#. foul legacy tartaglia

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

SAGAU where the Creator is slain once, accused of being an imposter, and reborn as... a Melusine.

there's screaming and pain, the sensation of a thin blade digging into your chest- then nothing. nothing but the soft melody of running water. tentatively you open your eyes are met with dancing colors and shapes, little shell houses and baubles making a small, cozy village. your hands have become mittens, your skin swirling with pretty patterns, a pair of antennae sprouting from your head, and where there were previously cuts dripping with blood have turned to markings that shimmer slightly in the light. another Melusine approaches you and asks if you're lost, and when you merely shrug she introduces herself as Cosanzeana and shows you her slowly growing flower garden.

it's nice here, in Merusea Village. unlike the rest of Teyvat, the Melusine don't know nor care much about any sort of Creator myths- they came from Elynas, after all- so they happily regard you as a sibling who simply got lost on the way. finally you're free from the world above, everyone who chases and tries to harm you, spending your days collecting components to trade and swimming beneath the waves. Mamere in particular becomes a close friend, both of you regarded as a little strange but still beloved by all your siblings. she shows you her artwork and you help her collect paint, and in the coldest nights when you're swarmed by bad dreams, you tell her of your previous life as she swears to keep it a secret.

the only time you venture out into the far caverns alone is when you meet a familiar face- Childe's Foul Legacy form. you always loved the transformation, when Teyvat was just a game on your computer, but now you hastily hop a few steps back. the others treated you as a fraud, tearing at your skin until you gave in and died- he would be exactly the same. but Foul Legacy just blinks, slowly crouching to your height and staring into your eyes, speckled with tiny stars. he trills quietly in awe, then lowers his head into a bow in presence of the true Creator.

the other Melusine cluster around you when you bring him back to Merusea, curiously poking at his armor and glittery wings. you all see him as beautiful, and he is beautiful! Legacy stays with you in the village, accepted with open arms, much like Seymour stayed with Mamere for a time, and it becomes common to see a slightly sparkly Melusine running around with an Abyssal beast at their heels. he swims with you, navigating through the Primordial Sea, and shields you from any outsiders that happen to appear, the ones who dared to harm his Creator so horribly.

you, a Melusine, and Foul Legacy, your protector and best friend.

[tartar-sous]

"tasukete svarog-! wait a minute.." (2023)

[purrwinkleazure]

The Fowl Legacy

[c6jpg]

CHILDE in Chapter IV Act V: Masquerade of the Guilty

bonus:

[clementine-thedestroyer]

Kinktober day 13/14: Monsterfucking + blood - Childe/Foul Legacy Transformation x reader

Warnings/tags: Monsterfucking, his dick is like 14 inches, fem!reader. Once Childe transforms, Foul Legacy gets it/its pronouns. Blood is mentioned, unrealistic sex, Foul Legacy is kind of horror movieified. Slight dub con. It sticks its tongue down your throat. You bleed from multiple things. Mentions of breeding too.

Reader really wants Childe to fuck her in his Foul Legacy transformation.

The first time you asked Childe to fuck you in his foul legacy form, he said no.

Immediately shut you down. Outright refused. Wouldn’t even let you start up with a word of argument- he was so violently opposed to the idea- convinced there was no way you could take that version of him, in any way.

But you were, if anything, stubborn. You were sure you could handle it! You knew you could! And you showed Childe that every opportunity you got- stretching yourself wider and wider till you could nearly take your whole hand. A proud grin on your face as you straddled him- giving him the perfect view to see exactly how much you could take.

You were just so determined to prove to Childe that you could handle it- and no matter how many times he told you “No. It would destroy you.” you persisted. Eventually wearing down his walls enough to just get him to have an open conversation about the topic.

You were curled up against Childe’s side, looking up at him as he stuttered in exasperation and desperately tried to explain to you just how bad of an idea this was. “It’ll break you- it'll rip you apart!”

“No. It won’t. I showed you I could take it, so you gotta at least come up with a new excuse.” You responded, huffing.

“It’s still a bad idea! Being exposed to that much abyssal energy is dangerous! It’s no-“ You cut him off, a bit of pride rising in your chest as you revel in having anticipated this argument beforehand. “I talked to Dottore. He said it’s fine.”

Childe frowns, choosing to set the whole bringing-a-mad-man-into-your-sexlife thing aside for later, and instead focusing on the current subject. “I don’t believe him, he’s not exactly trustworthy.”

“He’s competent.”

“He’s a psychopath.”

“But a competent one.”

Childe sighs, angling your head and looking into your eyes as he speaks in a more serious tone. “You don’t understand. When I’m like that- Foul Legacy isn’t me. I’m not able to control myself- it’s all instincts, there’s no self control, there’s no thinking, only doing. It’s-it’s like I’m an animal. And I don’t want you to see me like that and be… scared of me.”

You, very calmly and methodically, explain to him: That. Is. Exactly. What. You. Want.

After that night, it still takes another week's worth of convincing before you get him to agree, and then another week of prep before the big day. And when it finally comes, you can’t help but feel a twinge of regret over not listening to Childe’s warnings. Because oh holy shit. That’s a lot bigger than you had been expecting-

You had seen Foul Legacy before, of course, but only from far away. Up close was a whole new thing. It was 10 feet. Easily. Childe Foul Legacy absolutely towered over you, you couldn’t hide how you trembled and practically cowered underneath its watch. Dressed intricately in an array of dark purples and reds, purple sparks crackled and fizzled in the air surrounding it. The only hint of Childe remaining was the messy nest of ginger hair that stuck out from behind Foul Legacy’s mask (face? You couldn’t tell).

You understood what Childe meant. This wasn’t him, this was Foul Legacy.

“Is this what you wanted?”

You flinch as you hear Foul Legacy speak, forcing your head into a shaky nod. Its voice is deep, scratchy, and barely recognizable as Childe’s. Despite the words clearly ringing through the room, there’s no movement from its mask.

“Good.”

You could’ve sworn Foul Legacy teleported to infront of you. One moment it was across the room, the next, its black claws found your hips, effortlessly lifting you up and tossing you onto the mattress.

You landed with a soft “thump”, getting no to time to catch your breath before Foul Legacy’s hands are already back on you. Its claws dig into your hips- tiny rivulets of blood flowing from where the razor sharp points pierces your skin- and it lifts.

A startled yelp comes out of your throat as your lower body is lifted up and Foul Legacy moves its head between your legs. You hardly get a chance to scream in horror as its mouth opens- a long, thick, dark purple tongue that immediately dragged roughly over your clit.

You gasped, hands flying to cover your mouth as Foul Legacy ground its tongue against your clit. You rut your hips upwards, whimpering at the way its claws dug deeper into the fat of your hips in warning.

“Childe- Childe please!” You babbled, crying and grabbing at the sheets as you were forced to take the near painful grind of Foul Legacy’s tongue against your clit. It was too much, but it wasn’t enough, and the more Foul Legacy went on, the harder you sobbed, eventually, a painful orgasm crashing into you like a freight train.

Foul Legacy’s tongue continued to rub against you- working you through your orgasm till you were once again squirming in overstimulation.

You didn’t get any time to recover before you were once again dropped down onto the mattress- hazily worrying about the blood ruining the sheets before you froze.

There was no way. There was no way that was going to fit inside of you. It was at least 14 inches, for Christ's sake. And why the hell was it thicker than your upper arm?

You hastily pushed yourself up, opening your mouth to call out Childe’s name- only to have your ankles grabbed and shoved up past your head- your body now completely bent in half.

You cried out and squeezed your eyes shut, shaking as you felt that same long tongue flicker across were Foul Legacy’s bloody claws were holding your ankles- shivering as you felt it lick the blood up- eventually moving to the punctures on your hips and lapping up the blood that ran down your skin.

By the time you cracked your eye open, Foul Legacy had finished with the blood- bitting, licking, and sucking across your thighs as it made its way closer and closer to your still sensitive pussy.

You bucked your hips away, squirming and begging as you tried to get through to Childe.

“No no no no- Childe! I’m too sensitive! You were too rough! Don’t use your tongue again!!”

Foul legacy looked up at you, an angry growl and tight ting of the claws at your wrists was all you needed to be frightened back into compliance.

You bit your cheek and looked away, a whiny whimper escaping from your throat as the head of Foul Legacy’s monstrous cock rubbed against your sore clit.

Well- at least it listened to you-

Although you weren’t sure you were grateful once it started pushing in. No matter how wet you had been, it would’ve hurt either way.

You couldn’t help it, you screamed. loud and pained until Foul Legacy shoved its tongue down your open mouth, muffling your screams as the large muscle wiggled its way past the muscles at the back of your throat, leaving you sobbing and gagging around it as the painful stretch of its cock only grew worse.

All the while, you were staring up. Not at your boyfriend, but at whatever he had become.

Tears flowed freely from your eyes as you struggled to breath around the tongue intent on making its way down your throat. The lack of oxygen at least partially distracted you from the burning stretch of your hole.

Foul Legacy didn’t remove its tongue from your mouth until you were too lost in pleasure to care about the pain. You couldn’t help but scream- the way Foul Legacy’s cock bullied it’s way inside of you- going deeper and deeper with each thrust, till it could bottom out easily with each thrust-

You were absolutely leaking around its cock, babbling and clenching as each of Foul Legacy’s thrusts sent the bed rocking and you bouncing.

You were too far gone to even care when you looked down- seeing Foul Legacy’s cock covered in blood as It roughly thrusted in and out- growling things about breeding you, filling you up, telling you that you’d make such a strong mother for its offspring.

Even when you came, Foul legacy didn’t stop, fucking you through not just that orgasm- but another one after it. By the time Foul Legacy finally did finish, you were hardly more than a fucked out mess beneath it. It’s hips stuttering and grinding into you as it filled you with waves and waves of cum- till it spilled out from your pussy, even while you were still stretched out on its cock.

Even then, Foul Legacy didn’t pull out, it kept you on its cock, curling its massive body around you protectively as you fell asleep almost immediately.

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

[121231212i]

Genshin Impact | Foul Legacy

[tartaeya]

this art is doing really well on twt for some reason so you can have it too

more nonsense inspired by my fic

[naiart-i]

That's game over for you |¦ 💧

[blood-orange-juice]

It feels so weird having a centrist stance (if it can be called so) in most Childe debates. People want him to be just one thing so badly.

I think whatever dichotomy you can come up with he's probably both.

He's a sweet boy and also an abyssal horror, neither part is a mask.

He obviously has cPTSD but also a lot of his behaviours that look like trauma-induced responses are just him, real him. To deal with trauma you have to dig deep enough to find the real you and, well, that's what he found.

He's obviously Abyss-tainted but it's for his goals and seems voluntary and he's very much in control of himself, so can you really say it's not him?

He does need help and acceptance but no way it will make him "normal".

Remember that domain inside Canotila's book? A dog who was a dog and a rifthound at the same time. I think he's that.

[floofeh-purpi]

Creator x Destroyer. ♡

Sagau! Foul Legacy x Creator! Gn! Reader

『Beloved fluffball/s mentioned below! 💜』

@mc-cos-charm (Thank you for supporting my sagau fatui series Ilysm fluffball :3) @justmare @keirennyx @catratnap @fantasticarcadefan

A/n: My poetic side came out this night.

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆

• The world thrummed with discord, a harsh dissonance echoing in the very fabric of Teyvat. As the creator, you felt it keenly - a tremor, a crack in your creation.

• Locating the source, you found yourself hovering above a desolate landscape ravaged by a crimson storm. In the swirling chaos, a figure fought with a primal ferocity.

• It was Childe, or rather, Foul Legacy.

• Foul Legacy didn't possess Childe's usual mocking grin. Its face was a mask of cold fury, its movements mechanical, fueled by a raw, destructive power.

• Yet, you saw a flicker, a fleeting moment where the crimson energy seemed to dim, revealing a sliver of blue beneath. Briefly, the eyes locked with yours, a desperate plea flashing within their depths.

• Confused, you reached out, calming the storm with a thought. The world stilled, the crimson fading to reveal a kneeling Foul Legacy, its monstrous form trembling.

• You couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy. Though destructive, it wasn't inherently evil. It was a part of Childe, warped by his past and the Abyss.

• "Why did you cause such destruction?" your voice resonated in the empty space.

• Foul Leagacy didn't speak, its roars and growls replaced by a chilling silence. You knelt before it, offering a hand.

• "Don't be afraid," you said gently, sensing the turmoil within. The monstrous being hesitated, then hesitantly reached out, a single claw brushing your outstretched palm.

• It was a small touch, but the world seemed to sigh in relief. You felt a surge of warmth, a strange connection to this being.

• It was a connection unlike any you'd experienced with your creations before, almost…affectionate? You dismissed it as your own projection, a desire to understand this part of Childe.

• "You're strong," you admitted, "but strength isn't everything. Perhaps... you could find another way to use your power."

• Foul Legacy seemed to ponder this, then slowly withdrew its hand. It bowed its head, a gesture that surprised you.

• Before you could press further, a surge of energy pulled you back. You reappeared in your sanctum, the echoes of Teyvat's unease a dull thrum in your mind.

• Meanwhile, Childe, stripped of Foul Legacy's power, lay unconscious in his Snezhnayan quarters. When he awoke, a strange feeling lingered - an echo of warmth, a memory of an oh-so tender touch.

• He dismissed it as a fever dream, yet couldn't shake the feeling that he'd interacted with you, the creator. His creator, in some form. A blush crept onto his face, a sensation entirely new and unnerving.

• Oblivious to Childe's internal turmoil, you continued to observe Teyvat, your gaze lingering on Snezhnaya for a moment longer. The strange connection to Foul Legacy puzzled you, but it also sparked a newfound curiosity about Childe himself.

• Perhaps, you mused, there was more to him than just his destructive tendencies.

• Little did you know, your gentle touch had awakened a spark within the Harbinger, a devotion that transcended his human form. As Foul Legacy, Childe would continue to fight, but now, a new purpose bloomed - to be worthy of your touch, to earn a place in the world you created.

♡

Its my 1st time writing smth oike this, have some mercy please—

【Part 2.】

Published: July 21, 2024. 7:02pm.

[niwa0]

Tartaglia - Foul Legacy

----------

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[that-foul-legacy-lover]

SAGAU brainrot where after being hunted for being an "imposter" in Fontaine you escape to the sea, desperate for somewhere safe- or somewhere to die peacefully, the blood from your wounds seeping into the water and staining it red, then an odd glittering gold. it's blissfully silent under the waves, sea creatures flocking around and following you through the depths as you sink deeper and deeper, eyes finally having a chance to close after days of staying awake out of terror. there's a small, exhausted smile on your face, weak and dizzy from the blood loss but finally not being pursued, left alone to pass peacefully from this world you used to love so much.

but you don't die- instead you're awoken by a mournful echoing sound, the water around you sparkling and peculiar. you move your hand and the water moves with it, swirling into flowing designs like silk, cushioning your open wounds and soothing the sting. the echoing sound calls again, closer this time, and when you turn you meet the crystalline eye of a familiar face- Foul Legacy, adorned with fins and patches of scales from the influence of the Primordial Sea.

Legacy's eye widens at the site of you, his song changing from saddened to ecstatic, then fading as he takes in your wounds, just barely scabbed over and shining with gold. he whines, quickly swimming a circle around you and wrapping his tail around your legs- who dared to do this to you, the Creator? who dared lay a hand on your skin, tearing it so? he knows it's you, his Abyssal instincts soothed and calm in your divine presence, and Foul Legacy lets out a low growl at the thought of someone hurting you. but it quickly turns to a whimper when you flinch away, his claws hovering over your shoulders as he croons gently- you need rest and time to recover, and he gently wraps his arms around you as your eyes close, nudging his horned head against your cheek with a sweet purr, the first kindness you've experienced in Teyvat.

together you sink further into the Primordial Sea, away from the ignorance and hatred of the surface above, and Teyvat falls silent once more.

[watatsumiis]

Reader's Stuffed Toy

Just a silly little set of drabbles about different characters finding out that the reader has a plushie in their likeness :D

Gender neutral reader, platonic fluff, very slight angst in Foul Legacy's part

Characters: Ayato, Foul Legacy, Gorou, Tighnari, Rex Lapis (yes the dragon), Xiao

Ayato is insufferably smug about it from the moment he realises. He’ll waste no time in teasing you about it and commenting on the plush, though there’s a dark flicker of something in his eyes whenever he catches you contently snuggled up to it, or tucking it carefully into your bag for a long trip. It may take some reassurance that no, this little bundle of fluff isn’t as good as the real thing, until he warms to the idea, and eventually you may find little packages laid out addressed only to “The Junior Yashiro Commissioner.” that, when opened, reveal itty bitty clothes, hand-sewn by Thoma with the utmost care to match Ayato’s own day-to-day outfits. He also may incorporate the toy into his own routine, occasionally stealing it from you so that it can ‘complete its paperwork for the day’. He denies being in any way attached to the toy, but it’s hard to take his claims seriously when he’s got it sitting on his desk in a little chair belonging to Ayaka’s dolls, with a teeny tiny brush and paper in hand.

Though Foul Legacy doesn't entirely get it, he understands that the stuffed toy is of great importance to you. He holds it so delicately, like it's made of glass, so his claws won't shred it. He'll mimic the way you treat it, patting it on the head and chirping curiously at it, as if it's a living creature. It takes him a while to realise how much the toy actually resembles him - there’s a level of disconnect between him and his physical form, but the moment he finds out, he can’t seem to stop thinking about it. He wonders why you’d want a plush of (what he perceives to be) such a monster, but it seems to bring you a great deal of comfort, so he lets it slide, making sure to always be extra careful when he’s tucking it in next to you while you sleep. He finds a whisper of familiarity and comfort in the way you treat the plush that makes him think back to days long past in a small, seaside village, supplying his little siblings with various toys and watching them play.

Gorou is utterly embarrassed - his immediate response is to ask if the Guuji Yae put you up to this. He cannot fathom why you’d be carrying around other than it being some sort of ploy to mess with him. He encourages you to put it away, seemingly worried about any of the other soldiers seeing and potentially teasing him for it - it’s all in good fun, of course, but Gorou is more than a little shy at the best of times. He doesn’t really get it, and may pull you aside to ask you more questions, but there’s just something about it that doesn’t seem to click for him. Though, once he knows you’re being kind and genuine, and that the plush was a one-off commission and not some kind of mass-produced piece, he’s more inclined to allow it, though he’ll get all blushy whenever he thinks about it - he just can’t quite process the fact that you like him enough to own something like that. Even if his soldiers happen to catch on, they realise that there’s a boundary of sorts there, though they may donate little trinkets and tiny toy weapons to the ‘miniature general’ as a sort of good luck ritual before big battles.

Tighnari finds the plush one day when you accidentally leave it sitting out - his initial reaction is one of utter confusion as he wonders if his admirers have grown so bold that they’re now making merchandise of him on top of the trading cards that are circulating. The moment he picks it up and realises it’s drenched in your scent, he’s pleasantly surprised and more than a little flattered. The concept of comfort objects is quite familiar to him, and he takes care to place the toy exactly where he found it. He keeps a closer eye out in an attempt to catch you in the act, partially out of curiosity, but also a little because he likes the confidence boost he gains from it, and how embarrassed you seem to be about the whole situation, hiding the toy away whenever he comes near. If it’s ever brought up, he just kind of laughs it off, but the twitching of his ears reveals how endeared he is to this specific trait of yours. He may also try to find ways to subtly direct you towards Collei, who also has similar comfort objects of her own and can be pretty embarrassed about them at times - this may end up with both of you having cute little Tighnari plushies in your possession.

Rex Lapis takes it pretty well in stride, doesn’t even comment on it at first - after all, this is basically a form of worship, no? That is, until he realises that you treat the toy as a companion more than an item of reverence. He’s a little confused about it at first, watching as you walk about with the plush dragon tucked in your arms, chattering away to it. Eventually, he caves and rumbles out his questions about it, asking if this is meant to be some form of teasing or mockery and listening intently as you awkwardly try to fumble out an acceptable explanation. It takes him some time to grasp the concept that it’s simply an item of comfort to you, and even then he’s not entirely convinced it’s some kind of adeptal trick or machine brought to life somehow.

Xiao isn’t sure how to react. It’s not something you really chose to hide from him, considering his own outlandish habits, you figured he probably wouldn’t even care, but it seems that his fight or flight kicks in whenever he glimpses you with the plush that bears such a striking resemblance to him. His cheeks flush and his pointed ears tilt downwards as he crosses his arms over his chest and demands to see the toy, asking where you got it and why you have it. It’s not quite something he can wrap his head around - why would you want to have something that looks like him when you could just call his name and have the real him there in an instant? If he’s feeling particularly agitated that day, he may just pocket the toy and walk away with it - it’s not the first time he’s done something like that to one of your belongings, and you know it won’t be the last. Following him reveals that he tucks it away in a secluded corner of his nest amongst the high branches of Wangshu Inn, maybe even placing some other similar trinkets and scraps of fabric around it like an imitation of his own nest. He might just turn a blind eye if you happen to be brave enough to try and steal it back from him, though this may end up in an impromptu long-term game of ‘capture the flag’.

Please don't repost, steal, copy or otherwise plagiarise my writing! I do not consent for my works to be translated and posted elsewhere, or used to teach bots!

[hrsshoe]

must keep him warm at all costs

[alualexaa]

@mismefancy Well, about that..

[It looks a little cramped, because I'm challenging myself to fit the idea in one page]

[m1d-45]

i’ve reread duality of man so many times, it’s completely captured my brain and i’m literally obsessed with it….. i’m going insane (/pos) imagining how it would feel for childe to learn that he was wrong, he was wrong and if it weren’t for foul legacy, his god would be dead at his hands!! how horrible it would be to learn that the creator trusts foul legacy over him because of his own actions!! FUCK!!!

inversion of fate

a/n: you are so right. target audience. anon is referencing this post.

word count: 1.8k

-> warnings: childe, major spoilers for his lore, imposter au things, it/its pronouns for foul legacy because it’s childe’s perspective

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yum1x || @esthelily

< masterlist >

childe doesn’t really see foul legacy as much more than an extension of himself, an extra tool he utilizes in the heat of battle, so to be shown that this ‘tool’ was correct? that his bloodlust had blinded him to the one thing that matters??? OUGH

foul legacy’s emotions sort of bleed into his due to the nature of their bond, so he can feel the genuine love that legacy feels for you and it drives him mad. he can tell it’s being genuine, that the claws swiping a strand of hair from your face are only moved by care, and it’s so irritating to him. he has to just sit there and simmer in the adoration from legacy, and he can’t do anything while you’re being so lovingly cared for by a creature of the abyss, only sit in a body he no longer has control over.

when foul legacy finally urges you to stand, he thinks it’s over. he tracks your direction and hears through abyssal ears, following your movement. he’s ready to go the moment that legacy gives up control.

maybe that’s why the moment never comes.

foul legacy closes its eye, spinning quickly to a seemingly random direction. it navigates solely by its own invisible senses, one’s childe’s brain isn’t wired to receive and decode, and he’s stunned into silence.

why is it going through so much trouble to protect you? surely it knows that even if childe isn’t the one, you’ll be caught eventually, right? it has to know that it can’t control his body forever (can it?) and that eventually he’ll get his revenge. it has to.

childe tries to keep himself oriented as best he can, if only to point others in the right direction, but legacy kept stopping to spin and confuse him. it only opened its eye once the sounds of the harbor reached its ears, and even then, childe found himself near the southern end of the harbor, near where the path split to lead up to the golden house.

he’d found you somewhere near luhua pool. he couldn’t tell whether to be impressed or annoyed that legacy managed to get him here so quickly.

standing on shaking legs, childe stumbled into the harbor. maybe it would be wise to get an agent to walk with him: he was always exhausted after a transformation, and this one was more mentally taxing than most.

in the back of his mind, he swears he can hear a satisfied rumble from the devouring deep.

it was rare that childe received a letter.

folders were common, crossing his desk to report on missions he didn’t order and announce things he didn’t ask about. orders themselves were common enough, ‘letters’ of notice in neat packages, a small box with a map and a card denoting what was to be done. he was familiar with both, as all harbingers were, but an actual letter?

childe spotted the bright blue paper from the moment he stepped into his office, slowly closing the door behind him. as he rounded his desk, he saw the bright gold wax seal shimmered under the light, taunting him from the center of his desk. the room was eerily quiet, the creak from his chair bouncing off the walls and back at him. as he picked up the envelope, the textured paper sparking a memory, the seal suddenly felt a lot more daunting.

the seal of the fatui was also a familiar thing. it was stamped on papers and issued on uniforms, badges and reports embossed with the dark four-pointed star. he had a stamp of it himself, in one of his drawers, though he’d admittedly swapped the usual black ink for a blood red. all the harbingers tended to put their own spin onto their paperwork, usually for ease of filing or to show off. signora had the corners of the seal spiked into flames, licking across orange ink. dottore had his in a variety of shades of blue, wire forming the outer ring.

pantalone had the circles in the star changed to mora.

he flipped it over just to be sure, reading the shining golden scrawl, but the writing in the corner confirmed it was from pantalone, the characteristic cursive ‘regrator’ justifying the weight of the paper. he doubted there was much more than a single page inside; pantalone was always rather concise, even if a touch flowery in the way he did it.

with a sigh, childe turned the envelope back over and fit a nail under the wax, neatly separating it from the textured paper. he pulled the letter out and turned it to the side: only one page, though it felt like three.

a laugh slipped from him. it felt forced. in the back of his mind, foul legacy chittered.

‘shut up,’ he muttered, tossing the empty envelope on his desk.

‘you will not wish for my silence much longer.’

childe paused, a finger under the flap of the folded paper. ‘what does that mean?’

‘what do you think it does?’

he shook off the cryptic response—though it’s been months since he ran into you, it’s been in a mood ever since—and unfolded the letter, beginning to read.

he almost wished he didn’t.

there’s only two paragraphs on the page—succinct as always, he thought numbly—but the paper weighed as much as a mountain in his hands.

it was a letter updating him on the hunt for the imposter. a common source of news for him, who couldn’t personally take part in it due to his foul legacy, but this…

no matter how many times he rereads the cursive scrawl, it refuses to register. the expensive paper wrinkles around where his thumb is pressing into it, his grip tightening with every passing moment in an attempt to combat the shake beginning to set in. the same words glare at him, unchanging, shimmering off the page like an oasis of poison.

he feels legacy crawl out of the cave in his head that it has sealed itself in, finally coming forward into the light of reality that childe is washed in. the abyss stares, inspecting the harsh gleam of truth, the shine that pierces into childe’s eyes and makes them water, the one that doesn’t go away even if he closes them. legacy chitters, almost like a laugh, and the paper finally falls from childe’s hands.

‘we were wrong,’ the paper says.

you were wrong, his mind repeats.

legacy reads the paper, cooing sadly at the news that you’ve been missing ever since zhongli cornered you. you’d slipped away in his shock, and he could feel the way it wanted to chase after you. the barrier between their minds was always rather thin, and he can feel it press against it, the sadness and concern bleeding into him.

legacy pawed at his mind, urging him to let it take over and find you, and childe couldn’t even find humor in the fact that a creature of the abyss was whining at him.

it was his fault. his fault, his, if he had just listened to legacy and to the call in his own heart, if he had stopped and thought like he was told, if he had recognized the fact that legacy would never turn down a fight-

something like pride washed into his mind from legacy but it didn’t register, the overwhelming realization that he’d tried to kill his god driving all thoughts from his mind.

and he would have succeeded were if not for the abyss.

the abyss itself, the liquid poison that clung to his skin and made him dream of stars fallen from the sky, the small part of it that he had to permanently take on to survive, that had been more right than his own mind. the very place known for being bloodthirsty and ruthless, that never turned down a fight and was the first to draw blood, had been kind to you. he should have noticed.

he was wrong. how could he be?

his foul legacy chittered, an equal mix of taunting him and asking to find you.

‘give up,’ it cooed, a bitter edge of false affection around its words. ‘you’ve already done enough.’

he hated that it was right.

he hated that were it not for legacy he would have hurt you further. he hated that he had the gall to try and taunt you, you, the one he’d sworn to devote his life to after he escaped the abyss. you who gave him a form strong enough to handle the devouring deep, you who gave him the strength to stand up and keep on, and he repaid you by hunting you down, claws bared.

and he hated that he would never be able to find you on his own.

‘let me find my god.’

‘my god,’ he weakly replied, but bile quickly rose in his throat. were you? did he even have the privilege of calling himself your follower if the only words he spoke to you were threats? could he call himself faithful when he pressed on after the abyss itself cried for mercy?

‘are you the one they held close?’

childe was going to be sick.

he wasn’t, he wasn’t, he was so awful that you had to turn to the abyss for comfort, his hands were so stained that even the highest of the high recoiled, weapon drawn. you, his light, the one thing that he could always rely on, the sole constant in his life, and he turned his back on you when you needed it most. he had willingly thrown it all away, blindly following a fake that took advantage of his faith. even when all the signs asked him to stop—to think—he had pressed onward, so blinded that a creature of sea and stars could see what he could not.

‘let me find them.’

he stared at his desk, at the work he still had to do, at the letter proclaiming his failure, at the wide window to his left that spanned nearly the entire wall, more than large enough for even his foul legacy, and made a decision.

ajax gave up his body, bitter in the knowledge that the only time he could only see you would be through another’s eyes, and sick in the understanding that it was all his fault.