#aaaaaaaaaaaagghhhh

It is I

John-non

I apologize for my great absence

I have a gift for my misdeeds

The long awaited

Masktaglia angst

(You may have to go back and check the original au's context haha, it's been years, just search masktaglia on your profile)

(Also it's funny that I've apparently rambled to you and explained masktaglia *twice* in my timeline of knowing you lol)

Childe having his mask knocked off of his body in a fight, either purely because he was distracted or because keeping the fight from turning bad was literally all he could do in what time he was afforded. And suddenly his body is gone, it goes limp, because the soul is not there, it's in the mask that's been tossed aside, and now it's *gone*, and Childe is out of range. Not even a chance to switch to Foul Legacy, though he certainly wanted to try.

The body that gets brought back is horrifying enough, because it's *definitely* not in a good state, but you know he's survived bad things, you always have known he can do more than he should, because you know his secret.

No, it's the fact that the mask that's usually there in place is missing, the fact that the one thing that you know *should* be there if he's going to survive isn't, that terrifies you, because when that's gone, that's when you *really* have to worry about your adorable harbinger and your sweet sweet moth. You try to ask the people that brought his body back where it was, but they don't know, so all you can do is ask where they found him, so that you can go after it instead.

You search for hours, over every bit of the area, looking for the small red mask, and you're getting desperate, praying and hoping for this one little chance, for Childe to still be alive, and it finally, *finally* catches your eye, but the state of it is terrible. It's been split in half, jagged and snapped, maybe as if someone knew what they were doing when they tossed it, and it *shatters* your heart, because this is your *only* hope. You have zero chance of seeing him again, now, and yet you still bring it back anyways, because maybe, *maybe*, somehow, he was still in there. *Maybe* he was still ok. You set the two halves on his head, hoping, praying for something, and there is *something*, despite his body being cold, his heart silent. He moves - and he thrashes - and he screams.

The pain of having your soul shattered is not an easy one to describe, and it is much worse to live through. It leaves a wound so much deeper, in a way that may never, ever heal, and Childe could do nothing but *feel* that pain for so long.

Not to mention, he was put back into a body that was *dead.*

At some point, he shifts. It's no longer Childe, it's Foul Legacy, and he's whining, whimpering, shaking so badly. He's in pain, and his face, just like the mask, is cracked, in that same terrible pattern. His *eye* is cracked, too, the beautiful blue that made it up laced with dark fractures, and when it finally, shakily meets with yours, there is confusion, distortion, only half recognition. Something is missing - something is *wrong*. He doesn't feel right, he's in pain and he *hurts* and something. is. wrong.

Childe isn't seen again for a while.

Foul Legacy flickers between bouts of confusion and anguish, and recovery seems near impossible.

i think i've gathered enough evidence to safely say that some of you just like to hurt me emotionally so so much /lh

for context, masktaglia is an AU this lovely anon came up with, the basic premise is that Childe's soul is connected to the mask he wears rather than his physical body and that has Consequences™

you can do nothing but hold Foul Legacy close, trying to infuse as much comfort as you can into the embrace, apologizing over and over and over again. it's your fault- it's all your fault, you should've known the damage was too severe, both to the mask and to the body, but you were too stubborn and now Legacy is suffering because of you and Childe is nowhere to be found- you have to bite your tongue to restrain your tears, focusing on Foul Legacy, confused and in horrible pain. the only thing that eases him seems to be having you close, being in your arms, even as you cry a constant mantra of sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry as you hold him closer, rubbing your thumbs over his trembling claws. you don't dare to touch his face, to brush against the mangled mask, the broken gemstone of an eye- you couldn't bear cause him even more pain

yet he wants you to touch him, wants and needs and pleads to have your hand on his arm, his shoulder, his face- yes, his face. it does hurt, when you trace the jagged crack, but your fingers are so gentle that it feels like he's melting into nothing but stardust, beautiful and free, beneath your touch. you surround him with soft pillows and blankets, silently wondering if Childe will also, someday, return. for a moment, you selfishly hope that he will. then you squash the mere thought under your foot. to bring him back would only cause more pain for Childe and Legacy- as much as it broke your heart, you simply couldn't drag him into a broken, rotten body, especially not with your Abyssal monster, already suffering so much. you can't bring him back. but you can't let him go, either. the matching earring you keep is a testament to that, gleaming dully on the bedside table as you tend to Foul Legacy, letting him sleep fitfully in your lap