#a foul legacy ┊✦┊ ░░░░░░ devouring deep

[notachilde]

#tags for notachilde#

[dkniade]

So between the two (three?) titles he introduces himself with as a playable character, and some others, which one do you usually use when referring to him

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

my body: *decides to execute itself*

me: Childe Tartaglia Ajax Foul Legacy the Devouring Deep the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger wouldn't treat me like this

[blood-orange-juice]

Okay, so who was going to tell me that "Foul Legacy - The Devouring Deep" is not "devouring deep", it's in fact "extremely evil art: devouring whale".

極惡法「鯨吞噬滅」

Why the whale. Why is the whale so important for an attack that doesn't involve summoning a whale.

Where is this guy, I need to talk.

Also.

Tales from the waves books. Everyone talks about the Skipper and Parsifal but who the hell was that girl. That's Colombina behaviour right there, although I doubt it's Colombina.

This implies a Teyvat tradition of eerily unfazed maidens who love to sing.

We also have Watatsumi whale songstresses but I doubt she was one.

[myfanfic-urfantrash]

Limits

Blade x Tartaglia

Cw: nsfw, monsterfucking

A/N: @degen-sienne I'm in too deep... just like Tartaglia-*shot*

-------

Tartaglia knows his limits but he always pushes past them and Blade is no different. Be it their spars or training they always push past what they've done the previous day to become a better, stronger self. This is no different, his Foul Legacy was just another form to test his limits and to Blade it was perfect to test his own.

His single eye traces the outline of his inhuman cock inside Blade. He's only two thirds of the way inside him yet he can see himself so clearly, the bulge of Blade's bare stomach is mesmerizing. Blade pants, shoulders heaving in frustration and exhaustion that he cannot physically fit in more of Tartaglia inside himself.

Tartaglia lifts his enlarged clawed hand and with his thumb gently presses on the bulge of Blade's stomach making his eyes widen at the sensation. He tries to speak but nothing but air passes his lips.

It's nice to render Blade speechless like this instead of being the one left gasping for words. He can't help the way his inhuman lips lift nor how his thick forked tongue slips through to lick them.

He doesn't wait to devour the man before him bringing Blade in to a fierce kiss. It's not like their usual ones, filled with teeth and his struggle for dominance. Tartaglia dominates Blade with just the sheer size of his tongue as he bullies his way into his mouth.

Blade chokes on his tongue but doesn't make any sign of wanting to stop, instead Blade's trembling hands cling to his armored belly. He lifts his shaking hips and rushes back down once and only once before he's spent, fluid splattering on his belly. But that's no problem as Tartaglia wraps his hand around Blade's torso and lifts him just enough before rushing him back down on his length.

Blade's muffled cry is enough to make him pull back but he doesn't get far as those desperate hands yank him back down meeting the burning gaze of Blade.

"Don't you dare stop."

He doesn't need to be told twice, setting a brutal pace. Blade's moans echo through his ears but his eye focuses on obscene way the flesh of his stomach stretches with each thrust. Blade's choked laughter makes him look up to see the absolute wild look in Blade's eyes as he grins like a mad man.

If he didn't know any better he'd think he was crazy, but perhaps the both of them are crazy. No sane man would let his body be used like a mere toy by something nearly three times their size. No, they were both insane. Who cared when they could match each other's limits?

Blade releases on his stomach once again but doesn't beg him to stop nor does he use their chosen word. Instead he grips at the wrist of the hand holding him tightly as if threatening to break it should he stop before he's through. Tartaglia wouldn't be surprised if he could break it despite the position he's in.

Tartaglia presses his thumb against the bulge of his stomach and keeps moving, seeking his own release. It comes quickly making his whole body shudder and Blade laughs, laughs as if he's won though weak and tired he is. Tartaglia doesn't remove him just yet, tracing his thumb over the larger swell of Blade's belly. He presses down and feels fluid slip down his cock. Curious he lifts Blade and he groans as he's left empty, large amounts of cum slipping past his enlarged hole.

He laughs again as more leaks out of him and Tartaglia can't help but join him though it's distorted. Yep they were definitely insane.

[narwhalandchill]

theres people out there that dont want childe to die bc they like him.

me however. im different. i like childe and i explicitly want this guy to die. and im very specific about the when and how too.

i dont want a forced dumb predictable redemption arc or a self sacrifice. i dont want to see him reform his abysspilled unhinged chaos-sowing ways or break free from his 'twisted fate'. i dont want to see him "learn". i want to see him master foul legacy and witness as he grows stronger and stronger until he reaches his apex as a warrior rivaling the heavens at the peak of his pride and hubris.

i want him to embrace and finally fulfill the destiny the abyss bestowed upon him of being the one to overturn the world at the climax of the story. i want him to rip the tenets holding teyvats heavenly principles and world order apart as he gives gold a run for her money in terms of the utter catastrophe about to unfold if we dont stop him in time. forcing the traveler to face him once and for all as the world lies defeated at his feet just like he promised before. and all throughout this he remains the same gleeful battle maniac as before that sees us as his greatest rival and friend. only caring for the exhilaration of that fated final showdown even as the stakes couldnt be higher bc what does it matter to him? he may be acting as the abyss' chosen champion through the fulfillment of his ambition but for him it always boils down to the thrill of battle and conquest anyway. nothing more, nothing less - so he welcomes us with a smile once more for the last time.

and then i want us to fight him to the death. i want him to die as teyvat public enemy #1 and the final boss and the true manifestation of the world-devouring abyssal deep and the celestial star-whale he awakened at 14. dissolving into and becoming one with the very cosmic dark that made him who he was.

[clocktowerechos]

Factions of the Hellsworn Pact

of the Brightest Night AU

"Such a wonderous galaxy. I feel it better for it to be soaked in screams and bathed in blood. Too much? Yes, too much. Let us just burn it to cinders instead~ Then we can bath in screams!" ~ "Blessed" Lady Malys, the Everqueen of Chaos

The Ruinous Powers

With the existence of both the God Emperor and Isha being active players on the galactic stage, the Dark Gods have focused significantly more resources and attention to the material universe. Breaks in their great game are more common and they pour more of their power into their greatest champions. After their failure to corrupt the Primarchs, they have turned to alternative measures. Of particular note is Nurgle and Slaanesh. Nurgle holds a deep grudge against the Alliance and is determined to recapture Isha. Slaanesh however faces an entirely separate dilemma. Wish Isha being able to contest Eldar souls, Slaanesh faces a very real possibility of starvation from said souls, a terrifying concept for a god of excess. Thus they've had to adapt an entirely new way of executing their plans, most often through the Dark Eldar or the Chaos Eldar Their greatest champion is Lady Malys, known as the Everqueen of Chaos, the Black Maiden, and the Fel Lady among other titles. She is the "Abaddon", greatest champion of Chaos. Her blasphemous union to Asdrubael Vect remains the greatest profane ritual since the Birth of Slaanesh. Where as Abaddon has stable plans, Lady Malys swings between bouts of madness and genius brilliance. It is hard for the Alliance to try and counter her as often her Black Crusades simply have the goal of wrecking as much chaos and destruction as possible. As long as they are not stopped at the Cadian Gates, it is considered a success.

The Lost and the Damned / Traitor Astartes

While none of the Primarchs were ever swayed to the side of Chaos, due in part to the more open knowledge of what they really where, and the Horus Hersey never occurring, there was never a corruption of half the legions. However, over the course of the long millennium plenty have fallen to Chaos with its more focused attention. Regiments of Guardsmen, Chapters of Astartes, Maniples of Skitarri, Orders of Sororitas, and even a Custodes according to dark rumors have fallen, to serve new masters. None are truly safe from damnation in this universe. Some are ragtag rebel bands, heretical guerillas who serve whatever master will grant them power and supplies. Others have formed entire stellar kingdoms, organized and coordinated groups who pose a much more significant threat on the Materium than their raiding Warp-borne counterparts.

The Chaos Eldar

Known as the Croneworld Eldar or Shadishari meaning "Warp Corrupted", they are the inheritors of the foul legacy of the old, depraved Eldar Empire. The birth of Slaanesh had devastated them at first, but soon the Dark Gods found ready worshippers among them, their souls blackened and minds twisted by untold eons of degeneracy and blasphemous indulgence. Slaanesh was the first to bring back a handful of corrupted Eldar who had actually enjoyed the process of having their souls devoured, to which the Prince of Pleasure greatly loved. With most of the Croneworlds trapped in the Warp, they are a hellish successor to the worst aspects of the Eldar. Frequently raiding, pillaging, and conquering in the name of the Chaos Gods, they outnumbers their uncorrupted cousins and their greatest members have achieved a level of immortality by having their souls constantly regurgitated. It is said an Shadishari Daemon Prince is amongst the most dangerous forms of one with the Imperium and the Alliance going to great lengths to stop their ascension whenever possible.

The Dark Eldar

Pirates and raiders hailing from the Dark City, many have combined forces with the Croneworld Eldar for their own ends. The greatest difference between them being their relation to Chaos, while the Croneworld actively embrace and wish for the power of the gods to infuse them, the Dark Eldar have little appreciation for the Dark Gods. They do not have the same assurances of being returned after death like their Croneworld cousins but the power their alliance brings is too great to be ignored. In canon, there is sometimes a tenuous understanding between Craftworld and Dark Eldar that they are kin and to not mess with each other too much, such an understanding does not exist here. The Drukhari will happily prey upon Craftworlds and Exodite Worlds as readily as any others and the Craftworlds call for the death of their fallen cousins. It is for this reason the Webway is significantly more dangerous to use as Croneworld and Dark Eldar prowl its tunnels without regard of who might catch their blades. Some have refused to accept the power of Chaos, especially after the marriage of Vect to Malys. They have escaped Commorragh and set up their own kabals and outposts in the Materium.

The Ashen Kyn

The Long Night was not kind to the Kyn and they were not immune to the gaze of the ruinous powers. When some holds and stations were cut off from their fellows, many became desperate. Their Votann became corrupted, either by rampant data overload, or direct techno-arcane sorceries. Bitter and hateful at how they believed themselves to be abandoned by their cousins and by their Votann Cores, they turned to Chaos and found good company with Vashtorr the Arkifane. Now they serve as critical resupply and production points for raiding Chaos fleets, rivalled only by the Hell-Forges of the Dark Mechanicum. They tend to focus on infernal engineering over daemonology, favored by the Dark Mechanicum.

The Dark Mechanicum

While the Hersey was avoided by the Imperium, the Mechanicum could not prevent the Schism of Mars. Fabricator General Kelbor-Hal refused censure by the Imperial Household and cease his delving into forbidden archeo-tech. Even with the intersession of the God Emperor Aurelian, he openly halted but kept going in secret. As he dove deeper and deeper, he became more corrupted by the whispers in his code. Telling him that he could become as powerful as the Man of Gold and then all the secrets of the universe and all the lost technology of Humanity's golden age. When he was discovered once again, Kelbor-Hal declared his intention to break away from the Imperium and called the red banners to arms. However, in his hurry, he failed to adequately access the political reality of the Mechanicum. Only half rallied to him with the other staying loyal. The following Schism broke the Mechanicum with a civil war that the Imperium intervened in. Despite claiming victory, the Imperium could not hunt down the newly forged Dark Mechanicum as in their distracted state, Chaos forces and Greenskin hordes launched the War of the Beast in an attempt to destroy the Imperium, letting the survivors flee into the war and to uncharted systems to rebuild anew. They have become masters of fusing metal and daemon in their terrifying arcane Hell-Forges

The Greenskin Hordes

The Orks are only "allied" to the forces of Chaos in the loosest sense, often being manipulated by the Croneworld Eldar to serve as cannon fodder or distractions. For their part, the Orks do not mind as they see it as an excellent opportunity to fight. Their power has been greatly increased by the appearance of "Brain Boyz" or "Brain Bosses", intelligent Ork warbosses who understand the Orks far more than their brutish nature would imply, their mere present boosting the intelligence and coordination of other Orks. Dubbed "Ork Bossmasters", they turn a fractious, infighting-prone mob into a proper military force capable of complex tactical maneuvers, long term planning, and huge engineering projects such as Attack Moons. Having first arisen during the Chaos-empowered War of the Beast, their numbers have only grown with the passing centuries to the point there is a recorded incident of a "Green Crusade", where an Ork Bossmaster led a combination Black Crusade and WAAAGH with Chaos forces.

[kurara-black-blog]

For all we know, Childe gets backlash from the Foul Legacy only and not his delusion, reason being the Abyss in him eats the delusion's energy that could lead to backlash. Or maybe I just really like the idea of The Devouring Deep to keep Childe alive by devouring whatever else damages gim, but it hurts his very much not abyssal body.

[nightmarearian]

I want more Khaenri’ah crumb but what I want more is Rhinedottir and Skirk crumbs. Espacially Skirk, I want her so bad

f u c k y e a h

mightjustbecauseChilde’safavoriteofminebutanyways-

especially cause found family is best family (trope) and found family w/ Skirk & Childe? Yes pls-

She’s probably Khaenri’ahn, it’d be kinda weird to not have her be Khaenri’ahn tbh

I wonder how her “foul legacy” looks like; Childe, during the his transformation, says “Foul Legacy - The Devouring Deep”

He/Foul Legacy has another epithet, and the ‘Devouring Deep’ probably half-references the fact he fell and then was ‘devoured’ by the abyss to how he is now as well as his Hydro vision

Is she associated with the Abyss Order? Or is she like Dain and disapproving of their methods, though still reminiscent of Khaenri’ah?

…i do hope she becomes playable tho, like

That’s be sick

.

I’m not as interested in Rhinedottir but still,

I wonder if she’d be associated somehow with the Abyss Order, what with the tainted homunculi and all,

I don’t usually think of them to much w/o my thoughts mainly being on the person I associate them most with (Childe & Albedo, respectively)

And per the new short story thing Hoyo released, Rhine’ sees Albedo as her child, and then says “I suppose that still makes me a mother”

So… she had a child(ren)…? Assumedly, but she could be referring to other homunculi, like Durin or Subject 2 Albedo

Sorry for being so late lmao I drafted something and then forget abt it Σ(￣◇￣;)

[captivemuses]

@inanthesis, for Zhongli from his rascal

Consciousness wasn't something Childe had been too familiar with the past two weeks.... or maybe it had been three; the concept of time passing wasn't easily grasped either when his body felt like it was made of lead and simple movements had taken a lot of time to be done without a considerable amount of effort, and even after however long he'd been back home in Snezhnaya Childe was still not fully healed.

A full month of near consistent combat while in the depths of Primordial Sea had done a significant number on his body to say the least. He may have somehow been able to survive in there without food and rest and suitable drinking water, but the strain on his body from using Foul Legacy for so long had taken its worst toll on Childe yet from the sheer length of time he'd been using the Abyssal Powers. Never would have been advisable, but had been a necessary evil unbeknownst to him during that time belowground.

When he was asleep, Childe may as well have been as unconscious as being in a coma for as deeply as he slept and how difficult it was to wake him up before his body was done resting again. Though while he'd been in that real of unconsciousness there'd been something pulling at his attention, but whatever it was had not been successful at pulling him towards it for some time.

Three weeks was inching closer to four weeks back at home, and whenever energy had permitted he'd been penning a fresh letter to send off to Liyue along with the practice calligraphy that had been mentioned to his lover awhile ago. But bursts of physical energy to sit down and write were often short before aches and fatigue forced him to get back to bed, and Childe didn't want Zhongli getting an overly short or vague letter that may cause more worry from not explaining why the consultant hadn't been able to contact him for even longer than their last conversation in Childe's dreamscape. But at least the periods of time which he spent sleeping or having difficulty doing simple things were slowly but surely becoming slower. Time was what Childe needed so his body and muscles could heal from the extensive wear and tear it had gone through fighting the All Devouring Narwhal. Somehow more serious injuries had eluded him and the superficial bruises on his body from hits had long since healed.

And now that they'd had a conversation once on this plane, Childe was familiar with hearing the call of his lovers voice in attempts to locate him, and it was the first time Childe had slept more normally and he was finally able to respond to that call. The deep tones of the former Archons voice rang out, and the Harbinger was able to consciously look around the empty space to call back and find him.

"It's been awhile since I was able to hear you calling me, huh? Didn't realize how much I missed hearing it until I am now."

[effable-as-f]

How much do you want to bet that the final boss or at least semi-final boss is gonna be your twin and they're gonna fight you with all seven elements AND a Foul Legacy transformation

[maddyshome]

Soooo I think that the Abyss is much older than Khaenri'ah and the khaenrian citizens just moved there because their region was destroyed. The Abyss is most likely connected to Celestia and is probably just as old. 

[dkniade]

sksjksks I can’t- who on the team named these (lovely) constellations

Fischl 🤝 Childe: Long fancy names for their constellations

Fischl

Gaze of the Deep

Devourer of all Sins

Wings of Nightmare

Her Pilgrimage of Bleak

Against the Fleeing Light

Evernight Raven

-

Childe

Foul Legacy: Tide Withholder

Foul Legacy: Understream

Abyssal Mayhem: Vortex of Turmoil

Abyssal Mayhem: Hydrosprout

Havoc: Formless Blade

Havoc: Annihilation

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

EVERYONE SAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO AJAX CHILDE TARTAGLIA FOUL LEGACY THE DEVOURING DEEP MONOCEROS CAELI ELEVENTH OF THE FATUI HARBINGERS RIGHT NOW

[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.

[ninas-gf]

foul legacy: the devouring deep sounds like a brand of overdramatic, edgy energy drink to me. or the name of someone’s pet roomba