#you have to convince the fatui to let you stay with ajax while he recovers

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

(psst, if you're seeing this, my inbox doesn't have much brainrot in it right now, so send me some Foul Legacy thoughts :)

anyways the release of the latest Shimmering Voyage album is bringing back all sorts of memories about the Fontaine Archon Quests including Childe's incredible stunning amazing cameos i love him so here's some food for thought.

the moment that strange woman- Skirk, you vaguely hear her name. it's short and otherworldly, fitting for someone with stars and facets etched onto their limbs- she tears a horrified gasp from your throat the moment she tosses Childe, Ajax, through that portal, and immediately you push past her and leap in yourself, ignoring Neuvillette's yells of protest. it's not as if you were supposed to be here in the first place, only your Snezhnayan blood saving you from potentially being dissolved, but you weren't about to let Ajax go without you after seeing his Foul Legacy form fall, armor cracked and smoldering. so you follow him again, tumbling through a void splashed with constellations and stars, leaving the Iudex and the Traveler and mysterious Skirk far behind.

you land hard on your back, the air rushing out of you as you gasp and wheeze. tall green grass sways around you, tickling your cheeks and bruised hands, and with a groan you roll over and sit up. your eyes catch a fluff of ginger hair amongst the foliage, and without even thinking you call to the prone Harbinger.

"Ajax!"

he stirs with a faint hiss, deadened blue eyes opening just a crack to gaze at you. a smile flits across his lips, but it's quickly stifled by a grimace of pain and the cracking of bones and skin. you reach for him with panicked worry, and are met instead by sharp, bloody claws. Foul Legacy grips your hand desperately, letting out a trembling whine as he drags his injured body closer and presses against you. the Abyssal monster weeps softly in your arms, shifting and curling until his head is leaning against your stomach and your hand is in his hair, trying to make up for the days he spent fighting that dreaded narwhal. you simply do your best to comfort him, threading your fingers through his thick hair and cleaning blood from his armor with gentle murmurs- you're safe now, I'm here, everything will be okay.

with you at his side again, Foul Legacy finally believes it.

[starrconch]

NEEDED COMFORT

★ Includes: Childe / Tartaglia, Scaramouche, GN reader, comfort, reader comforting s/o, Scaramouche punching a wall

★ Word Count: 1055

★ Master List

★ Notes: You can find the request information here

CHILDE / TARTAGLIA

★ The eleventh fatui harbinger was skilled at what he did. That was why he was able to gain such a high status at such a young age.

★ However, because of this, it wasn’t often that he dealt with the hands of failure.

Your partner had arrived home a little later than usual which wasn’t too out of the blue, though it did strike worry through you. Perhaps he just had a bit more work to deal with than he normally did. When you heard the front door open, a wave of relief washed over you.

“Ajax!” You leapt off of the couch to rush over to see him. “Welcome home! I’ve started dinner already as you came back late, so it should be ready in about half an hour.”

“Oh, okay,” he responded, shrugging off his coat and heading for the living room.

Frowning at his aloof reply, you followed after him. What happened? Was he injured? Was he about to collapse onto your coach and leave bloodstains all over it again?

“Hey, what’s the matter?” You reached out to touch his arm, but he turned away, his shoulders beginning to shake with the tears he held back.

“I- I’m useless.” Childe’s head hung down in shame. “I failed the mission I was on and now… now I can’t face anyone. They’re going to strip me of my harbinger title.”

“Hey,” you grabbed your partner’s face between your hands, “no they won’t.” Nudging him over to the couch, you pulled him into a tight embrace, running your hands through his hair. His body shook as he silently cried, burying his face into your shirt.

You hadn’t realised how exhausted he felt as he rested against you. When was the last time he even took a day off of working for the fatui? When did he last take time off to look after his injuries or simply recover mentally from a mission? It had to be over a few years now.

“It’s okay,” you whispered in his ear. “Everyone messes up once in a while. Not everything will always go perfectly.”

“But I haven’t failed in ages, not since I was just an agent. What will the Tsaritsa think of me?” It hurt you to see your partner so defeated. You hated to admit it, but you preferred his talk about crushing the thrones of gods beneath his heel.

“Don’t think like that. A failure doesn’t define you, it’s how you deal with it and fix it that does.” You pressed a kiss on his cheek, holding him closer.

The two of you stayed wrapped in each other’s arms for a long while until Childe’s sobs died down. When he raised his head, your shirt had a small wet patch where his face had been.

“Thank you, I really needed that.” He returned the kiss that you had given him, though this time, he placed it on your lips. A confused expression crossed his face as he sniffed the air. “Is something burning?”

You gasped in horror, running into the kitchen. “The dinner!”

SCARAMOUCHE

★ The balladeer couldn’t believe it. After all the effort he had put into his work, into all of his missions, they had failed.

★ It made him feel hopeless. Worthless. But luckily for him, you were there to convince him otherwise.

Your front door slammed shut with so much force that you thought it would tear off the hinges, letting you know your partner was home and he wasn’t happy.

When you approached the entrance to your home, you saw your partner standing there, his hat tossed aside on the ground. His face held an expression of angered pain. His features were twisted into those of someone filled with rage, but his eyes only had sorrow present in them.

“Scara? What happened? Are you-” Your words were cut off by Scaramouche’s fist connecting with the wall in front of him. It wasn’t enough to make a hole, but still, it left a decently sized dent.

You would have been mad at him had he not suddenly broken down into tears, slowly sliding down to sit on the floor. It broke your heart.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You sat down beside him, taking his hands in your own to soothe the pain that clearly ran through his red knuckles and to stop him from potentially hitting your poor wall again.

“I can’t do anything right! All week, all of my missions have been failing. Every single one. I just can’t get anything done anymore.” He lifted your hands to his face so he could hide his sadness with them.

“That’s not true.” Carefully pulling your arms away from him, leaving your partner confused at your lack of contact, you stretched them out in a silent question of an embrace. Anger was something the balladeer was familiar with, but you’d never seen him so angry with himself. It was strange.

Looking between you and the wall that he had punched, Scaramouche shuffled into your hug. He let your arms wrap around him in comfort, your hands rubbing soothing circles on his back.

“You’re not failing, you’re just stressed. It’s a sign that you need a well-earned break,” you explained into his ear.

“And if I take a break then I continue to mess everything up? I’ll be kicked out of the fatui.”

“You won’t. You haven’t been messing everything up for the whole of this week anyway. What about the successful infiltration team you sent into Inazuma?” Your partner turned his head so that his ear was pressed just above your heart. “What about the delusions you managed to get into the Resistance’s army without them even realising?”

All he replied with was a shrug, causing you to smile against his head. He knew you were right and didn’t want to admit it.

“You’ve done great things. You shouldn’t let that pale in comparison to the few bad ones that occurred.”

After taking a deep breath, Scaramouche sat up and slipped out of your embrace. He kept his gaze trained on the ground, unable to meet your loving eyes. “Thank you. I guess sometimes you can be quite helpful.”

You had to stifle your laughter. Was that a compliment?

“I’ll get someone to fix the wall, so don’t you dare think about doing it yourself.”