneaking around your waist instead, deepening the kiss, making your toes curl in your pumps even after having received thousands kisses like this from him.

You had met pretty much like this – with you working late and him charming your wits out of you and having you lose yourself in his beautiful blues, mesmerized by his almost startlingly handsome face, even if he had been the one who had got a bit lost in the museum complex. Sparks flew, hearts fluttered, hands wandered – much sooner than they ever had in your previous relationship. But the whirlwind of passion was wrapped in an intimacy on an emotional level too – you had never fallen so fast, body, mind and soul, but Andy Barber was simply special. Bless his heart, he hadn’t really known much about art back then – but he had a quick mind and willingness to learn, eager to listen to you as you talked about your long-life love, watching you with a curious adoring gaze, a patient smile on his lips.

He told you he’d pick you up after work so you could celebrate the two-year anniversary of your first date. So as soon as you shoed away the last visitors, you hurried to the staff room to freshen up at least a bit. Andy hadn’t told you where he would take you up until two hours ago – where he called you on your short break to inform you that he was, in fact, a sneak who had an exceptional way with words.

Bribing your colleagues with god-knows-what, he had arranged for you to have the museum for yourselves up until midnight – a private tour with the softened lights saved for the evening, likely wandering hand in hand, beauty surrounding you as well as love. You had no doubt he had brought refreshments too, having left work right after lunch, probably preparing one of his excellent recipes; the premise of spending your special night like this with him had you giddy and soft for the rest of your shift. So when you saw him standing there like that, you couldn’t help but re-act your first encounter for a bit – but you didn’t expect him to lean into it so fully, letting you relive the awe of a handsome stranger being so impressed by whatever you had to say.

The nip of teeth on your lower lip brought you back to reality, heat swirling in your belly, having you press into Andy’s firm body further, not an inch left between you just as it should be, especially since your head was already beginning to spin with the lack of oxygen.

He was the one to retreat, smiling against your lips, nose caressing yours, your palms smoothening over his shoulders lovingly.

“You started it,” he opposed, pecking your lips again and then once more for a good measure, a little breathless himself. When you met his gaze, you saw nothing but adoration in his eyes. “I simply played along. …hi, by the way.”

You chuckled and returned his greeting, meeting his lips once more.

“Hi stranger. Happy anniversary.”

His smile was almost blinding as he tucked the lose strand of your hair behind your ear, fingertips stroking your cheek.

“Happy anniversary, sweetheart,” he whispered, eyes roaming your face so attentively – as if he was admiring what had been no doubt etched into his memory by now – that your felt your skin heat up again, gaze lowering timidly. “You’re beautiful. I love you.”

I love you. It was a simple admission – but that didn’t mean it still didn’t send your heart flutter, especially when he looked at you as if you were the single most precious piece of art in the whole complex.

“I love you too—what?” you questioned, when his eyes suddenly flickered behind you, back to the painting, and a frown twisted his features.

“There’s something missing,” he mused, causing your chest to spasm with panic. You spun on your heels and escaped his embrace so fast you nearly toppled over. Your eyes frantically searched for any sign of what was wrong – a missing plate with description? Had piece of the golden frame broken away? A- “I do like the painting, but it’s just… it’s missing something.”

You huffed out a breath of relief, turning back to Andy swiftly, hitting his chest with the back of your hand, earning a burst of silent laughter.

“Sorry-“

“You are not! Don’t do that, Andrew!” you whisper-yelled, your ribcage actually aching a bit from the sudden scare. “I’d be in real trouble if there was something missing, you know that! But do enlighten me, Mr. I Don’t Know The First Thing About Art. What is missing here?”

He had the decency to look a tiniest bit guilty as he gently touched your shoulders, spinning you back to the painting, wrapping his arm over your middle to pull you flush to his front.

“Don’t get me wrong. It’s beautiful. I know you love this one. But I… I think finally figured out what the scene is about,” he explained slowly, voice dropping back to a whisper, only a trace of gentle laughter in his pleasant timbre.

“Oh?” you inquired nonchalantly, still pouting a bit even as your exasperation evaporated as quickly as it had appeared. You could get fired if something got lost on your watch, so that was a mean joke �� but you should have known better. You had known him for two years now after all.

“Uh-huh,” he hummed, guiding your hands to lay on your stomach, placing one of his warm palms over them, chin resting on your shoulder. “Well, obviously, they are a man and a woman.”

“Is that how you win all the cases at court? With your excellent observation skills and dead-on-point arguments, Mr. Obvious?”

Andy continued, unbothered by your snarky teasing.

“And he’s an old, maybe a little dorky man, who is crazy in love with this gorgeous woman with passion for art…”

The corners of your lips twitched as you turned your head to him, nose nudging his cheek as you understood where this was going. “You’re not that old… but you’re plenty sappy for sure.”

“Who said I was talking about us?” he teased, squeezing your hands again as he nudged you to look forward again despite your prolonged ‘riiiight’. “But he’s a little bit like the artist, asking a muse for her favour… he’d feel like the luckiest man on Earth if she’d allow him.”

You leaned your weight back onto Andy’s warm body, tilting your head, as a full smile spread on your lips along with the sweetest warmth curling in your heart.

“Well… I know you said it’s not us, but… if it were, he wouldn’t have to ask. He’s already plenty in her favour.”

You let your eyes slip shut, revelling in the feeling of being in the arms of the man you loved, almost tasting his own affection for you on your tongue, feeling it float in the air. You felt at peace; safe, warm and loved. Nothing could measure up to the serenity of the moment. Whatever Andy had planned for you two, as nice as it no doubt was, it didn’t matter much – you could just stay like this for hours, with his lips occasionally reaching to kiss your cheek, your temple.

“I adore you, Andrew Stephen Barber,” you sighed. “Sappy and all.”

His chest rumbled behind you as he hummed, his finger softly stroking your hand, pulling you somehow even closer to him. “Well perhaps he’s asking something else then.”

You felt your eyebrows rise, eyes fluttering open, smile still plastered on your face – you were probably grinning like a loon at this point.

“What’s he asking then? And what was that thing you said was missing?”

He caressed your fingers again. You felt him gulp behind you before he straightened and took your left hand, bringing it to your shoulder, to his lips, his hold on you never faltering.

“Maybe he’s asking if he could gain her favour forever.”

You chuckled breathlessly. Sap. For someone who had already been married once, even if mostly for convenience of an unplanned child, and then got divorced, he sure stayed a romantic.

“Forever is a long time,” you hummed noncommittally, not at all opposed to the idea though.

Andy was without doubt your Prince Charming in a three-piece suit, the wishful image of a happily ever after having crossed your mind more than once. With him, forever sounded sweet – and entirely plausible.

“Yeah, I know. But I want to try my luck asking anyway.”

That was the only warning you got before Andy suddenly released you from his embrace and used the gentle hold he still had on your left hand to turn you to face him, the strangest expression on his face.

Adoration. Affection. Worry. A nervous smile.

Nervous? What reason-

The realization slammed into you the very second Andy began to drop to one knee, a voiceless ‘oh my god’ knocked out of you along with your breath. A little blue box held up in his free palm, he gazed up at you as you watched him with wide eyes already filling with tears.

God, had you had any capacity to do so, you’d feel like a dumbass for not figuring out sooner what all his talk had meant. Why the missing thing. Why this was the painting he decided to stand in front of, this one among hundred others that adorned the walls of this place. Why the hand that had been right under his had been your left one, the whole time, and he hadn’t been caressing all your fingers. He had been – perhaps subconsciously – tracing a line of a ring which he hoped to put on your ring finger.

“Andy-”

“Sweetheart… I’m supposed to be great with words, but now when you’re actually facing me when I kneel here, they all… disappeared. But know that I love you. I love you with everything I am, with my whole heart. I will never understand art as well as you do, but I promise I’ll never stop trying and never stop listening, because I want to understand everything you love. I promise I will always do all I can to stay in your favour, in the favour of a woman who might as well be a muse herself,” he whispered hoarsely, his eyes turning glassy as a huge lump grew in your throat, several tears escaping you and rolling down your cheeks even as you were biting your lip – as not to cry, a not to laugh giddily.

He wanted to marry you. He wanted to spend the rest of your lives with you and he wanted to make it as tangible as possible. He made this damn moment all about you, a true promise, a true testimony that he meant what he was saying. You bit your tongue hard as not to blurt out your answer before he could even ask the question.

He choked a little as he said your full name, thumb pressing to the edge of the box for it to open and reveal a no doubt beautiful ring – but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at it, not when his lips twitched in a smile, his hand a little clammy as he still held yours. Or perhaps it only felt that way because your own were trembling, your heart threatening to beat its way out of your chest?

“Will you marry me?” he asked at last, finishing the question with a wide grin as you started to nod halfway through, the yes escaping a little too loud in the enormous room, the echo drowned in Andy’s relieved laugh, his hands – indeed shaking – slipping the ring on your ring finger meticulously before rising to his feet and framing your face with his palms and smashing his lips to yours, a grin to a grin, salty tears to salty tears.

Your fingers found purchase into his locks, holding onto him for dear life as he kissed you with vigour, nearly bending you backwards in half, one hand gripping your nape, the other moving to your lower back instead for better balance as he continued to steal your breath all for himself, an insistent press of his lips tasting like heaven and a promise of happiness.

“I love you.” A kiss to your lips. “I love you.” A kiss to your nose. “I love you so fucking much-“

You giggled against his lips, returning the affection as much as you could, your heart pounding in your chest, pressed against Andy’s ribcage – his heart was racing too, as if he had run a marathon or argued the case of his life in front of a full courtroom.

“I love you too-“

“Thank you-“

You laughed breathlessly, yelping when his hands slipped under your thighs and he lifted you to up to spin you around, a brilliant smile on his face.

“You’re a sneak, Andrew Barber,” you teased him, the world still spinning even as he set you down, taking both of your hands to place a tender kiss to your fingers.

It was the first time you actually took a proper look at the shiny ring – and your breath caught in your throat, eyes burning, nose tingling with fresh tears.

“Andy…”

It was gorgeous – and most definitely not a mindlessly picked piece of jewellery with the biggest diamond in a ten-mile radius to show off. No. Much like he had shown dedication to the proposal itself – you were getting married, holy damn, Andy just PROPOSED – he must have put plenty of thought into choosing what was to adorn your finger for hopefully a very long time; forever even. Delicate but intricate in design, a bigger centre stone with what seemed to be a thousand of tiny gemstones surrounding it as a halo in an unpredictable but beautiful pattern. He must have spent a fortune on it – it was a piece of art itself. Probably one of a kind.

Just like the gem of a man who now stood in front of you with a mix of pride and bashfulness in his expression as you admired your new accessory – a new promise.

You met his gaze, eyes probably shining brighter than the ring.

“It’s gorgeous,” you sighed, unable to resist and leaning in for another kiss, hoping to pour all your gratitude and delight into his lips. “I see what you did here, Andy. Thank you… and I really really adore you, you have no idea. I’m the lucky one.”

He shook his head with a grin, nudging your nose with his, hugging you close. “Let’s agree to disagree, sweetheart…”

A smirk pulled at the corner of your lips. “Mr. Barber… are you already disagreeing with your future wife?”

Judging by certain sensation against your belly, you weren’t the only one who felt a shot of euphoria through your veins when you said it; Andy’s pupils dilated, gaze flickering to your lips, this time with less than sweet intent, hand wandering from your lower back to the globes of your ass instead.

You giggled and let him pull you to him until you realized the direction you were facing – not. Because like this, Andy’s hand appreciating your ass was perfectly visible to the camera.

“Andy, wait-“

“I wouldn’t dare to disagree… guess we can both thank to our lucky stars then…” he muttered, completely ignoring your protest, lips nearing yours, suddenly painfully slow, butterflies fluttering in your stomach despite the rational voice in he back of your head that your really shouldn’t give in. But how when his palm sprawled further, long fingers reaching to your quickly heating centre.

“An-“

He swallowed your noise of protest and plea at once, your knees buckling an inch when he stroked over your covered slit.

“Celebrate with me?” he whispered against your lips, his hips rutting against yours making you whimper.

“Andy, the cameras-“

“-are off, I bribed the guard, I swear-“ he cut you off as his other hand slipped under your pencil skirt, already tracing the line of your panties on your thigh.

“Andy-“ you whined as his lips retreated only to pepper soft slow kisses down the column of your throat, your head tilting back on its own volition as your body craved his touch, your core now throbbing. He’d better not be joking about the cameras, otherwise you really would-

“Come on, love, you gonna let me pin you to the wall like the masterpiece you are deserves?” he whispered and it was a terrible, terrible line, but he nipped at your pulse point and your feet obliged as he back you into the wall, fingers pushing the soaked fabric of your underwear to side, finding your hot and wet and waiting for him. A groan escaped his lips, his hard cock rutting into you as his fingertips teased your slit. “Gonna let me paint you all pretty with my cum, like a good little wife?”

“Jesus, Andy-“

“Gonna say yes to me one more time today, won’t you?” he demanded huskily, a knowing teasing lull to his voice as he kissed you again, letting you taste his sinful smile. He knew you would. You could never tell him no, not when you knew what awaited you was pure bliss, a loving but no less filthy ecstasy.

It was wrong. It was beautiful. It was insane and you’d happily take the leap. You were getting married. What other answer was there, especially with such a reward in your reach?

“Yes,” you sighed, head hitting the wall lightly, the hard warm planes of Andy’s body indeed pinning you in place, right between two damn exquisite painting. “Yes, I will.”

And then, because that beautiful bastard seducing you in the least appropriate place deserved a retaliation, you breathed out the last coherent words you could form before Andy made you forget how to do so:

“I will always say yes to my husband.”

Misc characters masterlist

Full masterlist

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed 🥰

Once again, Happy Holidays to all who celebrate 💕

Headboard info: framed picture from this artist (edited) - https://displate.com/displate/5918780, gif from Tenor

#r #andy barber x reader #andy barber imagine #andy barber x you #andy barber #defending acob au #andy barber fluff #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber fanfic #a night at the museum #anika ann #gift fic

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ovobawrites · 6 months

Text

𝐵𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽: 𝐸𝓅𝒾𝓈𝑜𝒹𝑒 𝒮𝒾𝓍 ♡ 𝐹𝒷𝑜𝓎𝓈 𝒜𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓎𝓂𝑜𝓊𝓈

disclaimer: this has already been posted on ao3 and quotev, i'm just reposting this beach episode special as a promo for the fic. after this is all my previous author notes.

this is a fem!reader and also a half chinese!reader insert.

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The rest of the dinner had consisted of the group finding more and more extreme ways to remove Lilia's 'dessert' off of their plates. Malleus and Silver, experts at this craft, had simply casted spells under the table to remove spoonfuls of the 'cake' every so often while Lilia's eyes were elsewhere. Ortho helped Idia by blasting the 'food' with micro beams of technomatic energy to give off the illusion of Idia slowly eating it. Trey simply casted his unique magic and enjoyed the dessert wholeheartedly, nevermind the fact that it tasted distinctly like candied violets and not like a red velvet cake.

You absentmindedly spinned the dainty silver spoon in your hand as you debated the merits of merely excusing yourself from dinner with 'monthly problems' as the root cause. On one hand, there'd be no need to eat the most poisonous creation you'd ever seen. On the other, having a bunch of awkward eye contact and boys trying to 'help' with offerings of chocolate and the like was not on your agenda for this vacation. You continued to spin your cutlery as you watched Trey take pity on Riddle and Cater enough to help them out, just as Jamil finished faking his test for poison and proclaimed the dessert contained a certain food dye additive that Kalim was totally allergic too. And in fealty to his master, Jamil too would not partake in the cake.

Vil and Rook already had the excuse of watching their figures to avoid partaking in dessert, an excuse that Lilia took at face value, promising to use less oil to reduce trans fat next time he makes a cake. The question, of course, was how much oil was Lilia putting in his cakes before? From a glance at Silver's face, way too much. It does explain the yellow liquid with suspended droplets of red that flowed out of the moist yet dry mass in front of you.

Leona had already conked out, declaring that he only eats meat and will never partake in a food that contains 'herbivore products' whatever that meant. Ruggie, meanwhile, was eating the food with gusto, gladly eating Leona's portion as well. You could guess why, starvation had a knack for making one distinctly more appreciative of food. Even if Lilia's cooking was barely edible, Ruggie would still eat and enjoy it. Tragic, was it not?

Floyd and Jade had started moving their food to Azul's plate, letting the oblivious housewarden magic away their food as well as his own. From the frustrated look on Azul's face, you could guess he hadn't figured out the ruse to the game just yet.

Lilia flourished in all of you 'enjoying' his food, flushed with pride as he described the painstaking process of making the cake. "At first," he said, "I added two drops of the food colouring. But then, I realised, it was never gonna be a 'red velvet cake' without more red! So I dumped the whole bottle in." Lilia puffed his chest out, awaiting praise for correcting this foolhardy decision.

"T-that's lovely." Silver said weakly in reply. "I'm glad you corrected your mistake early on."

"And Trey didn't say a word, that sly devil." Lilia continued, wagging his finger teasingly at his cooking partner. "You were waiting for me to learn it myself, were you not?"

Trey nodded with a smile and a twitching eye. "Yep, I figured you'd realise it eventually."

Lilia guffawed at that. "I'm glad you have such respect for your elders, boy, but next time you should keep in mind that my memory is not as pristine as your own."

Lilia really needs to stop saying such mysterious things. Even if Fae age slower than humans, shouldn't he act more his 'mental age' than his physical one? Though... with his cooking I'd gladly accept dementia as its excuse.

You sighed quietly, as you decided to take the path of least resistance. You used your food to push the pile of ashes around your plate, giving an illusion of eating it. It seemed less like you weren't eating the food at all, merely picking at it slowly due to a lack of appetite. It really was too bad that Lilia wasn't a better cook.

Soon enough, the conversation petered out and you stood to dump the 'rest of' your dessert in the food waste bin. Lilia never noticed, not with his distraction and the purposeful silence of your movements. As you went to wash your dishes in the sink, more and more of the boys filed in, all having made deals or negotiations for one to do their dishes for the night.

The suds and the hot water that ran over your skin was familiar as you quickly cleaned up, casting a quick spell under your breath to dry off the dishes and put them away. As you turned around, you smiled at Ruggie and Jamil, the two of them rapidly scrubbing through the plates at a practiced pace. Not too slow to be noticed, but slow enough to get away with just a few moments to themselves. But your attention was taken away by the dark sky, signaling it was about time for you to take some time to yourself. You wanted the opportunity to check up and fix up your wards, with Idia's presence, they were likely weakened a little.

It was a habit by this point, constantly keeping an eye or two on the wards around your room. The incident was ingrained in your head, to the point where even a day where you didn't check up on them caused this debilitating feeling of fear. Another intruder in your room was something you hoped to never happen again.

(You were resigned, of course, to the truth of the matter. That it would continue to happen for as long as you were alive. This bloodline that you were born into came cursed with the constant threat of assassins, or worse. For all you could act trusting of your friends, you were never sure when, exactly, they'd come to sell you out. You just hoped it wasn't soon. Hoped to be able to enjoy this illusion of camaraderie for a little while longer.)

You quietly walked up the steps to your room, the group already dispersing amongst themselves into groups of each dorm. A distinct feeling of loneliness overcame you as you watched them separate, yet were never alone. What you would give to have that easy friendship.

There was a knock on your door at 9 o'clock in the evening, just as you were finishing up with warding your room once more.

"Who is it?" You called out, a pleasant lilt to your voice as you awaited an answer from behind the door. A quick brushstroke to finish off the character for 'warning' and you should be done for the day.

"it's Trey." A familiar voice replied.

"And Cater!" Another chimed in. "We were wondering if you wanted to play a board game with the rest of us? Apparently Jade brought monopoly with him."

"Oh, sure, I'd love to play." You stood up from your desk and made way to the door, snagging your magic pen as you opened it up. "Shall we go downstairs, then?"

"Of course!" Cater perked up and dashed down immediately.

Trey smiled softly at you and offered an arm. "My lady." He said with a chuckle and a teasing look in his eye.

You giggled in reply. "How chivalrous." You took the proffered arm and walked downstairs with him at a more sedentary pace.

"We don't have enough pieces for all of us." Jade sighed with a faked look of regret on his face, before his ever-present smile snapped back on. "It seems like we'll have to be in teams, perhaps teams of four?"

"There's eighteen of us," Riddle noted, "so teams of three would be the perfect number."

The smile on Jade's face froze over, though he continued his pleasant countenance. "Of course. I guess the dorms will be splitting up then."

"I think the dorms with three members already work out." Jamil spoke up, "So some of the groups of two will be splitting up instead."

"Rook and I claim (Y/N)." Vil said from his seat on the sofa. "Any objections?"

The glares he got from Leona and Jade were harsh enough to kill, yet they said no word in reply. Always happy to hang out with the pomefiore students, you sat sandwiched between Vil and Rook when the two shifted to make room.

"I can team up with Ruggie and Leona!" Kalim exclaimed from where he was seated, ecstatic grin on his face. "This is gonna be super fun!"

"It'd be even better with a feast..." Ruggie sighed to himself, a glint of sardonic humour in his eye.

Kalim perked up even more. "That's a great idea. Next time we have a board game night, we should make it a feast!"

Jamil sighed. "There's no way I'm making that much food for that many people in such short time Kalim."

"Great! Then I can help out!" He beamed.

"And I could as well." Lilia chimed in with a smile.

A shudder ran through the group.

"Ah... sorry Lilia..." Kalim started, "but you don't know any dishes from Scalding Sands... so..."

"I prefer to cook alone." Jamil interjected.

Lilia drooped down with a frown. "That's too bad, then."

A clap of his hands brought all eyes to Jade. "Now that the teams are sorted, shall we start choosing our pieces?"

"Oh-oh, dibs on the money bag!" Kalim moved to grab the metal piece when Ruggie revealed it in his hand with a familiar laugh. "Good job, Ruggie!" He patted the hyena beastman on the head before moving to sit back down on the floor at the feet of his team.

"Can we have the dog?" You asked politely from your place on the sofa. Jade wordlessly passed it to you, gaining a grateful smile. You turned to your teammates, wondering quietly: "Are there any strategies for monopoly?"

"Buy everything you land on and get good roles." Vil intoned. "So we should have Rook roll, since he has the best luck of all of us."

"Ah, you flatter me dear Roi du Poison." Rook said with a hand to his chest. "I'd be glad to handle the heavy work for our team. I wouldn't want to see any calluses on either of your soft hands."

Bit weird to say but I appreciate the sentiment.

"And you will handle the money." Vil looked at you. "I'll handle the talking and negotiating. If any auctions come up, I'll bet too. Got it?"

"Roger that!"

"Of course, beautiful Vil."

"Good." He leaned forwards, a competitive gleam to his eyes, "Then shall we win this game?"

"Wait- how does one even play monopoly?" Malleus wondered from his place on the couch.

Trey sighed. "This is gonna be a long night."

"A one." Lilia sighed as he moved the top hat onto another owned property. "How much do we owe you, Azul?"

Azul cackled. "Why, not too much, only 500 dollars!"

Malleus begrudgingly handed over the note to Floyd as the Octavinelle students laughed at their growing pile of money.

"This is unfair." Riddle spoke up from where his team had been sent to the floor, where 'the bankrupt should sit, so we know they're out of the game'. "Of course the board game club members will be the winning teams. We should play a better game."

"Aww, is goldfishie upset about losing so quickly?" Floyd teased with a shark-like grin. "That's too bad... maybe if you had longer arms you'd be able to make better rolls!"

Riddle slowly went red. "Is that. Another. Short joke, Floyd?" He gritted out as Trey and Cater started to coach him into calming down. Riddle only got a laugh in reply, further fanning the flames of his anger.

"We got a two and a one." Ruggie spoke up from the 'Jail' sofa. "Guess we're stuck in here for another turn."

"Good job Ruggie." Leona grinned, "We're out of the madhouse for a little longer."

"Let me out!" Kalim wailed from besides them. "I swear I did nothing wrong! I'm innocent, I swear it!"

"Kalim, this is just a game. You're not actually in jail." Jamil spoke up from his couch, bored out of his mind when Idia and Ortho were doing all the work.

"We got a lucky three!" Rook spoke up from besides you. "We escape le Roi d'Effort's tyrannical reign once more, my dear Roi et Reine."

"Good job, Rook." Vil congratulated, "But we are not out of the woods just yet."

"We don't have enough funds to reliably survive another rent from Idia's group." You murmured worriedly to him as you handed the 'banker', Trey, enough money for another house to your pink set.

"Trust me, dear, when have I ever lead this team astray?" Vil arched a perfect brow and stroked his hand through your hair in a comforting manner, smirk on his face.

"Uh oh, Azul, we got a five!" Floyd said worriedly as he looked between the board and the dice.

"I'm aware, Floyd." Azul pinched the bridge of his nose as he calculated the prices. "Jade, how is our bank looking?"

"We still have plenty of funds, sir." He reported with a smile.

"You owe us 2000 dollars." Vil interrupted. "We just added a house there."

Jade paled. "The status is dire, Azul."

"Do we need to mortgage?"

"I'm afraid we will."

"Then do so."

A wide grin came to Idia's face as he looked over the board while the Octavinelle group struggled to pay yours. "We have this W in the bag, Ortho!" He paused for a moment, before a squeak. "And Jamil! We couldn't have done this without you!"

"I did nothing."

"Which is what we needed! If I was paired with Azul we would've lost by now... he's way too much of a control freak."

"I see." Jamil frowned in thought. "Thank you, then."

"...What was that Idia?" A threatening smile. "I hope you're prepared to face the consequences of what you've said..."

"My team is plenty prepared to beat yours. We're not the ones on the verge of bankruptcy after all." Jamil grinned, always pleased to go against Azul.

"And now you've even turned Jamil against me! We just cannot let this stand, right Jade and Floyd?" Azul turned to the tweels for support as he faked heartbreak from Jamil's cruel words.

"Nah. I'm bored." Floyd said, examining his nails before deciding to go back to teasing Riddle until he exploded again.

"LOL even your team doesn't want to help you!" Idia laughed, manic grin on his face. "Ortho, roll a five for us if you'd please."

"...It's a seven."

"Goddamnit."

It's been three hours since the group started playing monopoly, with no end in sight to the horrors off the game. For all you tried to end it, only one other group has gone bankrupt since.

"Finally, we're done for!" Ruggie sighed, relieved to be done with the game and to go to bed.

"Next time you should roll better." Leona glared. "We were this close to winning."

Ruggie looked at the other four groups still in the running and back to Leona, unimpressed.

"I think we did super well anyways! We weren't the first group out and that's all that matters!" Kalim piped in, trying to diffuse the tension.

"Eh, whatever." Leona yawned before going up the steps to his bedroom.

"Wh- Leona, aren't you gonna help clean our stuff up?" Ruggie yelled after him, and with the lack of reply, he groaned and went to pack the group's stuff up.

"I think I'll stay up." Kalim said to him. "I wanna see Jamil win!"

"Kalim... I doubt we're gonna be the winners at this rate." Jamil shook his head, the group funds of Ignihyde + Jamil and Octavinelle being significantly diminished since they declared war on each other.

"Shut up Jamil! We're gonna beat that stupid octopus into the ground, got it?!" Idia hissed, muttering calculations and win rates to Ortho as he surveryed the board with a manic look in his eyes.

Vil rolled his eyes. "This game will be way too long. Let's just-"

"NO FORFIETS ALLOWED!" Both Azul and Idia yelled at the same time, wanting to win 'fair and square', whatever that meant.

You tapped Vil on the shoulder and whispered a question to him. "Can I nap for a bit on your shoulder? I'm very much tired but... we can't exactly go to bed now." You shrugged with a weary smile.

"Whatever." He sighed in reply, and didn't say a word as you leant your head against his shoulder and with soft breaths as you drifted off to sleep.

You were still asleep when the game ended. Idia and Azul burnt each other out of the game, both throwing fits and arguing with each other as they went back to their rooms. Kalim, who had drifted off during the long game, was carried up to their shared room by Jamil with a groan off annoyance. Diasomnia somehow ended up winning despite the team only learning the rules a few hours ago.

Rook spoke up as Jade finished packing up the pieces. "Roi du Poison, I can always carry our dear Reine des Cygnes up the stairs if you'd rather go to sleep as soon as possible."

Vil shook his head. "It's fine, I can carry (Y/N) up myself." He merely glared at Rook when his vice housewarden gave a smug smile in reply. "Don't say a word."

"I won't!" He grinned.

"And don't look at me like that!"

"Like what?"

Vil didn't deign him with a reply and instead picked you up in a bridal carry to get to your room on the second floor. Worryingly, as he did so, you started to stir. His quiet and gentle movements didn't encourage you to go back to sleep, instead it merely woke you up as the two of you reached the top step.

You jolted in his arms. "I- Vil?!"

"What." He said flatly.

"Did you-" You spoke haltingly, tired and disoriented. "carry me up the stairs?"

Vil arched a brow. "Do you have a problem with that?"

You glanced away. "It's just that... you didn't have to go through the trouble, waking me up would suffice. I'm sorry for the bother."

"It was no bother at all." Vil's eyes pierced you as he continued to hold you up steadily. "If I wanted to wake you up, I would have done so. I don't mind doing this much for you." A rare smile graced his face as he looked upon you. "You are... precious to me, after all."

And with that, he set you down gently and walked down the stairs to his room, leaving you frozen in place. As you registered his words, a bright flush marked your cheeks. You hid your face behind your hands for a moment and sighed ever so quietly. Your heart thumped and a sea of butterflies flooded your stomach.

You wondered what that feeling was as you tucked yourself into bed for the night.

Mini Theatre Jade, packing a monopoly board in his luggage: I can't wait to be on a team with my three favorite people! I'd love to play monopoly with (Y/N)! Vil and Riddle: Allow us to introduce ourselves. Leona: I WANTED TO TEAM WITH HER DAMMIT NOW I'M WITH KALIM. Jamil: ...Finally... freedom...

and here is the sixth part of the beach ep. if you'd like to read the rest of the fic, you can read it on ao3 here, and on quotev here.

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snowmist-hashira · 11 months

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Hi! I have an idea on my mind and would like to request a scenario where y/n would send random ornaments she owned/bought to Muichiro, just in case he liked it. Whether they are pendants, paper crafts, or pens, he keeps them all. In contrast, y/n would lose her stuff frequently since she's a clumsy one. When she lost her handkerchief, Muichiro would tell her not to buy a new one as he kept handkerchieves that she'd sent him at his place, and he'd return one back for her to use.

The funny part is everyone has always thought she's Muichiro's Tsuguko since he would give her her personal possessions from his estate, but she's Shinobu's Tsuguko. When they realize y/n never leaves the butterfly estate, they ask why she's still here if she's not injured, and tell her to go back to Muichiro's, or joke that she's lucky Muichiro lets her stay here this long without coming back for training.

Your fics are mesmerizing and I'm always looking forward to more. Please take your time and have a nice day/night!❤️❤️

[Chapter title: Peculiar Affinities]

[Requested] Muichiro Tokitou x Reader

Wattpad:(One shots) Tokito Muichiro x Reader Archive:Kimetsu No Yaiba: Tokitou Muichiro x Reader Master list:♠ Information ♠ Word count: 1,192

Artist: こめ

Link: Pixiv

Thank you for your kind feedback! It's always a fluttering feeling to be acknowledged~ I hope that it can meet your expectations. Hopefully my other fanfictions can bring you the same level of satisfaction too~ Have a wonderful day/ evening as well! (Scheduled)

Y/n and Muichiro's relationship had a unique dynamic that caught the attention of other demon slayers. Y/n had a penchant for sending unusual items to Muichiro, hoping to find something that he would genuinely appreciate. These items ranged from pendants and paper crafts to pens, each with their own peculiar charm.

It began innocently enough. Y/n noticed Muichiro's reserved and enigmatic nature, and she wanted to find a way to connect with him on a deeper level. She discovered that Muichiro had a fondness for peculiar objects and appreciated the thoughtfulness behind them. Thus, Y/n took it upon herself to gather and send various items to him, hoping to spark a reaction or a smile.

The other demon slayers found this behavior rather odd. They couldn't quite grasp the concept of sending random items to a Hashira. Some even questioned the purpose behind Y/n's gesture, wondering if it was simply a playful prank or a genuine attempt to understand Muichiro better.

Ironically, in contrast to that, Y/n would frequently misplace or lose her belongings.

Y/n's frustration grew as she continued to search for the missing handkerchief. She furrowed her brows, retracing her steps in her mind.

"I'm positive I had it with me. I remember using it earlier during training," she said to no one, her voice tinged with mild exasperation.

A fellow comrade helped her combed through the training grounds, searching under training dummies, in corners, and even in the surrounding bushes.

Y/n couldn't help but chuckle at her own misfortune. "I swear, sometimes it feels like my belongings have a mind of their own. They just love to play hide-and-seek with me," she remarked, a mix of amusement and frustration evident in her voice.

"Well, your belongings must have quite the adventure when they're in your possession. Maybe they get bored and decide to wander off," they teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Y/n's lips curled into a playful smile. "Perhaps they're training to become stealthy ninja accessories. They'll surprise me one day when I least expect it," she replied, her tone filled with a touch of whimsy.

Their entire search was abruptly interrupted when a voice unexpectedly spoke from behind them, “what are you doing?” Y/n and the fellow demon slayer turned to face Muichiro Tokito, surprised by his sudden appearance.

"Ah, Tokito-san, Y/n misplaced her handkerchief, and I was helping her in searching for it," the slayer replied.

Muichiro's expression remained impassive as he observed the situation. His dull gaze shifted from Y/n to the fellow demon slayer and back again, seemingly contemplating their words. After a moment of silence, he finally spoke.

“Go back to training.” Muichiro told off the other, his voice firm.

The fellow comrade immediately flinched at Muichiro's command, clearly accustomed to his direct and no-nonsense demeanor. They nodded in response, understanding that it was best to comply with the mist pillar's instructions without further questioning.

"O-Of course, Tokito-san. I'll get back to my training," they stammered, quickly retreating from the scene.

Left alone with Y/n, Muichiro's gaze shifted to them once more, his eyes lingering for a moment before he spoke again. "No need to find it, I can give you a handkerchief back.” he said, his tone still composed but slightly softer than before.

Y/n's confusion deepened as Muichiro pulled out another patterned handkerchief from his pocket—one that she immediately recognized. Her eyes widened in realization. "Ah! Isn't that the one I sent you last week?" she exclaimed, a mix of surprise and amusement coloring her voice.

Muichiro's small smile confirmed her suspicion. He nodded; his expression gentle. "Yes, it is. You don't need to find the lost one," he replied, his voice holding a hint of warmth that was often hidden behind his calm demeanor.

“Um, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

This exchange between Y/n and Muichiro had become a somewhat regular occurrence, each incident adding to the peculiar yet charming nature of their bond. Y/n's natural clumsiness often led to the misplacement of her belongings, prompting Muichiro to step in and return them when he could.

Whether it was a spare item he had or something that Y/n had previously sent him, Muichiro always made an effort to reunite Y/n with her lost possessions despite his typically reserved nature.

The unusual dynamic between the two demon slayers caught the attention of their comrades, who often found themselves amused by the ongoing exchange. They marveled at how Y/n's clumsiness and Muichiro's penchant for keeping her belongings created a quirky pattern in their interactions.

The misunderstanding surrounding Y/n's position among the demon slayers added an extra layer of amusement to their dynamic with Muichiro. While it was true that Muichiro would often return Y/n's personal belongings, the assumption by others that Y/n was the mist pillar’s Tsuguko which was far from the truth.

In reality, Y/n held the position of Tsuguko to Shinobu Kocho’s, the Insect Hashira. This mix-up of roles and responsibilities led to many comical situations and raised eyebrows among their fellow demon slayers. People often wondered why Muichiro, a usually distant and aloof individual, would take it upon himself to return Y/n's belongings.

However, unaware of the circumstances, they questioned Y/n about her constant presence at the Butterfly Estate where her master, Shinobu Kocho, resided. "You're not injured, so why haven't you left the estate yet?" they inquired.

“Eh?” Y/n blinked, perplexed at their question.

"You should go back to Tokito-san's estate, you know," they commented, adding a playful joke, "You're lucky he's not dragging you back there to train."

Y/n blinked in surprise at the question, realizing the misunderstanding that had been circulating among her fellow comrades. With a soft chuckle, she clarified, understanding their confusion. "Oh, I am actually Shinobu’s Tsuguko."

Her fellow demon slayers exchanged puzzled glances, surprised by the revelation. "Wait, so you're not Tokito-san’s Tsuguko?” one of them asked, seeking confirmation.

Y/n shook her head. "No, not at all.”

"I had assumed you were his Tsugoku because of the special treatment he gives you," the other person said, their voice low and barely audible, their expression indicating the surprise and confusion.

“She calls him by his first name without fear too…" Another one exclaimed, whispering with a surprise evident in their voice.

"So Tokito-san really does have that kind of favoritism…" They whispered to each other, sharing a knowing look.

Y/n couldn't catch the whispered statements exchanged between the other demon slayers, leaving her puzzled. She stood there, blinking in confusion, trying to decipher the mixed emotions on her comrades' faces—frowns and smiles blending together.

The realization that they had been slacking off by engaging in conversation with Y/n caused them to sweat drop.

"We should get back to training," one of them acknowledged, feeling the weight of potential consequences if they continued to divert their focus from their responsibilities. The thought of facing a more demanding training session from Muichiro scared them, knowing how terrifying the Mist Pillar was despite being the youngest Hashira.

"Right. We don't have special privileges like Y/n..." They continued whispering to each other, while Y/n looked on in confusion, not catching the conversation due to their exchanged whispered statements.

“???”

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destielfanfic · 1 year

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from the inbox, #9

From the inbox, #9, special edition - Destiel fic reccing Now and Then

Hi! First of all, your blog is absolutely wonderful! I wish there were a billion more like it for all pairings and fandoms lol. Do you know of any other good supernatural rec blogs?

As long as there were destiel fics, there were also dedicated fic reccers. Some stayed with fandom longer, some moved on faster, so, now we have a mix of active blogs and archived blogs. Here’s small collection of destiel fic rec resources that I’ve come across on tumblr. This is by no means a definite list and you are welcome to add your own resources in the notes! Let’s keep fic reccing craft alive and diverse!

Destiel Fic reccing NOW, currently active blogs in 2023

@profoundbondfanfic - an active and prolific destiel fic rec blog with dedicated mod team. Follow them on tumblr and have a rec every day!

@destielficbasket - a blog that reblogs a wide variety of destiel fic rec posts from other Tumblr blogs. All goods in one place!

@deancasfanficrecs - destiel fic recs and fic rec reblogs, lots of posts to chose from!

@destieltaggedfic - blog full of original themed fic rec posts, sorting destiel fics from different angles.

@mixtapebookclub - a tumblr blog for destiel fic podcast. Thematic podcasts and fic rec lists at the same time. There is also a Mixtape Book Club AO3 collection for your convenience.

@cocklesdestielfiction - what it says on the tin! They have destiel, but they also have cockles recs and gif sets. Check them out!

@destieltropecollection - a very unique blog that collects themed self recs from the authors. Check out their neatly organized Master List Collection 2017-2022 or follow them to get the latest Destiel Trope Collection 2023 rec lists every day in May.

The Destiel Fan Survey Favs Collection on AO3 contains 2793 fics and 668 bookmarked fics that were chosen by destiel readers in several fic surveys organized by destiel writer @unforth. Check out this vast collection of reader choice fics!

Destiel Fic reccing THEN

@destielmybeatingheart-deactivated - what to say, this was the main blog for destiel fic rec back in the day. Unfortunately, the mod left fandom and later took down the blog and, with it, all their fic rec posts. See this post to appreciate what we used to have. In coming weeks, @destiel-fic-rec-lists will continue to reblog available destielmybeatingheart’s rec lists with updated links to AO3 when possible. You can find them under #creator: destielmybeatingheart tag.

ask about other spn blogs like ours - this is 10 years old ask and a lot of blogs here are not active anymore or full of dead links, but if they are up, you can still browse them. The list includes some non spn fic rec blogs as well.

@deancasfix - destiel fic rec blog, reviews, rec lists and asks, last update May, 2020.

@deancasfanficnet - a blog to promote destiel fic writers, various posts, last update April, 2020.

@destiel-fics-for-you - destiel fic rec blog, reviews, rec lists and asks, last update June 2016.

Last but not least, don’t forget to browse our destiel fic challenge master post Where Is Destiel Fic In 2022 and occasionally check out @destiel-fic-rec-lists blog for fic rec lists made by other fans. (hint - all reblogs are tagged with their creator’s urls, so you can easily find their other posts on the blog)

Support and cherish your local fanfic reccer. You never know when you’ll need their help to find your next favorite fic!

Destiel fanworks on AO3 - 111,567 (May 8, 2023)

You can find previous From The Inbox posts here.

#from the inbox #about #destiel

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mythaura-blog · 3 months

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Development Update - February 2024

Hi folks, Miyazaki checking in with our development update for the month of February 2024.

It was a tough month for the team: one of us moved, one of us had surgery, and three of us were laid out sick for a while. Everyone's stable and on the mend, though, and with some recovery under our belts we're looking forward to picking up the pace in March!

In spite of everything we've still got some new content to cover. Let's hop in!

Under the cut:

Mythauran Astrological Calendar

Winter Quarter 2024 Art Reveal

Rogue starter Class Companion

Astrological Calendar

The Mythauran calendar is divided into twelve months of roughly equal length. The earliest Beast species--Dragons, Unicorns, and Griffins--have each left their cultural markers on the Mythauran calendar.

Dragons, being the first species to develop a written language (and one that's rather flowery and verbose), were the first to give names to each of the months of the year. These names were meant to conjure images, feelings, and sensations associated with the different times of the year.

Unicorn culture, being nomadic for a significant part of the year as they chase the path of storms on the Southern Plains, used the position of constellations in the sky to guide their paths. These were named after significant cultural figures both fictional and real, who featured prominently in their rich verbal storytelling tradition.

Griffins were the first to master the craft of creating palm stones, which have been used for centuries to manipulate a Beast's secondary Element prior to birth. The Element associated with each stone came from Griffin astronomers, who picked a stone that best symbolized the constellation that spent the most time over their capital city for the month.

March

The month of March is referred to as Chasm's Roar in Dragon culture, representing the peals of thunder ringing through the canyons in the Spine of Ere. This month is also associated with the constellation of the Tempest and the labradorite stone.

Mythauran astrologers say those born under the sign of the Tempest are strong-willed, decisive individuals who believe strongly in their own moral code. Their well-defined sense of self makes them capable leaders, whose confidence inspires those who look to them for guidance.

At their best, Tempests are inspiring, self-assured, and magnanimous. At their worst, they can be belligerent, intolerant of others' beliefs, and arrogant.

Winter 2024 Rewards Reveal

Our Winter 2023 rewards have been completed and are ready for their public debut! Thank you to the Ko-fi Sponsors who voted on the different Glamour and Companion concepts, we appreciate your support and feedback.

Winter 2024 Glamour: Knitted Sweater

Winter 2024 Companion: Snowdrift Furline

Winter 2024 Solid Gold Glamour: Young Dragon

Rogue Class Companion Winner

What's better than two pairs of eyes to help you keep watch? Three pairs of eyes! The Dire Corvus will be the starting Companion for the Rogue Class. Thanks to all who voted in the Ko-fi poll to help decide the winner!

We'll be back in a near update with more information on our final starter Class; with that comes voting for its Companion and starter Gear as well. Keep your eyes peeled!

Mythaura v0.x

While there are no new feature releases this month, Koa and Sark have been hard at work on the player menu, specifically the party screen and the way a player's Beasts are housed. There's also been a lot of work put toward a prototype of the interactive world map--and that's for both the world overall and the starter town of Talon's Rest that players will find themselves in when the game launches!

Thank You!

Thanks for sticking through to the end of the post, we always look forward to sharing our month's work with all of you--thank you for taking the time to read. We'll see you around the Discord!

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cilil · 2 months

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Day 2 ~ Exploration & New Lands

AN: For day 2 of @silmarillionepistolary. There will be a companion piece to this one, showing Fëanor's reaction to Nerdanel's first letter to him.

𓂃🖋 Characters/pairings: Fëanor x Nerdanel 𓂃🖋 Synopsis: For all these years, Fëanor kept Nerdanel's old letters to him. 𓂃🖋 Warnings: / 𓂃🖋 Oneshot (~600 words) | AO3

From a stack of letters found in a box hidden under the bed of Fëanor Finwion, late High King of the Noldor, decades after his departure from the Undying Lands.

Dear Fëanáro,

I hope you rested and recovered well after our last journey and that you don't mind me writing you like this.

When we parted ways near Tirion, I meant to tell you how much I enjoyed your company and that I would love to travel with you again — or meet up and show you all the projects we talked about, as well as seeing your works — though I must admit that I lost courage in the moment.

I am certain that you are in great company at your father's court and I don't want to overstep any boundaries, but if you feel the same way about the time we spent together, please respond to this letter and let me know where and when we could meet again.

Don't feel pressured, though — if I don't hear back from you I will assume you aren't interested and neither mention this nor bother you again.

I hope you recognised the flower signature — I tried my best to avoid getting you in trouble with your father too soon.

Yours, Nerdanel

Dear Fëanáro,

Thank you so much for the flowers! Their message has been noted as well.

My father has begun wondering what all these letters and flowers are about, but worry not, I haven't told him anything yet. He isn't the most inquisitive or nosy sort either, fortunately for us.

Speaking of that, he will be visiting the halls of Lord Aulë shortly and stay for a while. I think this could be a lovely opportunity for you to visit — I would love to show you my workshop and some of my recent projects. Maybe we will even have time to make something together, if you like.

Let me know if you have time, though you can also visit spontaneously, should that be preferable to you — I am in my workshop all day, every day.

I look forward to seeing you again soon!

Yours truly, Nerdanel

Dearest Fëanáro,

Thank you again for all the materials you brought! It truly wasn't necessary, but you know I always appreciate having something new to work with.

I also want to thank you again for visiting; I cannot remember the last time I had this much fun. You are the best crafting partner I found so far, that I can say for certain, and if you enjoyed yourself as well I would love to repeat this sometime soon.

Father tells me that he will be staying with Lord Aulë a while longer — I take it they got caught up in yet another project or are studying the properties of copper or something of that sort. I almost envy them a bit, I must say, but it matters little when I have my own crafting partner around.

Would you like me to bake something for us next time we meet? I will admit that I am not a master baker or anything, it merely is something I enjoy. Let me know what your favourite treats are, and I shall try my best; I promise the result will at least be edible. And if not I will find a replacement.

See you soon (hopefully)! I am looking forward to it! Nerdanel

Thanks for reading! ♡

taglist: @asianbutnotjapanese @elanna-elrondiel @i-did-not-mean-to @saintstars @urwendii

#silmarillionepistolary #nerdanel #fëanor #feanor #feanor x nerdanel #feanel #house of finwe #silmarillion fanfiction #silm fanfic #silmarillion #cílil writes #my writing

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prime-adeptus · 3 months

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WORLD-CLASS EMERGENCY – HESHIKIRI HASEBE X READER

Hasebe can do a lot of things. Keeping calm when you're sick is not one of them.

CONTENT.⠀gender-neutral reader, sickfic, fluff, flirting? not sure tbh but saniwa/reader is a menace. I just forgot to cross-post here wwww

divider by cafekitsune | part of Us, in the Sands of Time ficlet collection!

“Hasebe, it’s just a…” you were cut off by a sudden loud sneeze, not exactly fitting with the dignified and graceful persona you’ve crafted for yourself. “Excuse me. It’s just a cold.”

Hasebe huffed. “Absolutely not! I’ve failed you by allowing you to catch such an illness.”

“It’s not—”

“I shall find Shokudaikiri—we must get you something warm to eat. Would you like some tea first? That, I can prepare.”

“Hasebe—”

“As your faithful servant, I am at your beck and call. This time, I will not fail you—”

“Hasebe!” you snapped, exasperated. As much as you appreciated him fussing over you, it really was not a big deal. Winter was approaching and your body wasn’t quite accustomed to such low temperatures. You’d just forgotten to close the window before you slept last night. With your habit of kicking off the blanket in your sleep, you woke up with a runny nose and a sore throat. You sighed, a fond smile still making its way to your face. “I know you’re worried about me, but really, I’ll be fine. You’re going to get grey hair if you keep stressing like this.”

“But…”

“No buts !” You put your hands on your hips in a mock scolding manner, furrowing your brows for good measure. “Relax! That is an order!”

It was amusing, to say the least, seeing him stand awkwardly—a stark contrast to his usual composure. He looked as though you’d seriously reprimanded him even though it wasn’t your first time lightheartedly nagging him like this. Sure, having a cold was annoying. It distracted you from even the most menial tasks. Not to mention how it was more annoying to only be able to breathe from one nostril. Though you disliked the stuffiness that came with wearing several layers of fabrics, you still (begrudgingly) donned another robe and wrapped a scarf around your neck. It was helping just a bit, but you were wishing summer would come soon.

“Hey, look at me,” you said softly, internally cringing at how nasal you sounded. “I’ll be fine, Hasebe. I promise. So don’t stress too much about me, yeah?” You stepped forward and took his hands in yours, a gesture that made him look to the side as an attempt to hide the blush on his cheeks. The tips of his ears betrayed him. “If you’re still worried, I can pass your duties to someone else. That way, you can stay with me. How does that sound?”

He grumbled something under his breath. You couldn’t help but giggle at how easy it was to fluster him recently. While you weren’t that keen on having him loom over your shoulder every minute, you did enjoy his company. You didn’t need that much medical attention—really, you could just sleep it off—but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like having him close. He's loyal, caring, and always prepared (perhaps too prepared) for any situation.

He cleared his throat. “I will brew us some tea. It won’t take long.”

“Get a book from the library too. Anything is fine.” You grinned. What you were going to say next would fluster him—you just knew it. “I like it when you read to me.”

“I—” he sputtered, his face turning beet red. He cleared his throat again and regained his composure, though the flush on his cheeks still remained. “Of course, Master. I’d be happy to.”

Ah, how adorable he was.

#all #heshikiri hasebe x reader #touken ranbu x reader #hasebe x reader #tkrb x reader #tkrb imagines #@ oomf who requested shokudaikiri fluff i'm working on it rn; should be up this weekend TT sorry ive been all over the place

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wistfulweaverwoman · 11 months

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I love deep diving into the symbolism in The Hunger Games, there's so many layers in the writing, so much thought placed in seemingly unimportant narrative that it boggles the mind if you go searching for meaning. Classic literature is rich with symbolism, especially Christian symbolism. Suzanne Collins is a master at writing and crafted these books to bursting.

So, Peeta Mellark.

His first name, Peeta, a Greek flatbread (pita), but also a nod at Saint Peter. The feast of Saint Peter is also called Lammas Day or Loaf Mass Day, a harvest festival. It’s customary to bring to a Christian church a loaf made from the new crop, which began to be harvested at Lammastide, which falls on August 1, at the halfway point between the summer solstice and the autumn September equinox.

Mellark, a combination of the word malarkey and meadowlark. The meadowlark is a yellow breasted song bird that makes its nests on the ground rather than trees, in small hallows, covering it with grasses or animal hairs. Basically tiny bird caves.

Malarkey: most commonly defined as speech or writing designed to obscure, mislead, or impress; bunkum, BUT also thought to be derived from Greek μαλακός (malakós, “soft; compliant, meek; gentle, mellow, mild, mild-mannered”

Not long ago I came across the Bible quote while researching more deeply into the symbolism of pearls.

“Give not that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and turn again and rend you.”

After a fair amount of analyzing I've come to believe it's actually one of the most important themes in the series. The gist of it means don’t give away what is precious to those that can’t appreciate its worth.

Symbolically Peeta offers himself to Katniss, repeatedly, throughout the series. The words

“neither cast ye pearls before swine lest they trample them under their feet,”

are what first caught my attention, both symbolic and literal, reminding me of the scene when Peeta burns the bread. His mother beats him and then instructs him to feed the bread to the pigs. Instead he passes the loaves along to Katniss.

Katniss describes the bread Peeta gives her

“It was good hearty bread, filled with raisins and nuts.”

But a pearl isn’t bread, is it? Pearls symbolize a lot of different things, but specifically in the Bible it can symbolize anything Christ-like, from Christ himself, to the gospel of the church. Christ said

“I am the living bread that came down from heaven”

Thus a pearl could symbolize bread, in the right context. When I went to research this train of thought further I was shocked to find a whole bunch of recipes instead of a whole bunch of quotes. Christ’s Bread, or Christopsomo. A Greek Orthodox bread made at Christmas. A rich bread filled with raisins and nuts.

I always thought it curious that the author would choose a name with a Greek origin when so many in D12 have the last names that seem British in origin (Everdeen, Hawthorn, Cartwright, Abernathy), and that there must be more to the name. Therefore I believe it’s no coincidence then, that this Greek bread is so similar to the bread that Peeta gifts to Katniss. It’s further evidence that the author purposefully meant to represent Peeta as Christ-like. Peeta offering his body as sacrifice to save Katniss is a theme that repeats over and over in the series. The strongest example of this, in terms of Christ-like symbolism, was his sacrifice of facing Cato in front of the tracker jacker tree to allow Katniss to escape and hide. That tree is a nod to the Hanging Tree, specifically the line:

Where the dead man called out for his love to flee.

“What are you still doing here?” he hisses at me. I stare uncomprehendingly as a trickle of water drips off a sting under his ear. His whole body starts sparkling as if he’s been dipped in dew. “Are you mad?” He’s prodding me with the shaft of the spear now. “Get up! Get up!” I rise, but he’s still pushing at me. What? What is going on? He shoves me away from him hard. “Run!” he screams. “Run!”

The Hanging tree itself is symbolic of both the Tree of Life, and the cross that Christ was crucified on. With TBOSAS we know the origin of the song, but the actual song written by Suzanne Collins was most likely inspired by the song The Hanging Tree (written for the movie of the same name back in 1959) and the song Strange Fruit made popular by Billy Holiday and became a popular civil rights ballad. I am planning a separate post about the song and how Peeta is symbolically the lover in the song.

This death and resurrection of Christ imagery continues with Katniss later bandaging Peeta and bringing him to a cave where he nearly died, and then left the cave healed three days later. There's so much more, but I'll leave that for another post.

But what about the other part of that quote?

“Give not that which is holy unto the dogs, [lest they] turn again and rend you.”

This applies to Katniss, rather than Peeta. Peeta is what's holy, symbolically, as reinforced by the pearl that he gives her in Catching Fire, and that represents him symbolically in Mockingjay. He was literally rended by dogs at the cornucopia in The hunger Games, but she doesn't cast him aside till the end of the book.

“Give not that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and turn again and rend you.”

There is metaphorical meaning in the entire quote as well as this theme continues in both Catching Fire and Mockingjay. Peeta offers himself to Katniss and she "casts" him aside. She realizes this towards the end of Mockingjay.

Seeing it in his hands, it’s like Finnick’s echoing what Haymitch just said, that I’ve cast off Peeta.

She finally realizes his true value, even after he's been hijacked, and refuses to allow him to be killed, and instead of casting him away she does her best to keep him.

It’s a long shot, it’s suicide maybe, but I do the only thing I can think of. I lean in and kiss Peeta full on the mouth. His whole body starts shuddering, but I keep my lips pressed to his until I have to come up for air. My hands slide up his wrists to clasp his. “Don’t let him take you from me.” Peeta’s panting hard as he fights the nightmares raging in his head. “No. I don’t want to . . .” I clench his hands to the point of pain. “Stay with me.” His pupils contract to pinpoints, dilate again rapidly, and then return to something resembling normalcy. “Always,” he murmurs.

This is not to say that she never values him or cares for him before the end of Mockingjay, there is plenty of evidence to suggest she fully loved him by the end of The Hunger Games, only that she did not learn the lesson to "cast not what is holy" till then.

I wrap my arms around his neck, feel his arms hesitate before they embrace me. Not as steady as they once were, but still warm and strong. A thousand moments surge through me. All the times these arms were my only refuge from the world. Perhaps not fully appreciated then, but so sweet in my memory, and now gone forever.

This theme is also apparent in the narrative in that the Rebellion abandoned Peeta, representing both which is holy and the pearl, to the Capitol. The Capitol did not value his worth, nor see him as a treasure. They tortured and hijacked him "trample them under their feet" , and used him to "rend" the Rebellion by programing him to kill Katniss, the symbol of the Rebellion.

#wistfulweaverwoman #symbolism in the hunger games #peeta mellark and bread

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scart-t · 1 year

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Threads of Deception: Unraveling the Honey Traps

Pairings: Alhaitham, Cyno, Kaveh, and Tighnari x reader (Seperatly)

Y/n, a master of deception, takes on the dangerous task of honey trapping four influential figures in Teyvat: Alhaitham, Cyno, Kaveh, and Tighnari.

With their extraordinary charisma and alluring charm, Y/n meticulously plans their interactions with each target, aiming to extract valuable information or gain leverage for their own purposes.

Y/n adopts different personas and disguises to entice and manipulate their targets, using their communication disorder to their advantage by appearing vulnerable and innocent

ALHAITHAM

In their mission to honey trap Alhaitham, Y/n meticulously crafts a plan that revolves around portraying themselves as a vulnerable and helpless individual in need of assistance. They carefully study Alhaitham's preferences, interests, and weaknesses, using that knowledge to their advantage.

Y/n orchestrates a chance encounter with Alhaitham, strategically positioning themselves in a situation where they appear distressed or in danger. With a well-rehearsed display of panic and fear, Y/n catches Alhaitham's attention, prompting him to step in and offer assistance.

Under the guise of gratitude and admiration, Y/n gradually builds trust with Alhaitham. They cleverly leverage their communication disorder, making it seem like they struggle to express their gratitude verbally. This draws Alhaitham's sympathy and creates a sense of protectiveness within him.

Y/n skillfully deepens their bond with Alhaitham, sharing seemingly harmless personal stories and gradually escalating to discussing political matters. They listen intently, nodding along, and using their non-verbal cues to convey understanding and agreement.

With each encounter, Y/n strategically drops hints and asks innocent questions that nudge Alhaitham into revealing confidential political secrets. They play the role of an attentive listener, coaxing Alhaitham to open up, knowing that he underestimates the potential threat posed by someone who appears so vulnerable.

Y/n's ability to extract information is a delicate dance, always balancing between appearing helpless and maintaining the facade of an admirer. They carefully choose their words, ensuring they don't arouse suspicion or give away their true intentions.

As their interactions progress, Y/n uncovers hidden agendas, corruption, and plans that Alhaitham would never disclose to others. They meticulously document the information, building a case that could potentially bring Alhaitham's schemes to light.

However, beneath their deceptive facade, Y/n grapples with conflicting emotions. They witness Alhaitham's genuine care and concern for them, forming a connection that blurs the lines between their mission and personal feelings. It becomes a constant battle between duty and their own vulnerability.

The honey trapping of Alhaitham serves as a compelling exploration of power dynamics, trust, and manipulation. Y/n's ability to exploit Alhaitham's weaknesses while grappling with their own moral compass adds complexity to the story, leaving readers questioning the boundaries of deceit and the consequences it carries for both the deceiver and the deceived.

CYNO

With Cyno, Y/n takes on the guise of an aspiring adventurer seeking guidance and mentorship. They strategically position themselves in Cyno's path, impressing him with their combat skills and determination. Y/n carefully crafts an image of an inexperienced yet eager individual, eager to learn from someone as renowned as Cyno.

Y/n starts by engaging in casual conversations with Cyno, expressing their admiration for his legendary exploits and the treasures he guards. They appeal to his ego, making him feel respected and appreciated. Gradually, Y/n begins to win Cyno's admiration and trust by showcasing their own unique abilities and their dedication to becoming a formidable adventurer.

As their bond strengthens, Y/n becomes a constant presence in Cyno's life, always seeking his guidance and wisdom. They accompany him on quests and expeditions, offering unwavering support while covertly extracting information about the hidden treasures and ancient artifacts Cyno is entrusted with safeguarding.

Y/n listens attentively as Cyno recounts tales of his past adventures, skillfully steering the conversation towards the specifics of the treasures he guards. They show genuine fascination and curiosity, using their non-verbal cues to express their awe and intrigue, subtly encouraging Cyno to disclose more details.

By establishing themselves as a trustworthy confidant, Y/n gains access to Cyno's vulnerabilities and insecurities. They exploit these moments of emotional connection, using their communication disorder to their advantage. Y/n's occasional struggle to express their thoughts and emotions further endears them to Cyno, as he sees their vulnerability as a reflection of his own.

Through their interactions, Y/n manages to gather crucial information about the locations, weaknesses, and defenses of the hidden treasures and artifacts. They meticulously document this information, knowing that it holds great value for those seeking power or influence in Teyvat.

While successfully extracting the desired information, Y/n finds themselves caught in a web of conflicting emotions. Cyno's genuine mentorship and their shared moments of camaraderie blur the lines between manipulation and genuine connection. Y/n grapples with guilt, knowing that they are deceiving someone they have grown to respect and admire.

The honey trapping of Cyno becomes a thrilling exploration of trust, mentorship, and the sacrifices one must make in the pursuit of their objectives. Y/n's ability to gain Cyno's admiration while extracting vital information creates a captivating narrative that challenges the reader to question the ethical implications of their actions and the true cost of deception.

KAVEH

Y/n, recognizing Kaveh's involvement in Teyvat's underworld and his shrewd business acumen, decides to approach him as a potential business partner. They meticulously research Kaveh's interests, connections, and illicit activities, aiming to gain leverage and expose his hidden dealings.

Y/n strategically positions themselves in situations where they come into contact with Kaveh, showcasing their own business expertise and demonstrating their value as a potential ally. They employ their keen observational skills to identify Kaveh's vulnerabilities and areas where he may need assistance or connections.

With charm and charisma, Y/n engages Kaveh in conversations about mutual business interests. They impress him with their cunning negotiation skills and ability to navigate the complex world of Teyvat's black market. Y/n strategically highlights their own knowledge and resources, subtly suggesting that they possess insider information that could benefit Kaveh's operations.

As their relationship deepens, Y/n gains Kaveh's trust, positioning themselves as a confidant who understands the intricacies of the underworld. They exploit their communication disorder to appear innocent and unassuming, luring Kaveh into a false sense of security.

Y/n employs their exceptional listening skills, attentively absorbing information about Kaveh's illicit dealings, hidden contacts, and potential rivals. They make Kaveh feel heard and understood, creating a sense of loyalty and dependence on their partnership.

Gradually, Y/n begins to extract details about Kaveh's operations, subtly steering conversations towards sensitive topics. They skillfully employ persuasion techniques, leveraging their understanding of Kaveh's desires and fears to entice him into revealing key information about his illicit activities.

Y/n captures every piece of information, documenting Kaveh's connections, secret transactions, and any potential weaknesses they can exploit in the future. They understand the value of this knowledge, not only for their own purposes but also for the potential impact it can have on Teyvat's underworld.

Yet, as Y/n delves deeper into their role as a confidant to Kaveh, they find themselves conflicted. Their growing familiarity and genuine moments of connection with Kaveh blur the lines between manipulation and friendship. Y/n grapples with the weight of their actions, torn between their mission and the genuine emotions that develop amidst the deception.

The honey trapping of Kaveh delves into the dark underbelly of Teyvat, exploring themes of power, loyalty, and the price one must pay for uncovering the truth. Y/n's ability to seduce Kaveh with their negotiation skills while extracting vital information raises questions about the boundaries of morality and the consequences of delving into the world of crime and deceit.

TIGHNARI

Recognizing Tighnari's position as a military strategist and leader, Y/n approaches them as a compassionate and understanding confidant. They carefully observe Tighnari's behavior, studying their patterns and vulnerabilities to establish a bond based on emotional support and trust.

Y/n strategically positions themselves in situations where they can offer a listening ear to Tighnari. They create opportunities for intimate conversations, showing genuine interest in Tighnari's concerns, fears, and frustrations. Through their empathetic nature and understanding demeanor, Y/n becomes a trusted source of solace for Tighnari.

As Tighnari confides in Y/n, sharing the pressures and challenges they face in their military role, Y/n skillfully navigates the conversations towards critical military strategies and weaknesses. They use their keen observation skills to identify gaps in Tighnari's defenses, unspoken vulnerabilities, and potential blind spots.

Through active listening and emotional support, Y/n gains Tighnari's trust and fosters a sense of camaraderie. They create an environment where Tighnari feels comfortable discussing sensitive military matters, knowing that Y/n genuinely cares and understands their struggles.

With each interaction, Y/n carefully steers conversations towards strategic discussions, extracting valuable information about Tighnari's plans, troop deployments, and potential weaknesses in their military operations. They ask insightful questions, employing their communication disorder to appear more vulnerable and harmless, putting Tighnari at ease.

Y/n's ability to provide emotional support and empathetic understanding becomes a crucial bargaining chip. In exchange for their continued support and listening ear, Tighnari unwittingly reveals critical military secrets and provides Y/n with invaluable knowledge about their strategic thinking and vulnerabilities.

As Y/n acquires this sensitive information, they meticulously document Tighnari's military strategies and weaknesses. They understand the potential impact this knowledge can have on Teyvat's balance of power, making them a formidable force in shaping the outcomes of future conflicts.

However, as Y/n's bond with Tighnari strengthens, they find themselves torn between their mission and the genuine connection they have developed. They witness Tighnari's burdens and the weight of their responsibilities, sparking conflicting emotions within Y/n.

The honey trapping of Tighnari explores the complex interplay between trust, vulnerability, and the pursuit of strategic advantage. Y/n's ability to extract critical military information while providing emotional support raises thought-provoking questions about the ethical boundaries of manipulation and the true cost of exploiting someone's vulnerabilities for personal gain.

#genshin Impact #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin alhaitham #genshin cyno #genshin tighnari #genshin kaveh #alhaitham x reader #cyno x reader #tighnari x reader #kaveh x y/n

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artheresy · 6 months

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Yingxing Appreciation 🎉🎉

hi, hello, it's Yingxing appreciation time and I'm dragging you into it bc he is my baby and I need more ppl to talk about him

Y'know I see a lot of people like in awe and hyping up DF and just giving him tons of appreciation while analyzing him specifically as an individual which is all so so valid, DF is amazing and very intriguing as a character and I love him sm, but I sadly don't see the same for Yingxing despite him I think also being so interesting. I also see him more so dismissed in the "literally God and some guy" kind of fashion sometimes

So I'm here to rant just a little bit about Yingxing, why I love him, why he's epic and why he ruins my day every single time I think about him! This is for any of my fellow Yingxing lovers who are also starved of any content of him

Firstly, this man is a genuine genius, like lest we forget this is from Baiheng's travelogue in which she met a young Yingxing who was still a child by this point.

He was a young boy but had already become a craftsman, a sign of his ability to learn exceedingly quick under Huaiyans tutelage. And his ability to work and progress incredible fast continues into his time as a young man on the Luofu.

We know he arrived probably somewhere around 18-21 (in my personal estimate) and by the time he saw Jingliu again (which itself was likely early into his stay on the Luofu given HCQ ages and timing), he had already impressed the Master Craftsmen of the Luofu's Artisanship Commission and earned himself a title.

There are also multiple things in game that emphasize his achievements and creations he crafted, some offhandedly mentioned in a readable or item while others are emphasized with importance.

Casually mentioned in the Discarded Ingenium Parts is his feat in the Great Trial of the Furnace (perhaps that trial is for gaining the furnace master title? Once again signifying an earlier achievement in his legacy) where it took him only a day and night to create a whole mechanical lion that moved and looked just like a real live lion from a bunch of defective parts and waste.

More recently in 1.5, they released a readable, the Ten-Lords Criminal Directory, which mentions an imprisonment method designed by Yingxing that keeps “Mirage” in a perpetual state trapped within a hallucination of their own making. Utilizing it’s own powers in order to keep it imprisoned. Something that with proper maintenance seems to have lasted for around 700 years so far.

And of course, how can we forget his most famous creations

The beautifully crafted weapons of the High Cloud Quintet, from Jingliu’s incredibly heavy sword remarked as being as heavy as three thousand catties, to Dan Feng’s Cloud Piercer with the ability to even cut through dragon scales, and the Devastator Glaive as well as Baiheng’s recurve bow. Each impressive in their own ways and seemingly crafted pretty early as well into his time on the Luofu with the HCQ given the distinction of Jing Yuan who (even if he likely was more a teen than a boy) still wasn’t an exact adult yet. So once again, let me emphasize this man’s skill here. With how many things he managed to do so so early into his time on the Luofu. A genius craftsman who deserved all of the praise he had garnered with his works.

Additionally, I know they keep harping about “ugh arrogant craftsman, ugh he’s so full of himself” but every single time we’ve seen his personality, he just seems like a genuine joy to be around. Bright, charismatic, sure he’s cocky but he also gives the impression of being incredibly fun and a bit silly if you ask me.

His behavior as mirrored by the mirage echo in Scalegorge Waterscape is distinctly playful even in what might be a more tense situation, lightly bantering with Dan Feng and even chuckling in certain languages.

In Jingliu’s character stories, it even furthers this bright, playful attitude he gives off with his distinct cheekiness shining through especially with that “toothy grin” of his. And if you listen to Jingliu’s (at least her English) voice lines during Clouds Leave No Trace when she speaks about Yingxing before getting into his transformation, there is a distinct fondness or amusement in her voice as she speaks of him especially that cocky nature of his despite her distaste for it at first.

While Baiheng is hailed as this kind figure in the High Cloud Quintet, perhaps their sun even casting light upon them, it doesn’t seem too far off to say Yingxing was a shining star among them in his own right. His easy going nature with them bringing about a bubbly playfulness similar to Baiheng given their closeness from when he was young. I could go into way more especially in regards to the casualness at which Yingxing seems to speak and treat others allowing for a more equal formation of relationships especially with Dan Feng but I’m saving that for another rant.

And all of this about him especially how expressive he seems at certain points he’s been mentioned, really just makes me so incredibly sad when thinking about Blade now. How severely separated he is from this identity. A division that exists from not only his death but from the way his mental state has been severely warped from his time with Jingliu and being affected afterwards by the mara.

The sheer dehumanization and lack of a personal identity in place of seeing himself as a solely a weapon when put next to Yingxing, with such a clear bold individual identity, really makes the transformation of one into the other all the more jarring and tragic. Especially with the emphasis on how Yingxing hated the abominations of Abundance only to become one himself, something that is still implied to have not been by his own hand. Blade is an immensely tragic character, but that tragedy only holds weight because of the life and identity Yingxing had. It is only with Yingxing’s light which shined despite the circumstances of his life that his descent into darkness hits harder, and it makes me so sad that I haven’t found many others talking or expanding upon this despite my searches because he really is such a well written character with so many details in his story that are both interesting and utterly heartbreaking.

And additionally, I want to say that I think there is a lost potential in examining the Xianzhou through Yingxing. Specifically in the way he is treated as a short life species. We know how the relationship between the Vidyadhara and the Natives, especially as it’s changed after Dan Feng, but there is a very interesting relationship to be explored between the Xianzhou and the Short Life Species the end up there, especially through Yingxing’s relationship to the different Artisans guilds whether on the Luofu or the Zhuming.

In the end, it becomes another sad element to Yingxing’s story. Yingxing managed to change his attitude regarding how the Zhuming masters treated him and even grew more of a confidence, but even in the Luofu's Artisanship Commission, he can never truly get as far as he deserves. Just as Jingliu says

Even with his work impressing the master craftsmen of the Luofu, even after more than showing his skill and earning the title of Furnace Master for that skill, he still would be denied higher positions and could only prove his true worth by the High Cloud Quintet.

And just let me say it again, him being a short life species allows for such an interesting examination of the world and people around him based upon that. While we don't know exactly how they met, we do know that Yingxing was Huaiyan's personal disciple and the only one he mentions of the celestial masters to treat him with respect and believe in his capabilities despite knowing he's a short life species. Through his treatment of Yingxing, we learn quite a bit about him. Through Baiheng's treatment of him as well, we learn a lot about her, more than anywhere else.

He's just UGH I need more exploration from Yingxing's perspective, the lack of it feels as if I'm being starved. He's so interesting, he's so fun, he's incredibly tragic, and he makes me cry every single time he crosses my mind. Please do yourselves a favor and think more about his character so you'll end up as sad about him as me. Or don't maybe. I dunno. All I know for sure is that you absolutely need to read Views of the Universe From a Starskiff: The Zhuming if you haven't. Anyways bye, thanks for listening to this rant, I gotta go cry over him.

Peep the tags also for a rant about my own characterization of YX if you wish to witness my insanity

#Let me rant about my own personal characterization of Yingxing based on this and its OVER #It's OVER #Firsy off We need to acknowledge before we get into anything that YX is severely traumatized #Before becoming a teen (we don't know exactly how long he was at the Zhuming before he met BH so he could have been p young)#He had already lost his entirely family in an incredibly brutal fashion to the Borisin #His home planet was conquered destroyed and turned into a weapons nursery for the Borisin #And he ended up somehow on the Zhuming (it's my hc that Huaiyan himself found him but we don't know the canon details)#And on top of that seemingly only Huaiyan his master was kind to him as the rest of the celestial masters on Zhuming degraded him for being #A shortlife species to the point he A CHILD tells BH he doesn't know if he'll live to see his parents avenged #So yeah he's gone through some shit #And we know his arrogance begins after Baiheng says kind words to him but ngl I don't think he switched up so fast from a few kind gestures #I think that arrogance of his begins as a coping method inspired by her especially given the exaggerated nature of it as jingliu describes #When he was a child #Kind of a fake it til you make it #And by the time he ends up on the Luofu I think it's half genuine confident half fake it til you make it #Specifically in that he does really see the people around him as equals no matter their status or species including someone like HE IL #And in that he's probably pretty judgemental all things considered #But I think the more exaggerated parts especially his outward declarations are played up a bit by him to give off a certain facade or image #In order to garner respect when paired with his actual genuine skill and talent #That's just a reduced summary of my characterization of him tho with his relationship to his confidence I have more to say but #ALSO YINGXING WITH SURVIVORS GUILT #WHERE IS MY YX WITH SURVIVORS GUILT CONTENT *bangs my fist against the floor*#That 100% plays into my personal characterization of his relationship with his confidence #Also I view YX as being AuDHD for so many reasons but esp with what we know in canon of his obsession with crafting and his #Overworking himself tendencies regarding it #Yingxing #Hsr blade #Hsr #Honkai star rail #Don't let me mention how this affects his relationships I'll be even more annoying than I already am

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