#Foul Legacy's also less worshipping you and more of just loving you

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

mmm sagau brainrot you and Foul Legacy finally finding somewhere quiet to settle down, somewhere away from the rest of the world, away from the people who call you an imposter. the house is small, but it's comfortable and safe, almost as safe as when Childe holds you in his claws, and you couldn't be more grateful for both him and the house. it takes a while to get acclimated to having a place of your own after hiding in caves and abandoned buildings with Foul Legacy. for a long time you flinch whenever you hear an odd sound, something other than Childe's footsteps or gentle clicks and croons, and sometimes your ears trick you into hearing others, other false people who send you running for the comfort of Foul Legacy's arms. he's with you the entire time, cradling your broken body, keeping watch over your injuries, curling around you when you wake from a violent nightmare, all while letting out sweet purrs and trills. Childe helps you recover, helps you heal from the rest of the non-beliving world's crimes, because the Abyss never forgets the aura of the Creator. slowly, you brighten and begin to live again. your body still hurts, but it's muted, quiet in comparison to before, and you get to see Childe crooning over the scars that litter your skin, a dull gold from your oddly-colored blood. you begin to relish being awake and spending time with him, as you walking into the room always elicits a symphony of happy chirps from Foul Legacy. and for Childe, his Abyssal side no longer aches- instead, it's calming, settling on his shoulders like a warm blanket, and it just feels right. your favorite time is the early hours of morning, when sunlight peaks through the window and you're just waking up, because you get to bear witness to a peacefully sleeping Foul Legacy. if you shift even the slightest, he murmurs and drapes an arm over your torse, only waking when you trace your fingers over his face and horns. with a drowsy yawn, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, urging you to fall back asleep beside him. one day you wake up cold. with a shiver you pull the covers closer to your body with little effect, reaching to tuck yourself closer to Foul Legacy- only to find an empty space. you jolt awake, flinging yourself upright as you look around your old room in the real world, just the way you left it and without a comforting Abyss moth. was it just a dream- no, it couldn't be- the scars still cross over your hands and legs, body aching more than it has in weeks. you curl your fingers over each other, breathing shakily with oncoming panic- you're home- you'll never see Childe again- you'll never be held by Foul Legacy again- the game is real, it shines on your computer- what do you do what do you do what do you do- in Teyvat, Childe screams and weeps over the loss of his god's comforting aura and the weight of the world's sins on your shoulders.

[heartxofxthra]

Sooo, I wrote a little piece for Tavra, most of this was born on a very boring train ride, but I had the idea bouncing around in my head for a while. 

Since this is technically not an RP, feel free to reblog if you like it :D

Under the cut cause it's quite long.

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Journal entry The wind carries the scent of the storm again. It's warm, humid, dangerous... but tempting. 

It reminds me of that night... How could I ever forget it, after all? A storm was rolling in then too, I'd just come back from patrol, soaked to the bone after we'd all pulled double duty securing everything that wasn't nailed down in place already, and getting the few villagers that stupidly found themselves out in the middle of the storm seen safely back to their homes before it got worse. Oh how I longed for the warm comfort of a bed that night... I thought I was so close to it, but I was wrong. 

I was summoned to the great hall by order of my mother. I thought that was unusual, she'd usually call me to her chambers this late at night, but nonetheless I answered, trudging down the hall in wet boots I hadn't yet had a chance to change. 

As I got closer and closer, the halls started reverberating with raised voices. Accusations, slander, insults. 

I didn't know what I was walking in on until my palm touched against the ornate stained glass of the door, and every sense I had screamed danger. The scent of the storm was still pulsing against my nostrils. When I pushed the doors open, I found myself scrutinized by a room of sharp eyes. The Sifan maudra, her Elders, the Vapran court, my sister Seladon, and the sharpest stare of them all belonged to my mother herself. I thought I'd been careful with my escapades, but someone had found out and told on me. One of the Paladins, hoping to gain the All-maudra's favor. He didn't earn hers, and he'd lost mine. I never quite trusted them the same after that night... 

They hadn't dared to follow me too far, hadn't known who I was seeing, nor had they been able to recognize their ship, and for a moment I felt relief. But the moment didn't last. 

My mother was furious at my affair. I denied it, but she wouldn't have any of it. She never believed me, not even all those times I was innocent, why would she start now? With the entire reputation of the maudren house on the line? She warned the Sifan maudra of keeping her clan in check, almost threatened her at that. To find the "responsible" and punish them, repercussions promised otherwise. And then all were dismissed. 

Save for me. My name never felt more painful rolled off her lips than on that night.

I felt their footsteps leaving as if they were treading upon my very soul, the echoing of the chamber mimicking the thoughts colliding inside my head, in tune with the pattering of rain on the windows. I felt their scowls burn the back of my head. Their helping of scorn and humiliation was my fault, after all, and I did not blame them. I bowed my head and avoided their glances. And yet, even then, I knew that they would not keep their promise.

The Sifa's priorities had never been to punish one of their own kind for something as trivial as this. They would feign and stall until the interest was lost, and then have it be lost forever like a trinket sunk beneath the waves. Never would they hand over one of their own willingly to the wrath of the All-maudra. I admired them for that. The Vapra had always been eager to sell each other out for influence, or less. 

I never understood why my mother had always held such bad blood for the Sifa. Many knew there was something buried deep, but if anyone held more knowledge than I did, they refused to tell. From where I was standing, it seemed like a petty feud that would see generations of scorn until someone, like her, would dare look past the curtain.

I dreaded when the hall was left empty. All of my instincts were clawing at me to get away. The silence felt like a mountain upon my shoulders.

I had seen this coming, somehow it had always been at the back of my mind, a lone thought coming and going like the bounce of an echo off the mountains, you'd hear it once and it would drift off again. 

I was left alone with my mother and sister. She had to witness this, after all, save she would ever think of doing the same. I hadn't managed uttering a word before her palm connected to my cheek. It rattled my teeth and my thoughts. I barely looked up, that another came. The second time I didn't look up again. She said I'd brought shame to her name, to our legacy, that I muddied it. How she thought she'd raised me better than this. How I'd betrayed her, and her trust. How she'd have to bow her head in disgrace because of me. How it would take trine upon trine to repair the damage I'd so recklessly caused. I was called foolish, selfish, perverted, my lover slandered as if she had been a mere trinket of pleasure I'd chased just to spite her, because in the end it was always about mother.

I couldn’t understand how someone could speak so foul of a person they hadn’t even laid eyes upon. When they didn’t know just how much warmth their crystalline laughs brought Tavra, how she’d feel her heart skip a beat when her hair twirled around right before their eyes would meet. How her touch brought feeling where Tavra had once thought it all stamped out. Haunting thoughts quieted by Onica’s wisdom, and night terrors soothed by her mere voice... 

Onica... 

My mind and my heart drifted to her like a windsifter on a warm current, even as my mother's harsh words bounced off my ears. I knew in that moment that home was not there. Home was far away, on salt-stained skirts, auburn curls, and sun-kissed skin. Home was on the rocking waves under a ship, curled up in warm arms that had so reluctantly let me go, even despite my promises that I'd return soon. 

For the first time, I understood what home really meant. Before, I had thought it was just an empty word that people threw around. I never grasped any of it, never could relate to those stories and feelings. But as humiliation tore out bits of my soul, they knew well where they wanted to fly off to. 

And so did I. 

Tears began to run down my cheeks, tentatively at first, then pouring. They stung after a while, and it was wonderful. They were happy, and it felt as if every tear was less of a weight on my heart.

I looked up, and my eyes fell on Seladon. I had never seen her more torn in my life than she looked now, desperately keeping her tongue. I wished I could tell her to be brave. My mother's glare softened. She took my tears for repentance, and when I said I was sorry, she accepted it with pride. 

In truth, I was sorry for never being enough. Sorry for always being wrong, for being a disappointment. I was sorry for ever putting my doubts between me and Onica. I was sorry I ever dared to say my mother could be better than the resentment which consumed her. I was sorry I ever dared to believe she would understand, that it would bridge the chasm between our people, and that she would be capable of putting her own feelings aside for just a moment. I was sorry that I believed and I was wrong. I was sorry I was still sat there, knelt before her, when I knew I was truly loved and wanted elsewhere. She thought she was teaching me a lesson, but in truth... She only taught me I didn't belong with her. 

Mother punished me, of course. My rank was stripped away, and I would be put into grunt service again. I would eat, sleep, and dress like a commoner, so I would appreciate my place better. 

The captain was given orders to keep me under lock and key at nights, guarded so that I wouldn't even think of running off again. But if she'd ever truly listened to me, she'd have known the guards were prone to getting drunk, on Sifan liquor nonetheless. She would have also known I had learned to pick locks. 

I'd never flown with such abandonment before, the storm didn't scare me any longer. It carried me like a feather, with my wings feeling every ripple and vibration in the current as if I had been born on it. I was laughing as the rain was splashing my face and trickling through my shirt, like a kind forest stream. 

When Onica saw me, she was furious. She couldn't believe I had flown there in such a storm. I kissed her like my life depended on it, for it did. Her warm, smooth lips breathed life into me like I felt I was experiencing for the first time. 

I made love to her that night, I gave myself fully onto her with every inch of my being, no shame or fear or boundary. I worshipped her in our bed, showed her just how much I loved her, and oh how she loved me in return... I told her everything that happened, and told her that I wasn't going back. That I didn't want to hide anymore. 

I don't know if it was sorcery, or if my heart just learned to hear her wisdom clearly, but she convinced me to go back. That a fugitive's life was not something that I wanted, and it would not let our love live as we would want to, reminded me that my sisters were left behind, and that they still needed me. Perhaps... though the bile it brought to think about it, I was being selfish too. She is truly an Elder her people would be fortunate to follow. 

I thanked her, and kissed her sweetly, and for a few more hours, we sat together, bodies wrapped around each other like one, talking dreams to each other. Dreams that didn't seem so impossible now that I wasn't afraid of them. 

Morning found me back in confines, door locked as if it had never even been opened. I worked diligently through mud and muck to earn my place again, never a protest or complaint. I accepted the humiliation willingly, because I knew this was not my fate, but simply a cover I was striving for. Mother thought I was reformed, thought she'd taught me a lesson. In truth, she'd only made it clear I needed to hide better and nothing more, and that's just what I did. 

I received back my crown and my rank with back straight and chin high. My mother was proud. I was too. 

They wouldn't catch me ever again.