hello! i was wondering if you are ever going to finish "all the things we have gained"? i am an avid fanfiction reader and writer. kuroko no basuke was one of the first series i got into when i was very young and when i say that your fic is one of the best i have read, i am being completely honest. it would mean alot to me if you are able to respond. if you ever decide to continue it, i will wait no matter how long it takes. :)
Hello. It took me a while to answer this since I have been off from Tumblr for a bit and then I came back and then I didn't know how to answer.
That fic is one of my favourites of all times. I had a wonderful grand time writing it, and it is close to my soul. I got stuck and didn't continue because of circumstances from the outside world taking more time. But the real issue was that it was incredibly hard to keep motivated. Incredibly so with almost no feedback from readers or friends since none of my friends are in knb and so on. It felt like I was putting my heart out there and that it didn't matter and that I didn't have time, so I guess my writing time dwindled.
I never considered I fully giving up on it. I wish that I could have the strength to pull through and finish it. It's one of my most personal and special fics so no, it isn't abandoned. I do wish to come back to it at some point and continue it.
Hope this helps? Thank you for the support! I honestly didn't know anyone else was still reading it hehe. Thank you for reading and I will try at some point to finish it. If you want to chat me about leave a comment or find me on discord with my user ID 256208665315377152 or with my username deyanirasan.
In a different world, after the Archon War, after the destruction and banishment of Khaeneri'ah, Fontaine closed their borders, the Hydro Archon going into hiding and refusing to bestow anymore Hydro Visions on anyone leaving the continent unbalanced. In the centuries after the Cataclysm, Hydro users have become a rare and indispensable resource for everyone due to the intrinsic healing abilities every Hydro user naturally possessed. That meant that the few Hydro users remaining naturally became Healers, a blessing for the Nation they were born in.
Childe was not an exception for the rule.
Despite having fallen in the Abyss, and despite his combat orientated preferences, Childe became a Snezhnaya's greatest Healer and their most prised possession, able to heal almost any ailments under the Tsaritsa's direct orders. But all changes when despite having sheltered him his whole life, the Tsaritsa sends Childe with a political envoy to Liyue to offer his services to the Geo Archon and his court. Excited and ready to prove himself, the last thing Childe expects is to find what an important figure for the Liyuean nation his patient is.
It has been a long while since I wrote for the owari fandom. Ngl this is the sweetest ask I have gotten, so I will consider it! It took me a while to see it because the blog hasn't been active in some time but I am really considering writing a small tidbit that's post my fic - especially since the tragedy at 16 manga has been doing a great job of giving me the feels.
I will consider writing it as time permits it as I am currently incredibly busy with uni but I will post at least a small snippet at some point on here if not a full chapter.
Thank you so much for the love and support this has made my day ;_;
I have officially been dragged in the Genshin and Zhongli x Childe fandom lol.
Summary:Â In a different world, after the Archon War, after the destruction and banishment of Khaeneri'ah, Fontaine closed their borders, the Hydro Archon going into hiding and refusing to bestow anymore Hydro Visions on anyone leaving the continent unbalanced. In the centuries after the Cataclysm, Hydro users have become a rare and indispensable resource for everyone due to the intrinsic healing abilities every Hydro user naturally possessed. That meant that the few Hydro users remaining naturally became Healers, a blessing for the Nation they were born in.
Childe was not an exception for the rule.
Despite having fallen in the Abyss, and despite his combat orientated preferences, Childe became a Snezhnaya's greatest Healer and their most prised possession, able to heal almost any ailments under the Tsaritsa's direct orders. But all changes when despite having sheltered him his whole life, the Tsaritsa sends Childe with a political envoy to Liyue to offer his services to the Geo Archon and his court. Excited and ready to prove himself, the last thing Childe expects is to find what an important figure for the Liyuean nation his patient is.
Chapter 1
The first thing Childe thought upon debarking from the boat at the main Liyue port was that was way too hot. His Snezhnayan attire had been sticking to his body uncomfortably before, being underneath the sun's direct glare, but now a trickle of sweat was gliding down his spine with the same slowness that dread filled his gut upon laying eyes on the welcoming escort waiting on the docks. To avoid watching way too curious eyes, he looked up, but due to the strong glare of the sun he only put his hand up to shade his eyes. He had never felt more alienated from home.
The Tsaritsa had personally ordered him to go on his mission, he reminded himself, as Ekaterina, a lower level officer in the Fatui and the unofficial guide for his trip, passed by him to greet up some Liyuan nobles that did not stop ogling him. With a sigh, he turned around and gazed at the ocean that separated him from everything that had been familiar. As a Healer he had never been allowed to travel on the front lines or fight beyond his regular support integration formations for heavy Fatui battles. He should have been jumping with joy. Had been, initially, at the opportunity to finally prove himself beyond the role his Vision gave him. Instead, in a foreign land with foreign people looking at him he felt compelled to leave, the push and pull of the ocean waves a resonating call grabbing at the string of his soul.
Unthinkably, with one hand he pulled the sweat off skin, the droplets floating into air before coalescing together in a small stream that he quickly disposed off in the ocean water. Gasps followed his action, and he turned around to see the people no longer at looking at Ekaterina, but whispering and pointing towards him, frantic words and excitable hands gesturing towards him. The sigh deepened. He hadn't even properly stepped foot on the Liyuean lands, but some uncomfortable familiarity followed their agitation. Ekaterina met his eyes over the excitement of the crowd and he simply met her helpless shrug with one of his own. He couldn't blame them at feeling so vivacious at seeing a renowned Hydro user.
The ocean sung behind him, the foamy waves inviting and resonating with something akin to a living siren compared to the dry lands he was meant to walk upon, their power calling, pulling at the Vision on his belt painfully so. He wanted to respond to the call of his element. Instead he stepped off the boat.
The trip already seemed more bothersome than intended.
-///-
For centuries, Fontaine had closed their borders, the Hydro Archon ceasing from granting Hydro Visions to outsiders. It had put the world on a halt, creating a crisis no one had truly prepared for before the complete lockdown. From what Childe understood, long ago Hydro users had been not unlike all elemental users, but their rarity made the need for them a gaping requirement, especially in the healing department.
It was no secret that Hydro on its own as an element was not as strong as the sparkle of flames or the glare of lightening, but with all Hydro users disappearing, the moment one appeared due to their particular affinity towards healing they had slowly shifted into becoming full elemental support to their communities.
When growing up no one had even seen a Hydro Vision or heard of someone seeing one. Long ago, Childe might have been happier with his place in the world. Long ago, his world hadn't been shattered.
He always felt there was a bitter irony lost in translation when one angry child killer had received a Vision meant to be used to save the lives of others.
-///-
The Tsaritsa took him in, when normally he should have been executed. Nothing from the Abyss was allowed to live. It was the upstanding rule of Tevyat. Instead she took in a bloodied stray and bent nature against her will to make a Healer out of him. When at his most bitter Childe wondered how much of that had been her good will or the fact that the Land of Frozen Cold had never been particularly blessed with Hydro users, something between the Tsaritsa's rule and the nature of her own Cryo Vision intervening with the whole process.
Childe looked into golden eyes, warm, burning and just slightly painfully unyielding of the Geo Archon, and wondered what the Oldest of the Seven would also sense from him.
Want from him.
The blue hanging brightly at his waist guaranteed that there would not ever be a moment of peace in Childe's life.
"Rise," the Geo Archon commanded, his voice deep, yet soothing, and Childe could not feel any clear animosity in his words. That was good. The Tsaritsa had told him to come as part of a diplomatic envoy of International Relations, partial details only disclosed upon his arrival. When he rose, his head was kept slightly bowed, his eyes averted as he introduced himself. Even with the goddess of his own region, no matter their close relationship he had never been able to skirt around etiquette, nevertheless invoke the wrath of someone he had slowly learned to fear.
"My sincerest gratitude for the welcome party, Your Majesty," he politely started. Demure, controlled, smooth. Words and manners that had long been drilled into him flowing like water out from his lips. "My name is Tartaglia, 11th of the Fatui Harbingers, here to serve you at the ordered of the Tsaritsa.
His words were met with silence, a pause in the flow enough for him to raise his eyes up to scan the throne room. As an outsider, and considering his status, his welcome was in front of many officials of the Liyue court, although his eyes zoned into the slight twitch of the green haired guard at the side of the throne. His fingers fidgeted in response, almost unconsciously at the slight tension of the other, and the gaping hole inside him opened its maw, awoken by his apprehension, yearning hungrily, demanding, craving.
The pause lasted a few seconds before he saw the Archon nod and therefore, relaxed his posture to raise his eyes and meet molten gold once more. He didnât know what he had done wrong, Childe rarely felt wrong footed, but he didnât move his gaze from the man enveloped in golden robes depicting dragons. He might have been wrong footed, but he rarely felt really afraid, something the Tsaritsa had instilled with blood and tears into his uncaring soul.
Without blinking, the thought entered his mind arrogantly. 'I have had worse,' he thought his eyes measuring and curious of the archaic lord judging him on the seat of his nation.
But Morax only gave a slight incline of his head, his words resonating throughout the court as to be heard far and wide.
"Then, I welcome you into my court."
-///-
As a child, one of his last poignant memories of his old life had been how blue the sky looked as he was falling in the dark maw spawned through the edges of the world ready to swallow him up. Everything else had afterwards been muddled up by the Abyss and it's gruesome touch.
In his dreams the blue of the sky sometimes overlapped with the burning blue of his vision, swallowing him in the twilight light that never got brighter of the Abyss, swallowing him up, choking him...
Childe woke up with a jolt. Since coming to Liyue his nightmares have gotten stronger, more poignant. The sheets were sticky with sweat, clinging to him, trapping him, and with a frustrating groan Childe waved his hand forcefully, the water spraying away from his body, leaving him cool and panting in the darkness of the room. It was before twilight, the first light breaking through the sky, making Childe avert his eyes ,his stomach giving an uncomfortable churn at the colour.
With decisive steps, he left his room, his eyes blindly taking him away from the room where his demons lay in waiting until he was outside, in an inner courtyard of the Royal Palace, dust sticking to his feet and breaths loud in the still air of the morning. In front of him, down several rolling hills, the rest of the buildings of the Palace lay still, servants about to stir to life, the central building towering even from afar. He had been offered a guest house in the premises of the Palace, though house was a loose word for a small mansion that housed him and several other Snezhnayan diplomats as part of his envoy.
Ekaterina had briefed him as soon as the meeting with Morax had ended. The socio-economic trade routes have suffered in the last quarter, but the main issue was the tensions rising between Her Majesty and Morax. Recently the two have had an increased, quite avid correspondence which had resulted in Childe being sent to the Court as an infiltrator to establish Her Will as one of the Eleven.
The thought made him laugh, his hands clenching at his sides. It had been an honour, he had been delighted even when it was first brought up for him to join as one of Her Eleven. An honour he will never outgrow, the youngest, the Healer, unwilling and incapable of advancing in ranks to any other position. It was not his lack of experience or ambition that had made this visit Childe's first mission outside the borders of his home country. Even with the Tsaritsa's loose hands around his neck, he was still a prized Healer, their most important Healer, a possession to be prized and rarely be seen least he might disappear from anyone's grasp. Even if he had been allowed crumbs of freedom and of combat training in order to satisfy the need itching in his veins, the Tsaritsa had fully disapproved of all his cutting edges, trying to smother them with ice into an unfeeling numbness.
It was moments like this when the light of the day shone just a barely visible blue light, giving the world an eerie distorted feeling, that the itch in his veins burned with memories of pain, of excruciating fatigue and of agony; losing life force, bathing in blood, making others - creatures - bleed, memories that made the gnawing emptiness inside screamed to be filled.
His hand familiarly at his side closed in a loose fist, the inside of his palm ready to feel the hilt of a water blade he was not allowed to make, the Vision at his side throbbing with the need to let free with every thundering beat of his heart-
"Are you alright?"
The strange voice broke through the muddled waters of his brain, shattering the bloodlust coursing through his veins and muffling his senses. In the same second as those words were said, Childe spun around, only to be met with the same green haired guard he had seen before at the side of Morax. Immediately, his training kicked in and all the tension drained out of his body, a feeble smile coming to his lips to greet the unwelcome visitor.
"Yes, I-I'm sorry, I didn't see you there. I had come out to take some air." He let himself stutter, his body automatically switching from barely contained need for violence to a comfortable routine. The first weeks out of the Abyss he had never been able to come out of the bloodlust that followed him like a second skin, everything sending him into a state of hyper vigilance. Everything had made the edge worse, and he had had to slowly learn to reclaim his humanity and personality back from the hole of fear where it had been dug into. There was always a part of him wondering if his politeness was simply learned play pretend to interact with others, especially when coming down from an attack. The shorter man's yellow eyes never leaving his face didn't set him at ease, and Childe was tired and wished just for one night of proper rest.
"You were panting," the other finally commented, when the silence had become completely unbearable. He wondered if this was a Liyue custom he would have to painfully get used to, these poignant breaks that were made to make him squirm.
"Ah, yes...," Childe numbly agreed, realising how irregular his breaths were under the coil of tension in his chest. "I had a nightmare," he confessed, softly squashing the slight embarrassment of the admission. Besides anything else but the truth might raise more questions.
The guard nodded sagely as if he understood. For all he knew, Childe thought, maybe he did to some extent, those yellow eyes seeing into him in a way that rose his hackles and wanted to bring words to his lips he would normally abstain from saying.
"Is there anything I can help you with?" he simply added when the other seemed content with watching him silently for the second time. He understood Liyue hadn't seen a Hydro user in ages, but the whole spiel was slowly becoming tiresome.
"I will send for tea to the kitchen," the guard said simply in the end, before vanishing in the blink of an eye between one breath or the other.
Childe looked at the empty scenery, wondering if he had even spoken to the man in the first place. Later on, as he was having breakfast, an extra pot of tea was brought besides his regular meal, so Childe had to assume he had not talked to a figment of his imagination, and set up to learn that guard's name. At the same time he drank the offered tea. It was oddly soothing.
-///-
He was sitting in a meeting with the other diplomats and the Qixing. Ekaterina had taken control of the conversation as soon as it started, and Childe bit his tongue as to not talk over her and belittle his own people in front of unfamiliar nobility. Even as the local international expert, she had the obligation in rank and seniority to defer to him, and his fingers twisted in his gloves with anger he let go off until a later time when he would make it very clear that he was the Snezhnayan main delegate until further notice, his usual tasks notwithstanding.
In front of Lady Ningguang's scrutiny he simply relaxed in the chair as if he had planned this beforehand and had chosen to sit out on this first talk. He would rather appear rude than weak. Uninvited, he thought how anyone else would have reacted to Scaramouche's presence instead of his, and the familiar pungent smell of lightening and burning flesh entered his nose. He had treated many of Scaramouche's subordinates that have had the fortune to survive disrespecting him.
The meeting was pretty boring, but he mentally made some notes of actual policies that needed revising and revisiting between the two nations. Still, his mind was both blanking out and running in circles, several thoughts grasping for his attention towards a conclusion he didn't particularly like.
Why would the Tsaritsa send their national Healer, beyond a very excessive show of good will on a diplomatic mission that seemed to be well handled before his absence. And not that he could not intervene, but Ekaterina and her assistant Vlad, along with several Northland Bank employees seemed like a well oiled machinery. Moreover, usually for the finer political machinations Pulcinella would have been sent if absolutely needed. Not that he wasn't glad to be outside his home country for once, but he had not been given any reason to see the purpose of his being here, even a week into his visit to Liyue. Most of his time had been spent aimlessly wandering around the grand palace with poorly concealed guards trailing behind him.
The current Yunheng kept shooting him looks as she never broke her pace writing down, the meeting halfway into an argument over old trade routes that definitely didn't need revising, when the door opened.
On the outside Childe kept his sprawled demeanour, his head still kept up by his hand, as Xiao entered and interrupted the meeting. Without a proper explanation, he simply nodded to the Tianquan, which made her drop her papers and rise up in an unspoken cue just in time for Morax to enter the room.
The previously atmosphere, light by no means, vanished completely, most people standing to attention. Reluctantly, Childe also straightened, his eyes fixing themselves on Morax.
He looked different dressed in an elegant suit. Less imposing than in royal attire, his hair neatly tied in a ponytail at his back, his piercing eyes framed with the same pigment that matched the burning intensity of his eyes. There was something slightly ethereal that Childe recognised in his posture even though the movements were slightly different from his own Archon's, the flow of his limbs assured and yet tightly contained with power.
"My apologies for interrupting your meeting, Ningguang," he spoke, his voice soft yet deep. He didn't know why but his words felt almost electric in that tone of voice, soft yet no less powerful than the icy command of the Tsaritsa.
"That is no issue... Rex Lapis," and Childe noted just the slight movement of his mouth, a barely there smile at how she addressed him. "What can we help you with?" It was a question, but it also seemed a closed statement. Childe felt like the meeting was going to become incredibly interesting very soon.
Morax's eyes swept over the room, over the Snezhnayan diplomats, over his own lording council, before he gave a nod and one command.
"Leave."
Everyone gathered their items at once. Childe sighed. Here went any entertainment. Besides the initial welcome he had not seen the other Archon and he had been curious about this soft spoken man with the renown of a fierce and bloodthirsty killer. A personal curiosity if you may. He was gathering his own empty papers, ready to stand up and leave, when Morax's eyes settled on him.
"No, you stay," he simply stated, and Childe felt just the slight annoyance at being ordered around, but Morax was already sitting down at the head of the table, Ningguang and Xiao at his sides.
Ekaterina hesitated for one moment when Childe went to sit back down, to which he shook his head. In Snezhnaya it always a rule that a healer shouldn't be left alone, especially with non-Fatui. Thankfully, she understood the message and quietly left, leaving Childe with gritted teeth and three sets of golden eyes scrutinising him across the table. At the same time, his previous thoughts started nagging with an uneasy feeling in their wake.
"I assume this was for us to get to talk in private," Childe decided to say before another Liyuean silence could take over. "So what could I help you with, Your Majesty?"
The smile on his face turned just a tinge smug when Xiao's hands twitched at his sides. He was slowly starting to gather that the man was incredibly protective over his master, physically as well as emotionally. And although not disrespectful, he doubted he was showing the right appreciation for the Geo Archon.
To his surprise Morax chuckled, a deep rich sound full of genuine amusement.
"No need for such formalities," he denounced the title. "I don't know if even in prime years, I was called by such a respectful title."
"You're right, you were called by much grander titles than this," Xiao muttered, to which Zhongli only seemed to sigh indulgently before chastising.
"At ease, Alatus. No need to raise your guard up between allies."
Childe noted this warm exchange, but despite the less imposing figure Morax seemed to cut outside his throne room, and interacting with his loyal bodyguard, an unease was starting to form in his gut.
"So how should I call someone that wants something from me," he interrupted, and Xiao's slight smile vanished with the reminder of the enemy in the room, his face turning blank once again. Ningguang simply blinked, her eyes on Morax, clearly waiting for his decision.
"How about Zhongli," Morax offered, and Childe almost barked out an unbefitting puff of laughter that was nowhere near amused. It seemed preposperous to call One of the Seven by such a personal name.
Instead he sighed, the picture starting to clear up slowly, the questions that have haunted the boredom dragging along his heels whilst exploring this new yet so foreign country finally starting to shape up.
It always came down to this in the end. Childe was surprised by his own disappointment.
"So who needs healing so desperately that I was sent all the way here?" he asked. Ningguang seemed ready to step in to intervene, but Zhongli spoke before she could either confirm or deny his statement, piercing eyes burning into his with the power of divinity behind his words.
"I do."
-///-
The words took seconds to penetrate deep into Childe's conscious brain, until all his synapses made sense of the sounds he heard enough to assign meaning. And when they did, he could only come up with one response.
"Is this a fucking joke?" he asked calmly, but with all the seriousness of cold dread melting into his body all the way to his fingers.
Ningguang seemed somewhere between bewildered and amused and his sudden lack of polite speech, whilst Xiao seemed to choke on several responses trying to come up with one out fast enough.
"I- You-" he started clearly not sure where to start to insult him back, before Zhongli cut him off with a raised palm, before resting his head on his intertwined fists.
"I assure you this is not, by any means a joke," Zhongli, started his eyes set on Childe's once more. "The Tsaritsa and I have come to an agreement," he explained simply, the sentence hitting Childe like a full blown punch to his chest, the winds knocked out of him.
"A contract, you mean," he clarified numbly, but he needed to see Zhongli confirm it. The other god simply looked upon him with curious, detached interest before nodding. A part of Childe wondered what sort of face he was making feeling the illusion of freedom he was granted being shattered to a million pieces.
Realistically, he knew there was no way he would refuse this, contract or not contract with the actual God of Contracts. Everyone knew of the Wrath of the Rock, and no contract made in Liyue could ever be broken, never mind one with the god of them himself. But a part of Childe was bubbling up slowly with barely contained fury, anger and helplessness fighting for dominance as he clenched his teeth least he create a real diplomatic incident.
It was not fair. He knew he was a Healer. He knew he will never be anything else but a Healer in the eyes of all of Tevyat for as long as his Hydro Vision was attached to him. He was too important to be anything else, but he never have felt like he had ever had a choice in making this decision. From the moment he had fallen into the Abyss, he had lost all lack of choice whether he had escaped that place or not. He didn't dislike being a Healer per se, it was a necessary role, a honourable position to have and hold, but he had always craved for more, from his barely contained violent urges to the energy bubbling under the surface.
And the Tsaritsa knew that. She knew better than everyone Childe's wish to prove himself as something more than a Healer, to break the confinement of his set position in life, and he had thought that she finally given him the option to do more. Be something more.
And she had sent him here on a false sense of hope that was slowly crashing down into a painful realisation. He had never been meant to do anything else but what he had always been assigned to do.
It hurt.
Childe wasn't dumb enough to believe he could refuse. He didn't want to refuse if Morax was in need of help enough to trade with the Tsaritsa. But he was feeling trapped, and petty and maybe just slightly mean at having been lied so cruelly just to have been snuffed out of an opportunity he had never been offered. He wanted to scream, he wanted to fight these people that really didn't fully deserve his anger.
Instead he laughed.
The reaction seemed to startle everyone, but his eyes never left Morax's. Glaring into those mysterious golden eyes, it was one of the few times he actually felt dislike towards the woman that had both sheltered and caged him for so many years for springing this on him with no warning.
"Okay, so let me get this straight, the God of Liyue himself is so injured that he requires my help. Why hasn't the Tsaritsa informed me of this upon leaving Snezhnaya, and why haven't either of you informed me of this as soon as I arrived to start fixing this?" he asked archly. He was not playing games. The gods might think he was a useful asset to be passed around but by the gods, if he wasn't going to make this unnecessarily harder for everyone.
"We had given you time to accommodate with your surroundings," the Tianquan diplomatically answered. "The cultural differences might have been a shock for everyone involved, so we gave you some time to acclimate to our country."
A perfectly balanced answer that left more questions still unanswered. Childe's smile was unwillingly sharp as he responded.
"So you plan on keeping me long term here?" When no one answered, his eyes narrowed dangerously. His gaze was drawn again to Zhongli's eyes that were watching him with an unidentified emotion.
"Cut the crap." His words were cold and both Ningguang and Xiao tensed at Zhongli's side to his frosty tone. But Childe was angry, a sense of sinking helplessness sucking him in, a spiral of duty and reluctant yearning for something else, an escape. "You brought me here under false pretences and entertained this ruse. Tell me what I am here for," he said glaring at Ningguang who seemed slightly guilty at her earlier omission. "I am not playing games, what is the nature of injury and what has caused it, Morax."
Part of him, the tightly wound up part of self preservation was screaming at him to stop, as Zhongli seemed to glare back just for a second before his eyes settled back to their calculated neutrality. It riled up Childe more, though the other simply raised a hand to the side in an unknown gesture. Xiao apparently knew what it meant as he rushed to the corner of the lavish meeting room, and opened several panels clearly taking a tea set out and preparing to make a fresh brew.
The silence was stifling and Childe concentrated on the feeling of his own blood rushing through his veins to avoid yelling at someone. Only when the tea was served and Morax took a sip of it and hummed in approval did he deem Childe with another look and willingness to answer.
Childe blocked the thought in his mind that he could form a Hydro dagger at any point in time.
"The nature of the injury is rather complex. We have first tried to contain it with Liyue Adepti arts specialised in medicine as none of the humans doctors would not know what to do in this case. It directly affects my elemental core, turning my own energy against myself. As the Prime Adeptus and the Geo Archon, we have underestimated at first how dire the situation could become as we didn't consider the amount of elemental energy I possesses." Morax's voice was calm, almost pacifying and it was detailed enough to prickle at Childe's clinical curiosity. But his other question was still unanswered, so he simply raised one expecting eyebrow.
For one second, he thought he saw Morax begin to smile, but the action was once more covered with a controlled sip of the tea. He wondered if they were doing this to particularly sap at his nerves.
"As for the origin of the injury⊠I am afraid I cannot say," he stated simply, the sentence calm in a way that announced the end of the subject.
Childe felt the physical need to restrain himself from jumping across the table to pour the leftover tea Morax's perfect made up face. His mouth opened and closed in a series of aborted attempts to yell when the other's pointed look finally registered to his mind. Although relaxed and sipping his tea, Morax was looking at him intently as if trying to convey something beyond his dismissive words. The display of emotion was odd enough to make Childe settle and think.
"Why hasn't the Tsaritsa told me all of this before coming to Liyue," he asked on a wild hunch.
"I am afraid beyond trying to avoid such an outburst in your part, I also cannot say anything about that either," Morax stated in such a way that made Childe feel defensive and scolded at the same time. Yet, Childe had the idea he understood what was happening here more or less.
"What is the nature of your contract with the Tsaritsa," he asked point blank, and this time he didn't imagine the smile that Morax sent him across the conference table.
"I am afraid I cannot say," he answered clearly, and somewhat smugly, and the situation was already giving Childe a headache to last for the week.
"So let me get this straight, you made a contract with the Tsaritsa with undisclosed clauses where nothing within your agreement and pertaining to it can be disclosed to anyone else beyond what's necessary? And I am bound to honour that agreement in her stead?"
Morax didn't answer but Ningguang at his side gave a smile and nodded apologetically.
"More or less something around those lines," she confirmed. He wondered how privy she was herself to these clauses of this contract.
Childe sighed. He was trapped, and the bitter feeling of betrayal was still churning in his gut. In the end he was nothing more or less but Tsaritsa's prized healer on a mission. Yet, despite not being her fault he felt petty still, wrong footed and utterly disappointed once more.
"There is simply one problem with this whole situation," he pointed out.
"And what that may be?" Morax asked clearly intrigued for a moment by a mere mortal criticising his craft. That emotion vanished quickly at Childe's next word.
"This contract is right, on all accounts but one," he started slowly, his words sweet and frosty in a way that reminded him uncomfortably of Scaramouche. "This contract has been made with the Tsaritsa herself and not me."
-///-
The atmosphere felt frostier than the iciest tip of the mountain towering behind the Zapolyarny Palace, and if Childe had wished to rile up Morax with his antics he had more than achieved his goals. If looks could kill Childe had no doubt, Morax's was equivalent to a sharp blade cutting into his jugular. He should be afraid, he should probably apologise. A part of him was screaming at him to stop whilst still ahead, to bow down and be good, do his duty, help the other Archon and return home as it was expected of him.
That part was slowly muffled by the sheer rush of excitement he felt coursing through his veins, the utter debauched feeling of adrenaline taking control as he faced a danger he was normally sheltered from. And another part of him sighed with relief at the wild feeling of provocation, the grin stretching over his lips entirely too satisfied for the tense situation.
No one spoke for a few seconds then both Ningguang and Xiao started two different sentences at once, words jumbling over another but Morax's voice covered both of theirs.
"Are you meant to say that the Tsaritsa will not uphold her end of the bargain?" The words were a throaty grumbly, reminiscent of an avalanche and utterly lethal.
"Au contrair," Childe mocked in the language of Fontaine that had slowly been forgotten to the times, few phrases remaining. "I think her end of her bargain is upheld. I am here in Liyue, aren't I. Unless you mean to tell me the contract was to force me to serve you?"
The silence was telling, Morax glaring at him. Everyone knew the Liyue contracts were fair, and Childe's answering grin to other's glower was victorious. Never mind the fact he simply doubted anyone in their right mind would use force against a Hydro user. Everyone was too terrified to lose them to ever think of forceful methods.
"What are you saying," Morax said slowly, his lack of disagreement confirming the Tsaritsa had not in fact sold him to another nation without his consent, as little as that mattered for now.
"I am saying that it is unfair to expect me to heal you with nothing in return," he stated, clearly, slowly, exhilaration burning in his veins. He felt unhinged, as if the words were compelled out of his mouth with every ounce of pressure that built in the room due to the very angry Archon glaring at him. He was high on adrenaline and his hands were itching and his mind was running with no concrete end in sight, and it had been years since he had felt more alive.
The suggestion seemed to settle Zhongli just as Xiao burst out with anger.
"Preposterous! You ungrateful mortal-"
"Quiet," Zhongli ordered, although Ningguang seemed just as displeased. Petty satisfaction made Childe giddy - he was a Healer. He had been proposed to be a Healer at 8 years old. He had been taught how demure Healers acted, empathy and care at the core of their training. It was amazing to finally see how people would react to him breaking out of this constricting role. It felt like vengeance.
"And what would you want me to offer you?" Morax asked calmer, though his eyes were burning into Childeâs with something unnamed. He had no plan. He never knew he would even get this far with his bluff, only acting on anger and trying to escape the disappointment eroding his veins. Therefore, his next words shocked him just as much as everyone else in the room.
"I want a Geo Vision."
Stunned silence met his request. Ningguang surprisingly moved first, her hand grabbing Xiao's shoulder, probably to prevent the other to from jumping across the table to throttle Childe. He didn't pay any mind to that. His eyes were staring at Morax, and it was just because of their intent staring match that he was able to observe the rapid change in his eyes, his pupil switching from round to an oval snake like slit and back again.
If looks could kill Childe felt he would have dropped dead. It was exhilarating.
His heart was pounding almost faster than the beats of war drums in his ears, sweat breaking out uncomfortably underneath his Fatui uniform, and his eyes were watching Morax, challenging him⊠it didn't matter to what exactly. He hadn't even know why he had chosen a Geo Vision, but as a reward it made sense as well as any other if he could have the favour of a god. It didn't matter, only the excitement burning through him purifying the disappointment with the bittersweet taste of revenge.
"I don't think that was a good joke on your part, Harbinger," Ningguang intervened, her hand still tightly clasped against a very, very still Xiao, either grounding him or restraining him.
"It was not a joke," Childe said deciding to commit to the sudden impulse, though bizarre. "It is not much that I can obtain by working underneath my own Archon, I am beyond used and bored to riches and the finest of this world. A Vision? That could be something interesting and quite useful to possess."
"You already have a Vision," Xiao spat. "You are a Hydro user, how could you even begin to-" He was cut off by Morax straightening his fingers on the table. Immediately Xiao stepped back, and Childe watched in surprise as the Archon moved controlled hands to unclench from underneath his eyes and simply rest on the edge of the table. Then he spoke.
"In all my years alive I don't think I have ever heard a bigger abomination asked of me from a mortal," he started, the voice imperial with an reverberation that spoke of crumbling mountains and barely suppressed power. Everyone jolted when the table between Morax's hands cracked as he applied pressure. "Tell me," he asked softly, "what had gone through your mind when you have made just a preposterous request."
And Childe wanted to laugh and say that nothing at all. He wanted to take it back that there was no need for him to want a Geo Vision at all, it was all a bad ruse and attempt at revenge for being cornered in such a situation with no little input to be used for a skillset that he both loved and was shackled by. He wanted to say he would give anything to have any other Vision than the one currently hanging at his side. But all of those answers were too raw and to close to the problem for him to be able to come out and say it.
"Aw, and here I have thought you liked me enough to actually agree to give me one," he mocked with no concern. The words were liberating, just like jumping off a cliff into the Abyss and hoping the nothingness that lay in shadow at lower levels to eventually catch you. It was so freeing to give in to his anger for once, even if they were the wrong people and the wrong circumstances.
No one reacted for a second, and then suddenly several things happened all at once. Ningguang went from holding Xiao's should to pulling and twisting his arm behind, immobilising the shorter warrior to the table with her elbow pressing on his spine just as he was about to jump and possibly stab Childe. At the same time, he hadn't expected Morax to grab the spoon next to his tea cup, and in one press of his thumb broke the top part to clatter away on the floor, leaving behind a zagged handle with a sharp edge. And in the same movement, Morax was across the room pinning Childe down with his knee to his chest to the chair, the jagged and crude weapon harshly and very poignantly pressed to his fluttering carotid.
"I should kill you for the mockery you make of my court," Morax said softly, his face so close that Childe could smell him, feel his heat and burn under the anger shining in those eyes.
But his mind was elsewhere, a battlefield caught under stellar light from a never changing sky, to abominations yanking at his feet as Heralds of the Abyss screamed commands of murder and torture in the shrill screams that made up their language. He thought of mountains of corpses moist from rivulets of blood, kills of his own making and by his own sword, only half of them for survival. He thought of the pockets of emptiness that existed in some abyssal holes, nothingness put into being, and wondering if they could offer salvation.
He could never be afraid of Morax, no matter how fearsome or how choking the waves of power that he emanated felt, as if he could be squashed before he could even finish his last breath. So, with a grin, he pressed into the blade, a trickle of blood flowing out of the superficial wound and asked for the first honest thing he had said the whole meeting.
"Then do it." They remained still in an impasse, the world slowly muffling to nothingness under Morax's intense glare. And Childe met it head on with a smile, his chest also panting with no real effort to it, his hands itching for the first sign that this could break into a fight. His senses were filled with Moraxâs earthy and fresh scent, his heat pricking at Childe's senses, as slowly the lonely blood droplet pooled down onto his clavicle and down hidden by his clothes. Time was at a standstill and Childe was waiting on the edge of his seat for how the other would react.
Then Morax pulled back, and Childe couldn't even pretend that there was not a complete sense of disappointment to the other leaving away and clearly no longer threatening him, something in him yearning for that tense closeness where he could almost count the other's heartbeats with his eyes at the base of his neck. Only out of a strategic positioning of course.
"Very well, then," Morax said, stepping back, his rudimentary weapon clattering to the ground, forgotten. His approval seemed to also break the standstill between Ningguang and Xiao, the latter breaking free and almost hitting Morax's chest in the haste to position himself in front of him.
"My lord, you absolutely cannot be serious," he said frantically, and Childe was surprised by the clear affront in his words that was not fully anger but also containing some desperation.
"Oh, but I am more than serious, Alatus. Our guest has made a proposal and I intend to accept it with a condition," Morax said, his previous anger gone, smug calmness replacing it instead. The assured look of the other as he stepped around Xiao, who for a second seemed to want to pull him back but thought better than to touch his god, put Child at ill ease.
The Archon once again walked in front of Childe that had managed to straighten himself in his chair from the previous manhandling. No one could even tell an altercation had passed beyond the blood pulling from his neck and tainting his shirt a blooming red.
"Oh? And what condition might that be?" Childe asked, completely curious now. Morax had not been wrong. It was a blasphemy, his request. No god would offer a second Vision to one chosen by another god. It felt like sacrilege and wars have started over less.
"Here is how the contract will go. You will continue your duties here and honour the wishes of the Tsaritsa in her stead to heal me. I, in return, as a sign of good will for your help will give you Geo powers at the end of your deal, as long as you impress me. How does that sound?" As he spoke, Morax kneeled down in front of Childe's chair, bringing them once upon at eye level. Xiao in the background seemed to redden in fury his hand tightly wounding up into a fist that Childe felt was meant for his face.
Yet he could not concentrate on of that. He was in shock, he couldn't believe what was happening, yet even in his best dreams he had never thought such an opportunity could come by for him. Even before the other spoke he was already nodding, his face breaking into a grin.
"Very well then. I accept your contract," he agreed easily. "And mark my words I will completely heal you in no time." A contract to end his Healing career, one last job and then freedom laid ahead. He could not wait to get this over with.
"Then that's how it shall be, as my word is as solid as rock. And the wrath of it should befall those who break this contract."
Stopped being a kid the day his father broke his motherâs nose. Dies for something real. Tells pretty lies and foul truths. Has scars all over his mind as proof that they couldnât break him. The nature of grief is deeply woven into his muscles. Struggles with being good. Pride like steel in his throat. His body is a prison that holds a god between the bones. Doesnât fear the dark for what it is but for what it feels. His heart is stuffed with all the corpses of the people he left spent on dirty sheets. Guilt eats him away bit by bit. At night his bones pool into thunder. Ruin tattooed on his flesh. A massacre waiting between his tensed shoulders. Vicious spelled in capital letters on his birth certificate. A lonely man, a sad boy who destroys himself because heâs too tired to care.Â
If you thought Iâm ship biased about 291 spoilers here and here, read down below cause Iâm here just to make everyone suffer with some spicy LoV feels.
So shigabi shippers whatâs good? Cause Dabi literally betrayed Shigaraki, didnât care if he let his body waste away on that battlefield to achieve his own goals. Shigaraki was legit a lost child, perhaps the only person that could understand the extent of Dabiâs suffering.Â
He opened his arms, allowed Dabi in his life, in his plans, trusted him not only with his life but more with the life of the other people he came to care most deeply about. The people he fought for and kept on going really to realise his vision. And Dabi just set all of that on fire.Â
Family, home, acceptance, companionship, he burnt it all down, used it as kindles for his fires. He let Twice die for his broadcast as much as he avenged him for his death AFTER the fact when his plans were coming together.Â
And for his beloved leader?Â
He let him fight, let him struggle.Â
And in the end? He let his broken body lying on the ground him at the top of the world, letting him fight and crash whilst he stayed away only to come in and take the opportunity of Shigarakiâs probable defeatÂ
To execute his plan. Dabi went to hell and brought everyone around him with him, really burning himself his life old and present for this one singular goalÂ
If we consider that in any way shape or form Dabi and Hawks were in a relationship and loved each other, we have to agree that Dabi in the end brought Hawks his biggest downfall, taken down by probably the only thing he had allowed himself to have until now His emotion and love was a downfall and brought his own demise; as for Dabi in his spiral down into hell he literally burnt down any chance at absolution, cutting ties with both LoV and his softer feelings for both his family and lover.Â
Dabi denies himself the redemption that could have been taken through loving Hawks, to change through those feelings, and instead burns it all to the ground for his plans. Perhaps dabihawks is real for many of us; perhaps it doesnât matter if itâs fully canon or not. The truth is, Dabi could have loved Hawks. He didnât love him enough though, not to burn his whole being to the ground and drag both of them down into hell without remorse for his revenge. Hawks was something but not enough to undo all his dreams and being laughing In his crusade to achieve his revenge.
So Iâm sure the meta writers are all over this already but Iâm gonna talk about what Dabi filming Hawks and broadcasting his only murder on national TV would mean for Hawks in general. Beyond the fact that Hawks is unconscious and will definitely have to wake up to see his worst moments broadcasted on repeat and will more than probably face a trial and a jail sentence. I wonât talk how most probably any chance of recovering his wings right now seem -5.Â
I will talk about Hawks is dead in every sense of the word Hawks as a character is dead. He might as well be dead, perhaps it would be a mercy in many ways. Hawks as a hero is finished. He will now be quirkless, with a forever crippled body. And even if he were to try to return to hero work in other ways that doesnât change that now he canât do this. Because he will most definitely face charges. With one move Dabi took out the no. 1 strongest hero and no. 1 most beloved hero in front of a nation unveiling them as abusers and murders.Â
Hawks will never be able to regain what he has lost. Socially, professionally Hawks will be no more if not behind the bars of a jail cell. And he will be thrown under the bus because the Commission will try to do damage control and Endeavour is more important to them. Heâs th no. 1 hero, will face lesser charges, so they will throw Hawks under the bus, their little experiment not worth the bother and it could become useful in one last way before it fully expires.Â
Hawks has invested his life, his safety, morals, years and everything into being a hero. And everything right now will be ripped away from him. He flew too close to the sun indeed, as he was burnt metaphorically and physically. It was heavily that Hawks emotionally is not okay and only lives for his work and beyond that he is pretty much⊠Empty. Especially if you consider the whole HPSC hc about having abused and brainwashed him. He had dedicated everything to this life and cause, to the point of pushing himself to murder someone that was becoming a friend(?) And his reward will be nothing but an empire of dust. Hawks is dead and Takami Keigo will wake up to a world that has changed completely for him, in which nothing that he knew stands right and everything he was fits no more. The mask of Hawks will be gone and Keigo will be left with nothing to his mind, body or soul.
Takami Keigo will live because at this point dying would be a mercy, but living might be the worst punishment for him as his whole life has reached a singular point of nothingness. Everything he did was for nothing burnt to the ground. Takami Keigo will have to fight for his life - in the barest of senses as he will have to rediscover what it even means to live.Â
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
One week later I finally finish my piece for the @chicken-tendies-and-bacon-bits Halloween bang! My wonderful bang partner Stephâs art was included in my piece and I am so extremely proud of this piece. It had been extremely fun doing this!! Hope you all enjoy it
Summary:Â Hawks does not believe there is anything left to his existence after being cast out of both the Seelie and Unseelie court; hidden in the depth of untouched woods, with barely a hut and a garden to his name, he is trapped by a downfall that came too swift, by fears that make him oft look over his shoulder for a strike he is expecting and has still yet to come, and by the webs settling over his thoughts making his mind, once the most cunning in both courts, now murky and prone to reverie. He does not expect his miserable existence to be rattled, neither for the worse nor for the better; yet humanity is ever the harbinger of change and a mop of green hair and eager eyes alight with curiosity twist his mundane life over its head. He does not expect Midoriya Izuku; he does not expect Shouto to follow in tow. And he certainly does not expect Dabi and all the changes that he will bring in his wake, to teach him and undo the very fabric of his being only to stitch it back together.
so i want to talk for a minute about why itâs so important that you reblog fics on tumblr (yes, i know thereâs a problem with art too but this is specifically about fics today)
first of all, let me kick this off by saying, if youâre reading this, this is for you specifically. yes, you with less than a hundred followers, you with less than ten followers, you with zero followers. there seems to be this misconception that it doesnât matter if you donât reblog something because no one will see it and iâm telling you right here, right now, that youâre wrong. it definitely 100% matters and iâm going to tell you why
last month, i reached a follower milestone and was very excited - for about a day and a half and then my excitement plummeted because what i realized was that i had just hit this milestone and yet the number of notes on my fics had never been lower. at first i was baffled. how could i have more followers than ever but be getting less notes than i used to? at the time, i was posting one to two ficlets every day so i thought maybe the quality was decreasing because of how much i was putting out and i just hadnât noticed so i decided to take a break from posting ficlets and focused on my longer works and the events i was participating in
i went back to posting today after asking for prompts from followers yesterday and go figure, the number of notes is still lower than it was compared to posts from the beginning of the year, even factoring in the time thatâs passed since then. so then i thought to check the notes themselves and what i ended up finding was that while the number of likes hadnât changed, the reblogs had (interestingly, this drop in notes coincided with a post making the rounds telling writers to be happy with the silent readers who leave neither likes nor reblogs on works but thatâs a story for another post)
this is when i went to a couple friends to complain that i didnât know what i was doing wrong and made an off-hand comment about wondering if people were seeing all these posts begging for people to reblog and just not thinking it applied to them, which is when may - thank you, may - told me that yeah, thatâs exactly what a lot of blogs think so let me tell you why it does actually matter that you reblog, even if you donât think it does
firstly, as it relates just to the author, when you reblog, youâre telling the author that not only did you like their story, but you want to share it with everyone else too. i donât know an author out there who doesnât go through the reblogs and read the tags and i can pretty much guarantee that we all get that warm, fuzzy feeling when someone leaves a particularly nice tag
there are two common arguments that i hear for this point: what if i like something cringey and why does it matter if i reblog something when i donât have any followers to share it with?
as for the first argument, no media is unproblematic and no media is something that everyone will consider non-cringey. thereâs always going to be someone out there who thinks your chosen fandom is cringey and itâs best to realize that now and get over it. you canât please everyone. besides, itâs your blog. why wouldnât you want to post things you like on your blog?
as for the second argument, if itâs not enough for you that even just the act of wanting to share fics means something to the authors, then let me bring you to my second point: fandom is built on active, not passive, participation
weâve all heard stories about the star trek fans who actively passed paper copies of fic around to share it with people. fandom was built on sharing those fics. friendships were built on sharing those fics. and if those fans had taken the fics they wrote and hidden them away, shared them with only a couple friends and told them not to distribute their works, modern fandom as it is today wouldnât exist. weâd still be hiding our fics, hoping that we donât get the all-terrifying dmca notice
along the same lines, tumblr is built on active participation. every couple of months, it seems like tumblr comes out with a new way to make it harder for content creators to share their stuff: the 2018 nsfk ban, shadow-banning, problems with the read more, and recently not being able to put links in your work if you want it to show up in the tags. all of this means that itâs up to us to keep fandom on tumblr going because tumblr isnât going to do it for us
tumblrâs algorithm, unlike just about every other social media site, is designed around reblogs. this, in many ways, makes sense. tumblr is a blogging platform so of course its algorithm is designed around what gets shared. this means that posts that show up in the tags are the ones that get reblogged. the posts that show up in the On Your Dashboard, What You Missed, and Recommended features are all the ones that get reblogged. the posts that show up on the login screen, for those of you who regularly see it, are the ones that get, you guessed it, reblogged
so what that means is that, even though you might have only a couple or even no followers, your reblog counts toward that algorithm and that post gets bumped a little bit higher in the tag
which is why itâs such a big problem when people stop reblogging. i canât tell you how many times iâve seen a tag saying something along the lines of âwow this is so good, why doesnât it have more notes?â well, typically itâs because anywhere between 2/3 and Ÿ of the notes on that post are likes, which means that tumblrâs algorithm counted my fic as worthless and didnât bother promoting it
which leaves me where i currently am: reblogging my own ficlets over and over in the hopes that someone will like it enough to reblog it, tagging it with something as pleading as âif you like please consider rebloggingâ because if i use anything stronger, i get a whole bunch of people telling me that i canât tell people what to post
no, youâre right, i canât tell you what to post. the most i can do is beg and explain yet again why every reblog counts
âwow this is so good, why doesnât it have more notes?â well, typically itâs because anywhere between 2/3 and Ÿ of the notes on that post are likes, which means that tumblrâs algorithm counted my fic as worthless and didnât bother promoting it
this is the best breakdown on the algorithm that I have ever seen, and, it really helps yâall understand what it means to us as writers when you reblog things. I check all of the reblogs I get for the tags. like, all of them. I love reading the tags that you leave.
Wow I really do love short stories. I think writeblr focuses so often on novels, on 50, 60, 70, 80K word counts, but thereâs something so intrinsically beautiful about telling a compelling story in 2,000 words and then moving on to tell another.
avoiding writing action be like: I wonder how much introspection I can get away with in this fast-paced sequence about a life and death situation that Iâm not too keen on actually describing
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
But something gives him pause as the creatureâs back hits a tree, eyes wide and shoulders shaking. The remnants of his blue fire light up the dim forest enough for Dabi to get a good luck at the thingâs face for the first time.
Red wings. Gold eyes. Blonde hair. Dabiâs mouth opens in a perfect âoâ.
âHawks?â He asks, aghast.
Because thatâs who it is, despite the extraâŠmutated features that have taken Hawks neatly out of the human category and placed him among the horrific creatures that have overrun the earth. Itâs not the first time Dabiâs recognized someone he used to know in one of those things, but seeing Hawks again isâŠjarring.
Especially considering the last time theyâd met, Dabi had told him his real name and tried to burn him alive.
a monster apocalypse au ft dabihawks and emotions, pls enjoy :)) (and mind the tags)
âAre you okay? If you want to vent, Iâm here you know. You can get angry and shout, I donât mind. Iâll listen for a little while.â
Catastrophe at 16, Book 6, Chapter 2, Page 217
âYeah. Youâve been dealing with so much lately. Why not let a friend spoil you? Iâll buy you a cup of coffee, and you can cry on my shoulder.â
Catastrophe at 16, Book 6, Chapter 3, Page 269
âThatâs why I brought it up. You looked like there was something you needed to get off your chest. So? What is it thatâs bothering you?â
Resurrection at 19, Book 1, Prologue, Page 13
âHnh⊠so did you cry?â
âWhat do you need to know that for?â
âI donât⊠but did you?â
ââŠâ
âOf course. Of courseâŠâ
Shinya and Guren after Guren shares Mahiruâs last words, Resurrection at 19, Book 1, Chapter 3, Page 107 and 108
âHey Guren.â
âYeah?â
âDidnât I see you start to cry back there?â
âThat was a yawn.â
âIt looked like you were welling up before you yawned.â
âI was holding back the yawn the whole time.â
âOh?â
âYep.â
âOh?â
âWhat.â
âNothing. Itâs just, if somethingâs bothering youââ
Guren interrupted him.
â-
âCome on, tell me.â
âTell you what?â
âWhy you were crying.â
Resurrection at 19, Book 2, Chapter 4, Page 115 and 116
No thoughts. Only Shinya trying his best, jokingly or not, to be Gurenâs emotional support right before Guren usually tells him to shut up and the fact that he always waits until theyâre either alone or at least have a moment to themselves before bringing it up. Feel free to add if I missed any.
