asterialquasar reblogged
asterialquasar reblogged
part two to this post <33
Tartaglia knows he’s done wrong when you brush past him without so much as a glance, features sharp and cold, so different from the sweet, kind person he knew years ago. when he saw the look in your eyes, he had nearly shivered. where was that telltale twinkle, that always glinted happily when you saw something wonderful that you simply had to show him? where was the quirk in your lips when you thought of something funny or mischievous? and where was the gentleness in your hands, your gaze, that you directed to everyone you loved? he shivers, and wonders if that’s what he looked like when he crawled back out of the Abyss, all those years ago. Foul Legacy whines as he watches you leave, and Tartaglia has to restrain himself from transforming and running after you right then and there- his Abyssal side was particularly attached to you, perhaps even more than Tartaglia himself was, if that was even possible. he watches you in the Harbor, peering out of the corner of his eye as his agents ramble on about something unimportant. he sees how you talk to people; politely, but not kindly, a business transaction and nothing more; and he wonders how alone you might be. aren’t you lonely, barely talking to anyone outside of work? don’t you want friends to support and lift your spirits through the darkest days? but it’s clear that the answer is no, no you don’t. for every interaction ends as quickly as it began, and you step away with the same polite expression you always had now, steeled resolve underneath your calm exterior. you don’t trust anyone anymore. Tartaglia knows you never had many friends as a child- you always said you preferred to have a few close friends than several distant ones- ah. guilt stabs his chest. he remembers that day, the day you cried in front of him, *because* of him. Foul Legacy had hated him that day, growling and hissing on the edge of his subconscious. how dare he treat you like that? the person who comforted him and held his hand and reassured him when he felt he couldn’t possibly live up to his family’s standards. the person who promised to remain by his side forever if he swore to do the same. the person who had saved his sanity in the Abyss, and the person who calmed Foul Legacy’s rage even on the stormiest of nights. how dare he. how dare he. Tartaglia chokes on his silent tears, thanking the Archons that he’s in the countryside of Liyue instead of the Harbor. he wipes his tears and sighs, and Foul Legacy mumbles with him, clearly displeased and restless. then his senses perk at the sound of voices, and he makes his way through the grass to investigate. Treasure Hoarders- of course, they always operate in these areas. they’re snickering and nodding, and he’s about to turn and leave, in no mood for a fight tonight, when he sees what they’re all looking at. you. sitting calmly by a tree and immersed in some book. you look peaceful, unaware of the Hoarders watching you a ways up the hill, and Childe feels his blood boil. there’s a growling sound from somewhere deep in his throat, and before he can blink the Treasure Hoarders are laying dead, covered in claw marks. Foul Legacy coughs, then wheezes and doubles over, not accustomed to being used right after his weekly sparring sessions. Tartaglia feels like he’s floating, only partially awake, but Foul Legacy’s concern is so strong that they both feel rising worry when he turns towards where you are. you’re fine. you didn’t hear a thing, simply continuing to read your book like nothing happened, and Foul Legacy rumbles quietly in relief before keeling over in a dead faint and taking Tartaglia with him. but he knows now what he must do. he’ll protect you from the shadows, keeping you from harm to make up for the way he himself harmed and broke your heart. perhaps then, he can inch closer, let you know that you can open up again to him, and apologize to you. perhaps he can someday hold you close and take you to wonderful places and satisfy Foul Legacy’s crave for your attention, your love. perhaps one day, he can leave “Tartaglia” behind and be Ajax to you again.
tagging: @ifelloutofbed
(oh btw feel free to send me brainrot related to this. slow burn/slow regaining of trust is my jam)
asterialquasar reblogged
Anonymous asked:
OMG I’m in love with your blog and I’m always checking to see if you posted something. I absolutely loved your scenario “Routine in Gold”. It was *chef’s kiss*. Can I request a part 3? Maybe with comfort in it? :)
well well WELL my angst did its job now did it? i can understand wanting a happier ending, so let's make it happen!!! >:)
~ * ~ Cracks and Gold
Foul Legacy Childe x Reader Gender Neutral (no pronouns mentioned) Hurt/Comfort Warnings: Allusions to injuries, crying, initial dislike of Childe and the Fatui
You hate the Harbinger, right? So why does your heart betray you, day after day?
~ * ~
It’s the Traveler who approaches you, days later, weaving through the crowds to lunge forward and snatch your wrist on one cloudy gray afternoon. They’ve seen better days; their golden hair is frazzled and messy and their amber eyes are tired, bags heavy and bruise-colored. They pull you by the arm, forcefully tugging you down an alley and behind a building with considerable strength. It’s what they’re known for- strength and fortitude. But now they don’t look strong, twisting the ends of their hair and looking left and right almost fearfully, before taking a deep breath and looking you dead in the eyes. “Listen- I know you don’t exactly like- well, no, you hate him, but… Childe’s not doing well.” They trail off into ramblings about how he’s been in pain and distressed ever since the day you ran from the Golden House, sobbing and crying out your name, hiding in corners out of fear of everything around him. Childe. The Harbinger. Sobbing and in pain. You toss your head and roll your eyes in utter disbelief. “And why, exactly, should I care?” is your retort, as you steadily ignore the odd ache in your heart. The Traveler blinks, then shrugs sheepishly. “You shouldn’t, I guess. I know you feel pretty betrayed about it,” they flinch at your flat, unmoved gaze, “But I also know that you can help, and that you… like helping.” “That’s… true enough.” “So, can you come over, just this once? For Zhongli, if anything? Childe’s staying with him.” They flash you their most winning smile, trying to look past your exasperated expression and the downward twist of your mouth. Finally, you sigh and hoist your groceries over your shoulder. “Fine. Just once.” The walk to Zhongli’s home is quick and filled with too much chatter, the Traveler darting past people and pulling urgently on your hand, restless and impatient. You hadn’t even time to drop off your shopping at your own home, with the Traveler insisting that they’ll take care of everything. You suppose if they can deal with and defeat an ancient ocean god, they can handle taking your groceries to your house. You just wish your own task was as easy as theirs. They keep talking on and on about the past week or so- has it already been a week since you learned the truth?- how they just barely got Childe to Zhongli’s house before the Millelith reported to the scene; how the old god’s mouth fell open when they showed up at his door; how the Qixing have been trying to force the Fatui out of the Harbor, the lack of a present Harbinger weakening their ranks. Good. Let them leave. You hope they leave for good. Finally you’re yanked up onto a step, the door undecorated but heavily burnished. Zhongli’s home. You’ve been here many times for a cup of tea or a chat; you like to think that the Funeral Parlor Attendant thinks of you as a friend, although straight answers are hard to come by from someone like Zhongli. The Traveler pushes you towards the door, and you lift your hand and knock thrice. It swings open almost immediately, revealing Zhongli standing behind it. As usual, he’s impeccably dressed, but there’s an unfamiliar worry line between his brows. It diminishes slightly when he sees you and smiles, disappearing further when the Traveler shoos you inside and closes the door behind them as they run off to deliver your groceries. “I’m sorry,” You blink in surprise and look up at Zhongli, who has a worried look in his eyes, “I know this is difficult for you, but I thank you for offering your assistance anyways.” He guides you through his elegant abode, strides long and purposeful, and you simply shrug in response and look away, your own face stormy and distracted. Zhongli glances at you and chuckles quietly. Such curious beings, mortals are. You both stop in front of a room, tucked away in the furthest corners of the house. The door is plain and unassuming, much like the front door, but you notice with horror that the hardwood floor is littered with gashes and scratch marks. Zhongli hesitates, then puts a comforting hand on your shoulder.
“He’s not dangerous,” You have to bite your tongue to keep from scoffing, “But he’s… I’m not entirely sure how he’ll respond to you. I believe he wants you here, but…” He inhales, “Just try your best, alright?” You gulp. Sure, you’ll try your best if you can get over the sickening fear that still fills your head whenever you think of the Fatui. You feel Zhongli’s hand linger, flat on your back, then slide away as he turns and wanders down the hall, leaving you to your own devices and whatever lay beyond that door. Clenching your fist to keep it from shaking, you square your shoulders and turn the knob, easing open the door and slipping inside. There’s a quiet growl the moment you shut the door, and a shiver runs down your back as you slowly turn around. The room is dim, but not dark, and you can see an enormous figure in the corner, curled and hunched awkwardly so it can both see and be as far away from you as possible. You recognize the shape. The height. The horns. The glittery, star-dotted wings. The eye, staring at you, gleaming in the dim light. You just didn’t expect to see him like this today. Some of your fear falls away. Then it returns when you remember just who is under the creature you used to adore so dearly, and you back up until you hit the door and stumble. Neither of you move for a good five minutes, the air stagnant and heavy, almost hanging over your heads. It’s you who breaks the silence, clicking your tongue. “I didn’t think you were going to be… like this.” You remark, but to be honest, you should’ve seen it coming. The Traveler’s secrecy, Zhongli’s concern, the claw marks on the floor- you should’ve been able to connect the dots, and you curse yourself for being so blind. The creature- Childe- hunches over, the growl in his throat long gone. Instead, he lets out a soft whine, shying away from your pointed gaze. It’s a sound full of pain and sadness and a message, a message so prevalent that you’re certain it’s there, even if he can’t speak. “I’m sorry.” You don’t move, back still pressed up against the door, and Childe whimpers, hiding his face in his claws. There are wounds on his arms, relatively fresh and in the shape of talons, and he yelps when they stretch and sting. You stare, conflicting emotions swirling in your head as your nails dig into the wood of the door, so tense is your grip. And your silly, emotional, treacherous heart aches, just the same way it’s been doing for a week and beyond. The tension in your body fades, your posture relaxing and straightening as you listen to Childe’s muffled hiccups and sobs. A quiet sigh escapes you, one of weariness instead of exasperation, and you take a step closer towards him. A second and third step, and you’re halfway across the room. By your fifth, you’re standing directly next to Childe, close enough so you can reach out and gently touch his shoulder. He starts violently, then glances at you, eye wide and shining with tears. He turns away again, hugging himself tightly and attempting to silence his cries, before you fully settle your hand on his shoulder. You smile, crooked and ironic, when he shifts to look at you again. “You know, I thought I would be alright when I left. That I would just go back to my normal routine of work and sleep and not think about anything else. But for some reason, seeing you like this… hurts.” You laugh- it’s bitter yet sweet, and you laugh, “I don’t know why, but it makes me sad. I don’t want you to hurt like this.” Your smile grows a bit softer, along with your voice, “No matter how hard I try, I don’t think I dislike you as much.” Your voice catches on the end, and you absentmindedly wipe your eyes. “Why can’t I hate you anymore?” Childe stares, shocked at your words and tears and your biting, bittersweet smile. You’re not even trying to clear away your tears now, simply letting them roll down your cheeks and drip onto the floor. Your hand is hanging by your side, and slowly, cautiously, Childe reaches out to take it, carefully wrapping his claws around your delicate fingers. He feels you flinch in surprise, then relax when you realize it’s just him, turning so you can brush your hand beneath his eye and swipe away the tears. You stumble back when Childe suddenly pushes your arms out of the way and presses himself against your chest, talons hooked and clinging to your shirt. After a moment’s hesitation you slowly return his embrace, wrapping your arms around him and digging the tips of your fingers into his fluff while listening to a familiar purr fill the room, rusty but strong enough to almost lull you to sleep, if not for the knowledge that Zhongli would be waiting for you on the other side of the door. You pet Childe’s fluff, relishing the thick, soft fur as it passes through your fingers and runs across your hands. Childe rumbles louder, snuggling his head against your stomach and feeling his tears dry on his face. His heart beats again, stronger and more vibrant than ever, filling in and mending the broken cracks and crevices with rich, beautiful, glittering gold.
asterialquasar reblogged
imagine Childe wanting to serenade you, or at least sing for you, while he was still pining after you as a human. he has a decent enough singing voice- or at least, he can sing lullabies to his little siblings and send them right to sleep, so that counts for something. he’s not entirely sure what he wants to sing, but one song keeps popping up in his head, and he finds himself absentmindedly humming it while going about his day, including “walking you” to your job. you let him do it now. he likes to imagine that he’s growing on you, although some part of him knows that’s just wishful thinking. weeks later, Zhongli tells you to come to his house as quickly as possible. he won’t tell you why, exactly, but he’s a good friend and you trust him, so you drop by after work. the moment you step inside he whisks you down the hall, talking a mile a minute. something about a curse, the Abyss, and Childe. Childe. the Harbinger? the one who you’ve grown soft towards? Zhongli nods. he just needs you here for a bit, just to calm Childe down, that’s all. then, hopefully, you can be on your way- it’s just that Childe likes you best of all, you see? no, you don’t see. you’re confused. all you’ve managed to glean is that Childe, the Fatuus, is inside and hurting. and that’s all you get to know before Zhongli gently pushes you into a room. there’s nothing in there- nothing but a towering beast in the corner, with stars in its wings and a mask the color of crimson. it cowers, hunching away with a whimper, and the single streak of white in its otherwise ginger mane of hair makes you realize. Childe. this is what Zhongli meant by Childe- this monster is Childe, somehow, and your expression softens from fear to concern. you step closer, hands raised to show you have nothing, nothing to harm anyone, least of all your favorite Harbinger. a few more steps is all it takes for Childe to turn and flow into your arms with a choked sob, shaking with fear and horror. you wind your hands carefully through his lilac fluff, but no matter what you do, he won’t stop trembling, letting out little sniffs and whines. so you begin to sing. gentle humming at first that transitions into a full melody, and Childe freezes. then he buries his face into your shoulder, tears forming a damp patch on your shirt, but arms wrapped around you in a soft, desperate hug. it’s the song he would always hum throughout his days, performing duty after duty while dreaming of you in the few moments he had alone. you didn’t know its true purpose, how important it is to him. to you it bears no significance outside of a little tune you would hear while walking with him. and yet, still, you remember.
asterialquasar reblogged
you and Childe being old friends, with a favorite childhood song. it’s an old Snezhnayan lullaby, something simple but sweet and slightly melancholy, and it makes both of you think of home when you hear it. Childe, or Ajax, as you know him, went on to become a Harbinger, but you preferred to stay in Snezhnaya, wishing him the best of luck and saying you’ll write to him, wherever he is. and write you do, letter after letter; some long, some short, some with photos. you try to keep topics away from sadness and strife, because you know how much stress he has to deal with already. and Ajax responds, his familiar handwriting penned across sheets of paper, all signed “Ajax” and not “Tartaglia”. but recently he’s been silent. you write your letters, but receive no response, no indicator that he’s alright and alive. and you worry, the feeling sinking deep into your bones. you want to go looking for him, but who has the funds to go from your little town all the way to Liyue, his last place of operation? not you, and you do nothing but sit and worry and hum absentmindedly, that faint memory of a song that you both loved so much. until a letter finally arrives for you in the mail. it’s from the Harbor, on elegant paper and smelling of some unfamiliar flower, but it’s penned by a different hand and signed by someone called “Zhongli, Funeral Parlor Attendant”. your blood runs cold. Ajax… couldn’t have… no, you refuse to think about it. the letter urges you to come to the Harbor right away, as it’s been shipped with a reasonable sum of money, and no one ignores a letter from Liyue. Zhongli taps his foot, frowning thoughtfully. Childe certainly kept the knowledge of your existence under wraps, which was fair given his position- it was only when he had broken through the speechless Abyssal monster he currently was in his sleep to whisper your name, that Zhongli had gotten a clue. you must be able to help if you’re that important- or at least improve Childe’s condition so he’s not cowering in the corner of the room and screeching in fear. it’s peculiar, Zhongli muses, how Childe only brightened once, when the Attendant’s hand had brushed over an antique Zither he had purchased. it was only one note, but still Childe had lifted and tilted his horned head, listening for more with his one eye shining. and when nothing more came, he’d let out a mournful whine, full of longing and pain, like he was expecting someone else to be there.
asterialquasar reblogged
*waves hands* ok but what if somehow Childe and Foul Legacy get split into two beings. you and Childe are already together at this point and it happens in front of you, so when Childe realizes that his feral Abyssal form is now completely outside of his control he immediately rushes to protect you- he might not have his Foul Legacy form but he still has his Vision and Delusion. he tells you to stay back; Foul Legacy is dangerous and bestial, and Childe desperately doesn’t want you to get hurt, even if it means hurting what’s essentially a part of him.
except Foul Legacy doesn’t attack, doesn’t lash out, doesn’t make a single move to hurt you. no, he simply whines and backs into a corner, shaking at the sight of Childe’s hydro blades. Legacy’s gaze flicks to you and he takes a step closer, only to whimper when Childe puts his arm in front of you, glaring protectively at the Abyssal beast. you beg him to let you see Foul Legacy, this other power you’ve heard so much about, and finally he relents, still gripping his spear so tightly his knuckles turn white. your own steps are firm and confident as you extend a hand to Foul Legacy, who immediately leans into your palm and touch, crooning with relief. a smile breaks on your face as you coo back, running your fingers over his mask-like face and soft fluff. Foul Legacy purrs and trills happily at your attention, even daring to lick your hand a few times to be met with your laughter- it’s his favorite sound in the world, the laughter of his beloved. and Childe watches you interacting with his Abyssal half, petting and fawning over Foul Legacy like he’s Childe himself instead of a feral beast from unblinking stars, and Childe feels like a drop of light landed in his eyes again.
every single part of him really does love you, even the parts he wishes would remain hidden.
asterialquasar reblogged
This is a big, giant list of Youtube tutorials that will teach you all the basic life skills you need to know in order to be a functional adult. There are a lot of important skills that aren’t included in this list, but this should be enough of a basic guide to get you started and prevent you from making a total mess of yourself. Happy adulting! Household Skills:
Cooking Skills:
Health Skills:
Mental Health Skills:
Relationship and Social Skills:
Job Hunting Skills:
Other Skills:
If there’s ever anything you want that isn’t on this list…youtube it. Everyone always comments on my handiness, but everything I know comes from an old guy and his iphone.
asterialquasar reblogged
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.♥️
fitmaree
Can’t risk it
This is the Cassowary of Creativity
It just kicked the everloving shit out of the duck for threatening you, and wishes you a good, creative day. You are Safe Now.
this is the idea chicken
she lays an idea egg every day whether you use it or not
idea eggs will be plentiful for you because the world is a vast and fascinating source of ideas and you don’t need luck or blog voodoo to have them for breakfast every morning
Now I want to reblog this post due to the great pictures below. Kick ass, my feathered friend.
Blessed be the Cassowary. Shine on, my Jurassic friend.
22ndcenturyschizoidman
Shine on, you crazy diamond.
egg-giver
shine on, jurassic reject
asterialquasar reblogged
asterialquasar reblogged
so today on stream foolish was sent a folder of letters and fanart from children in the hospital by one of his chat members who worked with them in the pediatric unit during the height of the pandemic and i think it’s easy for us to forget the actual impact these streamers have on people but listening to these kids messages just made me so emotional and happy !!!!!!
a lot of these children weren’t able to see their family or even have visitors and the worker talked about how watching his streams was sometimes the only thing that could make the kids smile that day and all of the kids commented on how kind and funny foolish was and how they loved to dance along with him whenever he played the shift song and it’s just so incredibly sweet because a lot of people can and will try to write off minecraft streamers and streamers in general but it’s like it doesn’t matter if it doesn’t bring you joy cause somewhere out there is someone who appreciates and loves the content and idk it was just a really wholesome moment and i can’t even describe how happy i am that foolish has this type of platform to spread so much positivity into the world :’)
asterialquasar reblogged
hehe sword skord
asterialquasar reblogged
norman reedus and his son mingus dont look related at all
this looks like matty b raps took a blind homeless man to a basketball game instead of a nice family photo
fuck you thats not his name
what do i have to gain by lying on this site? what the fuck is in it for me? fame? fortune? clout? meaningless distractions. there is no pleasure greater than the knowledge of mingus lucien reedus’ true name. and as i have suffered to gain this, so too shall you all. live as a flagellant and bleed in his name. our lord, mingus.
The Reedus family’s cat also has a weird ass name but the story is so cute and Norman is a great father omg
when-in-doubt-sing
Chaotic good
asterialquasar reblogged
Milf and dilf duo
You’ll be the milf and I’ll be the dilf
Alright, I'm down
asterialquasar reblogged
fic idea where after months since the chain started their adventure, they finally get back to Sky's era and Sun very not-so-subtley checks Sky over bc during skyward sword he barely took care of himself while on the surface and survived almost entirely on health and stamina potions for days on end. he ended up losing a lot of weight being too unwilling or anxious to eat or sleep because Fi I can't waste time on that when I could be finding Zelda. I can't be late again I have to keep going. Sky reassuring her that the other heroes have taken good care of him even though they aren't sure what exactly he means, Sky eventually opening up about that aspect of his adventure n getting the blessed comfort he deserves
asterialquasar reblogged
ousia-poetica
Do souls need eyes to look at each other?
asterialquasar reblogged
