#and he hated me so much he started chasing me around with a rusty sword weehh......

[deadlittledogs]

dreamt I was Jerma's in-person assistant and that I kept coming onto his streams to subtly try and touch his arm and back and every time I was visible on stream the view count would start plummeting down and his girlfriend really didn't like me but I would call her "mommy" in a very serious tone a lot anyways so I would say stuff like "Does mommy want me to go to dutch bros and get the hazelnut truffle mocha for her? Well what did daddy say." and the chat would be just be like "did Jerma and his gf hire a gimp"

[archived-kin]

three names

note from kin: apparently that domestic diluc piece really did wonders for my writers block because i managed to churn this entire thing out within one night

anyway i know little to nothing about childe’s backstory so do be warned that i am only very loosely following the information we get from his story quest/voice lines/etc!

(also as a heads up childe is referred to as ajax throughout this piece! for those who don't know, ajax is his birth name)

fandom: genshin impact

character(s): gn!reader, childe, zhongli

pairing(s): childe/reader

warning(s): death (brief and not descriptive), mentions of blood

genre: angst i guess?? it isn’t SUPER heavy but this is very much Not A Happy Piece

You’ve known Ajax for what feels like forever.

The two of you grow up together on the streets of Morepesok, spending the short hours of daylight chasing each other down icy streets and pelting each other with snowballs until your fingers are frozen solid under their mittens and you’re both lying exhausted under the trees. He’s still a somewhat skittish and shy young boy, always hiding behind you while you ask the local farmers for permission to play in their fields and leaving all of the decisions to you when it comes to your childish games.

You know exactly how to get those blue eyes of his to light up like no other, though. Ever since the two of you were tiny tots, Ajax has always been enchanted by stories of adventures, of heroes who journey far from home to conquer evils beyond his childish comprehension, fighting with both sword and mind to quell any hardships or troubles that come their way. He listens to his father tell him these stories with a sparkle in his eye like no other, and begs for a new chapter as soon as one is finished.

You take advantage of this love of adventure to coax him into playing with you - him, the hero and you, his trusty sidekick, braving fight after fight together until the great sea monster is defeated, or until the brainwashed former friend was released - until the world bows down at your feet. You stand beside him and smile as he cackles, foot set atop a stone and brandishing a stick to the sky like a sword.

While Ajax longs for battle and glory, however, you secretly prefer the stories about the fisherman who wins the favour of the sea gods by saving a seal from a net, about the fae who collects the treasures of the land in an attempt to preserve the remains of a race she has loved and lost, about the dragon who follows the rainbow far into the east to find a companion who has fallen under the control of an evil sorcerer. Where he finds interest in tales of clashing blades and rumbling cannons, you find interest in the warmth of a campfire, surrounded by laughing companions that have shared a long journey together. You don’t love these games for the fights and the victories like he does - you love the games because it means you can be with him.

You suppose that this difference of interests is the reason you stay behind when he leaves on his own ‘heroic journey’.

The two of you are only fourteen - still children, for Archons’ sake - and Ajax has long since lost interest in the mundanity of his daily life.

“All we do is eat and play,” He mutters with a pout, poking at the snow with a stick. “It’s boring.”

You tilt your head in confusion and trot up to stand beside him, face half-hidden behind a scarf wrapped like a vice around your neck. “What do you mean?”

He scoffs a little then, and offers you a boyish grin. “Don’t worry, [Name]. You’re an exception.”

You still don’t understand what he means, not exactly, but it still sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

The next day, he knocks on your door, dressed in an over-large coat and his favourite hat, a backpack strapped firmly to his back and a rusty shortsword in his hand. He beams at you as you open the door, and announces that he’s running away to find an adventure, and that he was wondering if you wanted to come with him.

You ask if this is another game he wants to play. He shakes his head and tells you that this is for real - that he’s going to explore far and wide, to seek out the quests that he’s heard so many stories about. He’s going to be a hero, and he wants you to be his sidekick, just like always.

But you have always been a little too timid, too afraid of going so far out into the snow, too aware of the dangers of a reckless jaunt like this. And so, bowing your head in shame, you answer that you can’t

He freezes for a moment then, disappointment clear on his face, but he replaces it with a a grin almost immediately. You don’t know it at the time, but this is the last time you’ll ever see him smile like this again.

“Don’t worry about it!” He reassures you. “I’ll bring back lots of souvenirs for you when I come back! Like a dragon head!”

“I don’t like heads.” You mumble. “Too much blood.”

He doesn’t falter. “A dragon claw, then!”

The two of you exchange brief goodbyes, neither of you aware of the magnitude of what Ajax is choosing to do, nor the consequences it will bring, and then he leaves. And you let him, watching his little figure disappear and melt into the blinding white of the snow.

It’s a mistake that continues to haunt you for the rest of your life.

He turns up again, two days later, lying unconscious on the outskirts of the forest by the village. A mere two days - but somehow, you’ve always felt as if he’d been away for much, much longer.

Ajax is never the same after that. He’s more distracted, more absent - he never wants to go out for walks in the fields with you anymore, nor does he have any interest in playing games or hearing stories. He still lets you follow him around and sit beside him, but he speaks less and less, and spends more and more time thinking.

You don’t give up on him, though. It doesn’t matter how much his blank gaze scares you sometimes, nor how unsettling the look on his face is after he shreds yet another hay training dummy to pieces. You hang around him anyway, talking about every little thing that comes to mind, and sometimes, he replies with the same silliness that he did when the two of you were younger.

It bothers you, the way that he swings so abruptly between the old him and the new him. Sometimes he’s just the boy you’d spent your childhood playing with, chasing you down the street only to stuff snow down the back of your jacket, then making you a hot drink afterwards as an apology when you declare that you hate him. But sometimes he isn’t.

His face stills, and his eyes go cold. He stares emptily at the snow beneath his feet, not responding when you call his name, and he returns to his garden sooner or later, to slaughter another line of training dummies. The way he gazes down at the wreckage, the way his hand clenches around the shaft of an arrow or the hilt of a blade, the way that he seems to hunger for more - it scares you.

Perhaps it is unsurprising that he joins the Fatui as soon as he turns seventeen.

He doesn’t tell you - he doesn’t tell anyone, not at first. He simply slips away and leaves, sometimes for days on end, and returns without a word as to his absence. You believe him when he tells you that it’s a series of job interviews in a different town, even congratulate him on the opportunity. You believe a lot of the lies he tells you.

It isn’t until you come upon him in the middle of one of his assignments that the wool is finally pulled away from your eyes.

You’re out in the city on a shopping trip by your mother’s request, carrying several baskets of fresh produce that just don’t grow quickly enough in your little seaside town, when you spot his auburn hair disappearing into a secluded alleyway. You follow quickly, opening your mouth to call out to him, only to snap it shut when you see what he’s doing.

A woman is lying beneath his foot, and he is crushing the breath out of her with the heel of his boot. There is a blade in his hand, glinting softly in the darkness of the alleyway.

The woman sobs breathlessly, begs for her life to be spared, her face contorted with fear and despair. But Ajax doesn’t flinch. In one, smooth movement, he points the blade to her neck and slashes.

You don’t know if the scream that echoes around the alleyway is yours or hers.

It’s only then that he finally turns around and sees you, and the mask covering the upper half of his face is all too familiar.

Your eyes fall upon the dead woman, her mouth still open in her final plea for mercy.

“Ajax,” You whisper, your voice trembling. “What have you done?”

The bloodstained blade in his hand clatters to the ground. “[Name]... what are you doing here?”

You don’t answer him. Your entire body feels numb. “You’re… you’re one of the Fatui.”

It isn’t a question.

He’s silent for a long time. Finally, he lets out a frustrated sigh, tearing the mask from his face and throwing it to the ground carelessly, and approaches you, hands held out as if comforting a frightened child.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this,” He says quietly.

“Were you ever going to let me find out?” You ask. Your eyes move back to the woman’s corpse despite everything in your brain screaming at you to look away, and your hands start shaking.

Ajax notices. He steps in front of the body, as if trying to shield it from your view. “Of course. I was just waiting for the right time to tell you, that’s all.”

“Why… why would you…?”

He meets your gaze. He shrugs. “I wanted to fight.”

There is blood staining the left side of his face. Your eyes are drawn to it in the same way they were to the corpse, and you feel a sudden burst of anger on her behalf. “How was this a fight? You trapped her in an alleyway - you didn’t even give her a chance to struggle!”

“This is different.” He states, as if it’s obvious, and his eyes go cold. “The woman was defying the will of the Tsaritsa. She needed to be disposed of.”

“Is that all you are now? A puppet of the Tsaritsa?!” You’re practically shouting now, tears threatening to start streaming down your face. You want to punch him, slap him, anything to make him realise what path he’s rapidly beginning to go down, but there isn’t any strength left in you. Not after what you just saw. “What happened to you?!”

“I changed,” He says simply, and his sea-blue eyes are frozen over completely. This isn’t the boy that you grew up and loved - and it occurs to you that he might not have been for a long, long time. “I grew up and I changed.”

“Ajax—” You begin, but he places a finger to your lips.

“It’s Tartaglia now.”

Perhaps if you look close enough, hope hard enough, you’ll be able to fool yourself into thinking there was some kind of emotion on his face - something, anything that proves that he still cares - but there is nothing but emptiness in his gaze.

You don’t sleep that night. You don’t sleep for a long, long time, unable to put a stop to the unrelenting march of thoughts streaming through your head like a gushing river, like the endless depths of the ocean, like the deep blue of his eyes...

You distract yourself as best you can. You move out of town while he’s out on another mission and take your parents with you, settling down in a small village at the base of a mountain. There, you busy yourself every hour of the day, taking solace in the ache of your muscles and the fatigue that weighs heavily on your limbs. The people of the village come to know you as the helping hand, the eager assistant, always raring to go when asked for a favour.

And yet, even as you sit around a table in the local bar, surrounded by warmth and chatter and familiar faces, you can’t help but feel an emptiness opening in your chest. Old Dmitri, manning the bar as usual, slides a tankard over to you with a sympathetic smile, and asks, “What’s wrong?”

You ask yourself that question more times than you can count, digging it deep into your skin, carving it into your mind, unable to help wondering, and yet... you never find an answer. What is wrong with you? Why does Ajax’s absence cut into you like a knife, keeping you awake deep into the night, plagued by dreams of cold, dead eyes and red blood pooling in the white snow? Why is it that, no matter how many times you remind yourself of the man in that alleyway and the body of the woman he’d just slaughtered, of the man that was not Ajax, of Tartaglia - you can only remember the grinning boy of your childhood?

Your parents don’t know why your eyes are always red-rimmed when you come down for breakfast in the morning, nor why you refuse to look at your surroundings when you go out into town, keeping your eyes focused determinedly on your dragging feet.  They don’t know how many hours you spend staring out into the deep sky, wondering if Ajax is watching the same stars as you are, whether he even thinks of you at all.

Everything around you seems to taunt you, and you realise something.

You have to leave. You have to run away, to find a home in a place where the streets don’t stir up memories of days long gone, where the crunch of the snow beneath your feet doesn’t remind you of the sound of tearing flesh, where you can just be without Ajax haunting you around every corner you turn.

And so you set off for Liyue. You journey to the land amidst monoliths, seeking golden soil warmed by the sun to escape the cold snow and icy rain. You do not stop moving until you reach the land where the mountains stretch high and the streets of the harbour are painted with red and yellow, where the people are unfamiliar, the buildings are unfamiliar - where everything is unfamiliar. You’re tired of dwelling on past memories, tired of putting yourself through the same pain.

You settle in quickly, taking up a job at Wanmin Restaurant and eventually saving up enough to afford more than the little hotel box room you first are resigned to stay in. You move in with a new friend of yours, an apparently refined gentleman who seems to have no shortage of money but still always forgets to bring it when he needs it, and you start to remember what living in peace feels like again.

You take a deep breath as you watch the bustle of the city from the open window of your bedroom. The cool evening breeze in Liyue Harbour is soothing, unlike the biting nightly winds of Snezhnaya. Perhaps you can finally let go of Ajax now, you think.

Somewhere in the heavens, Fate mocks your hopefulness.

Two years later, your friend, who has only become even worse at managing his money despite your constant nagging, invites you to a dinner with him and a new acquaintance he’d like to introduce you to. You agree, unsuspecting of the true identity of his so-called ‘friend’.

You take one step into the private room that Zhongli had booked and realise what a terrible mistake you’ve made when you see a familiar figure sitting at the table.

He doesn’t turn around at first, too occupied with trying to take a sip of his tea without burning his mouth. Zhongli smiles at you, painfully unaware of the amount of old trauma he’s inadvertently stirred up.

“I’m glad that you made it,” He says pleasantly, and gestures to the man sitting across from him. “This is the acquaintance I was telling you about. His name is Childe.”

There is a long silence. The initial shock of the moment wears off, only to be replaced by something resembling anger.

“So it’s Childe now, is it?” Ajax stiffens as he hears your voice come from behind him. “How many names does one man need?”

He turns around agonisingly slowly, failing to register the dangerous tilt of the teacup in his hands as it comes close to tipping its contents all over the table. You stare blankly back at him from the doorway.

How long has it been since he last saw you? He doesn’t know. Ever since the two of you had parted ways in that alleyway, you’d all but disappeared. The window to your bedroom had always been dark and empty when he stopped by your home, and neither you nor your parents were anywhere to be seen, no matter how thoroughly he’d searched the town. It had only been when Tonia had mentioned your absence in one of his letters that he’d realised that you weren’t just avoiding him. You’d left. Left the town where the two of you had grown up, left the home you’d lived in for so long, left behind all the friends you’d made over the years - just to run away from him.

There are new scars on your face, a new poise in the way you hold yourself. A sheathed dagger glitters at your belt, and even now you toy with its hilt in a way that tells him that you are familiar with it. You’ve changed so much, and he aches to think that he had been unable to see any of it.

He hadn’t wanted you to go, he never had. You’d always been his best friend, someone he looked up to, someone he enjoyed the company of, someone he cherished - someone he loved. But he’d had a duty to attend to, a new mistress to serve, a new title, a new responsibility. He couldn’t keep fooling himself into thinking he could keep the relationship he had with you forever.

That day in the alleyway - he’s never been able to forget the look on your face when you realised who he had become. It’s been burnt into his memory ever since then, flashing before his eyes just before he strikes, and even now, five years later, he still gets reprimanded by his fellow Harbingers for faltering just before he makes the kill. They always ask - how can Tartaglia, who takes pleasure in watching the life drain out of his opponent’s eyes after a battle well fought, hesitate like that?

He never has an answer for them.

Zhongli looks back and forth between the two of you, his brows knitting together slightly. “Do the two of you know each other already?”

“You could say that,” You reply, though your eyes don’t move even an inch from your old friend’s face. His expression is crumpled, almost vulnerable, a far cry from the stone-cold indifference he wore the last time you saw him.

“[Name],” He says finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “What… what are you doing here?”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “I’ve lived in Liyue Harbour for two years. Why wouldn’t I be here?”

Several seconds pass by with no response.

“It seems the two of you have much to talk about,” Zhongli observes, and gets to his feet. “I’ll leave you for now.”

He’s out of the room before either of you can object. Damn him and his perception.

You don’t sit down at the table. Instead, you move to the window, looking out over the city that you have come to love.

Ajax joins you. He hesitates as he approaches, as if debating whether or not to settle right beside you as he would have in the past. Eventually, though, he decides to keep his distance.

“Liyue is beautiful at night.” He says quietly. “Language is a nightmare to learn, though.”

That earns him a short laugh from you, and he can’t help the way his heart skips a beat as he hears it. “You can say that again. I don’t think I even have a proper grasp of it now.”

“You’re speaking pretty fluently,” He replies. “I’d say that’s a proper enough grasp.”

“It’s all just conversational, really.” You don’t look at him, instead choosing to look down at Xiangling, Xingqiu and Chongyun as they walk through the street below you together, exchanging jokes and nudges. “What about you?”

“I’d like to think I know it pretty well. I had to learn for—”

He cuts himself off, but you already know what he’d been about to say.

“For your Fatui duties here,” You finish for him, and though you don’t move, somehow he feels as if the gap between you has widened. “There’s no need for pretences, Childe.”

He freezes at the way you address him. It’s become familiar to him after using it as an alias for so long, but it sounds so wrong coming from you. It feels as if you’re distancing yourself from him, from the childhood you shared together. As if Ajax, your childhood friend, never existed - only Childe, the Fatui Harbinger.

“Don’t…” His voice breaks, and he forces himself to take a deep breath before continuing. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?” You sound so detached, so distant - and he hates it. “Would you prefer Tartaglia? That’s what you told me to call you last time we met.”

He feels as if you’ve stabbed him in the chest. It probably would’ve hurt less if you did, actually, but he knows he deserves it. “...no. I don’t want you to call me Tartaglia, either.”

You don’t respond, but he continues anyway. “I want… I want you to call me Ajax.”

Silence.

You finally turn to look at him, surprise painted on your features. “...what?”

Your eyes are just as he remembers them. He never wants to see them as they were on that day five years ago, filled with despair and tears that threatened to brim over.

He takes a deep breath and repeats, “I want you to call me Ajax.”

You stare at him for a long moment. Your face shifts, as if you can’t decide whether you want to be angry or sad or something else entirely. You open your mouth to say something, but at that moment the door opens again, and Zhongli pokes his head in.

“My apologies,” He says a little sheepishly, “But the attendant informed me that we should start ordering our dishes now if we don’t want to accidentally go over our time slot. That is - if you two are alright with having dinner with each other?”

You don’t respond immediately. Your eyes stay on the man gazing almost wistfully at you, your expression becoming thoughtful.

It’s been five years since you’ve last seen him. Five years of sleepless, tormented nights spent tossing and turning, of days spend exhausting yourself just so that you don’t think of him, of a journey filled with obstacles and monsters just to find a place to be at peace in, and just as you finally think you might be moving on, he shows up again.

Maybe you should be angry. Maybe you should be drawing your dagger and threatening him to stay the fuck away from your city and to take his Fatui agents with him. Maybe you should punch him right where it hurts most for all the pain he’s caused you.

But… you’re tired. You’re tired of hurting, tired of remembering. And maybe there’s a little part of you that hopes - a little part of you that still clings to the boy you played with on the streets of Morepesok, the boy that you lost the moment you let him leave on that journey.

And so you come to a conclusion.

“I’ll stay for dinner. What about you, Ajax?”

[escorble-writes]

Stitches: A Changeling Tale (Prologue)

‘Mummy?’ the boy asked hesitantly, ‘Mummy, please tell me a story.’

  He had picked out the shortest story he had because he knew that his Mummy didn’t like reading stories very much. His hands shook as he handed her the little picture book. Thankfully she accepted it and he got a rare smile as well. She looked like an angel when she smiled, her brown hair lit up like a halo with the warm lamp just behind her. It made him smile so much his cheeks hurt.

She patted the seat next to her and the boy climbed up, snuggling closer. He was really pushing it then but felt so lucky just to hear a story. She put her arm around him.

   ‘Sure Jamie, I’ll tell you a story.’

The boy froze as she put the book down and clenched her hand around his arm. He was really in for it now.

‘Once upon a time there lived a man and woman in a land not too far away. They lived in a town that was in the middle of a great big forest that was deep as the deepest ocean. Everyone in the town always looked angry and sad because of the monsters in the forest, who peered out from the darkness of the trees with too-bright eyes and impish smiles. Hundreds of years ago the settling people of the town had chased them into the shadows with swords and arrows of iron, which made the creatures sick, searing and burning their skin, because only monsters couldn’t touch iron.”

Jamie clenched his fists so his Mummy wouldn’t see the little burns on his fingertips. They were taking a while to heal, and stung a lot, making it really hard for him to hold stuff. There was a knock at the door, and it creaked open. His Daddy was standing in the doorway, and his eyes were making the thunderclouds that came from the bitter water.

   ‘Hi honey.’ His Mummy said. ‘I’m just telling Jamie a story. Come, sit with us.’

His Daddy smiled, but it wasn’t a nice smile. It was a cruel, mean smile and he came to sit by the boy. Jamie was trapped.

 ‘Now, where were we? Ah yes... the monsters in the trees were cruel and twisted, and after a few years spent licking their wounds, crawled back to do bad things to the town. Blighting the crops, curdling the milk and burning some of the newer buildings were only the beginnings of their cruelty. Many people who remembered stories of the old ways began to put up wards in their windows made of rowan and iron, but of course other people were too sensible for silly superstition, the man and woman included.

  They were about to have a baby you see and thought rational beliefs and behaviours would serve them well. But the monsters in the woods liked to twist rationality around them and their evil knew no bounds. It was two months after the first barn at the edge of town burnt to the ground and the cold and darkness really began to set in that the man and woman brought their first child into their world. A son. He had his Mother’s deep brown hair and his Father’s sparkling emerald eyes, even so early. They loved him, more than anything or anyone. But within two short weeks he was missing.

  The police were useless and searched for days but the only evidence they had was the smell of rotting pine needles that was left in the air. The man and woman waited and waited, and for three days there was nothing. Then, on the third day, when the man was sleeping downstairs and the woman was wandering upstairs, she heard a baby begin to cry. She rushed into her sons’ room and there he was, in the cradle screaming and screaming with his face bright cherry red and hair three inches longer. She cried in delight and snatched him up, calling for her husband to join her.’

Mummy paused and took a sip of her tea. Just the smell of the tea made Jamie feel happy, almost able to forget the story.

   ‘At first everything seemed normal. They did notice however, the small fires that started whenever the boy grew angry, how his screams sounded wrong like there were two voices instead of one. How fast his hair grew, and teeth cut, along with the inconsolable pulling at his ears as if they ached. How he hated the smell of iron and steel and would scream loud enough for the walls to shake if they ever tried to feed him with a metal spoon. He was behaving like a little monster, but after an experience like he had it was almost to be expected. So for two years they put up with the new strangeness in their son, and it was only when the boy’s hair began to shine strangely in certain lights and the green eyes that had passed down through both their families dulled to an ugly blue, that they finally realised something was more than wrong.’

Jamie looked down at the one rusty spot on the carpet where Daddy had once spilt his drink as he got up to run across the room. He didn’t like this story.

   ‘It changed the man and woman, robbing them of their happiness. The boy looked less and less like their son every day... until the stormy night when the enchantment that kept him looking human finally broke.  His ears grew long and pointed, and two little bat wings sprouted out of his back like weeds. The monsters in the woods had kidnapped their little boy and sent a monster to torture and break the hearts of the man and woman instead.  But they were not going to give the monsters the satisfaction. Do you know what they did Jamie?’

Jamie didn’t say anything, just kept looking down. He wanted to cry. A lump was forming in his throat. But that would mean that they won.

   ‘They pinned him down next to the fire, on a tarp so there wouldn’t be a mess. The man got his bolt cutters from the shed. And they cut off his wings.’

Jamie flinched, and they smiled at the jump.

   ‘It took three tries before the bones finally broke all the way through’ Daddy said with relish. ‘And three hours to catch on fire; after all the bandaging was done. Boy did he scream and scream and scream.’

‘That’s right dear. We don’t like monsters, do we Jamie?’

‘No.’ He whispered.

‘But Jamie,’ She said quite sternly, placing her fingertips on the raised ridges near his spine, ‘You are the monster.’

[hasspartacusdoneanythingwrong]

The Century War of Wyverns, Part 2: Chase the French Soldier

[Previous] [Contents] [Next]

Kat: Our first encounters in a strange new land! It... doesn't go well tbh, but I'm sure the next one will!

Cris: Turns out Spartacus doesn't understand "the back of your blade" very well.

Jeanne: {CWs for violence against humans, death, first-person panic attack}

------

God dammit, how the hell can that mountain of muscle move so fast? We barely got a word in edgewise and he’s already left us in the dust! If we don’t get there in time those soldiers are gonna be a big red smear on the ground. One more hill, and… he’s just… standing there, having a conversation with them? He gestured towards the one in the gaudiest uniform before walking over.

Spartacus: Placet expectare.

Spartacus: Ah master, there you are! I have glorious news! These soldiers are themselves fighting against the oppression of a false king! Of course, a true king is also oppressive in its own way, but still! Their leader even speaks latin! Roughly.

French General: C'est ton géant ?

Kat: <Ooh, ooh! I got this! Time for all that duolingo to do its thing!>

April (Kat): Bonjour, garcon!

I internally rolled my eyes as the soldier blanched.

Cris: <Kat. Garcon means boy. Let’s try something else.>

April (Cris): (Hey, Mash, do you know French? Mine’s a little rusty.)

Mash: (Sorry master, I barely know enough to say hello.)

April (Jeanne): (Well, English is a common lingua franca, might as well try that, right?)

Cris: <Good idea!>

Mash: Wait, that’s-

April (Cris): Sorry about that, tried to be polite, don’t actually know that much French. The big guy’s with us, and we were hoping you… could… Ah, fuck.

The soldiers had already surrounded us. Cries of “L’Anglais!” erupted around us as they pointed their spears in our direction.

Mash: The French are at war with England in this time period!

April (Cris): I gathered, yeah.

Spartacus: So now they seek to oppress us as well?

Mash: What are your orders, master?

April (Cris): Take them down but try not to kill the idiots. Uh… hit them with the back of your blade, or something.

Mash lifted her shield up quizzically.

Mash: And what part of this, exactly, is the blade?

April (Cris): Dammit, just try not to kill them!

Even holding back, it was clear the soldiers were no match for Mash Kyrielight. She ran circles around them, their every attack parried as their weapons shattered against their shield. Even three on one, the soldiers didn’t stand a chance. Meanwhile, Spartacus ha- oh God.

I faltered, stumbled off the road and retched. If Mash had a spotless technique, Spartacus’ was nothing but spots. He simply walked from soldier to soldier and shattered their bodies with his fists. He hadn’t even bothered to draw his sword. The few soldiers Mash pacified were bruised, but relatively unharmed. The ones unlucky enough to face Spartacus weren’t going to get back up.

The forest span <Jeanne?> around me. I know someone was calling our name, but I couldn't <Jeanne!> hear anything beyond the blood rushing to my head. My chest hurt, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't- <JEANNE!>

A sharp sting as my hand slapped my cheek. Cris stopped me from spiraling again. I took a moment to breathe properly.

April (Jeanne): Okay… Okay, I’m good. I think.

I slowly stood up and made it back to the others. The surviving French soldiers had already made their escape. Mash’s spirit origin was shaking. I put my hand on her shoulder as I got closer.

April (Jeanne): Mash, are you alright?

Mash: I should be asking you that, Master. I’m… I can’t believe it, but I’m still not used to this.

April (Jeanne): It’s only been a day or two Mash, you don’t have to force yourself to be okay with this.

Mash: A day? Oh, right.

Spartacus: Mmh. It might be better for you two if you don’t become comfortable in these sorts of things. The two of you are unoppressed by the experience of warfare. Hold that close to you.

Mash: Right. Thank you, Spartacus. So, what’s our next move?

April (Cris): Right, I hate to do this, but… we need to follow the soldiers that ran off.

Spartacus: Ahah, we must finish the fight then?

April (Cris): NO! Nonono. I mean, they’re going to run to the nearest place with people. They’re our only lead right now. Did you see which way they went, Spartacus?

Spartacus: Of course! Follow me!

----

On our way, we got in contact with Dr. Roman again. Turns out our plugsuit comes equipped with a translator- would have come in handy earlier, but fuck it, at least we won’t have to fight literally everyone we come across.

The sky was turning red when we finally saw the smoke clouds over the horizon. We rushed over a hill and finally got a look at the fort. It was in bad shape. Walls crumbled in, with smoke and fire billowing out from several windows. Dark shapes moved through the smoke, obscured in a haze.

Another wall fell over as we descen-

Kat: <Hey, look! Isn’t that one of the soldiers?>

Sure enough, one of the survivors of Spartacus’ rampage was kneeling at the top of the hill.

April (Cris): Hey! Hey you! Don’t fucking run, I’m talking to you!

The soldier had started, but before he made it to his feet we were already surrounding him. He was speaking too fast to translate at first, so I just pressed on.

April (Cris): Look, I get it if you don’t believe us, but we’re not gonna kill you.

April (Jeanne): We have traveled a long way because we heard something very, very bad was happening here. Please, can you tell us what is going on?

French Soldier: Oh, and what are the English going to do about it?! Insult her and run away?

Cris: <Apparently we can do a lot fucking more than your soldiers can.>

April (Jeanne): We have fought worse. Now, who is this “her”?

French Soldier: You’ve fought worse than Jeanne d’Arc? Hah! Unlikely!

Mash: Jeanne d’Arc? She should be dead by this point!

French Soldier: That is the worst part, she is! She was dead for three days, when the Saint of Orleans appeared out of nowhere and started razing all of France to the ground. She’s been tearing around with an Army of monsters for days now! Even King Charles couldn’t stand up to her!

April (Jeanne): Thank you. We will figure out a way to stop this, I promise.

By the time we got closer to the ruined fort, whatever had caused so much damage had long since disappeared. However, I could still make out faint traces of enchantment on some of the bodies scattered around the field.

April (Jeanne): Roman, I'm noticing something off about this corpse. What do you make of it?

Mash: Senpai, we really should get out of the open while there’s still daylight.

April (Jeanne): Give Roman a second, Mash. I'm sure there's something off about it.

Roman: Huh. Good catch, April. This body had been treated for necromancy. Large-scale necromancy is certainly rare, but it’s still possible with or without a holy grail. Either way, it’s good to have an idea of what we’re up against.

We entered the keep. Walking around was a nightmare, it was as if every square inch of space was taken up by the injured. Their groans echoed through the fort. Suddenly, I felt something on the edge of my scanning area. It was faint, but unmistakable. A spirit origin.

April (Jeanne): Mash, do you feel that?

Mash: Barely. There must be a servant outside the castle.

April (Jeanne): No, about thirty feet in that direction. Does anyone catch your eye?

Mash: There’s no one there who could be a servant, Master.

Cris: <This is pointless, let me look.>

Kat: <No way! You got to yell at the guy, lemme look, lemme look!>

Yay, I won! I turned where Jeanne was pointing. The whole place was just beat up soldiers & less beat up soldiers taking care of them. Oh, there’s one! A little girl is going around comforting people as they fall asleep!

April (Kat): What about that little girl? The one dressed in all white? Can she be a servant?

Roman: That’s not likely. Servants are invariably summoned at the “peak” of their myth. It’s possible for child prodigies to be summoned young, but the vast majority will either be young adults when they are most powerful, or at old age when they are most skilled. You guys should get some rest while you can. I’ve detected a leyline a day’s travel from here, you should set out in the morning.

We found a spot near a wall and curled up to sleep. I don’t remember much of my dreams, but when I woke up it was still dark. That girl was still tiptoeing around the soldiers, and every now and then I caught her singing, at barely above a whisper.

That was weird enough, but then something amazing happened! The soldier she was standing next to, his wounds suddenly shrank, until it was like he never got hurt at all! He shifted in his sleep, and she moved on to the next one.

April (Kat): (I knew it!)

I pulled myself out of our pile as slow as possible, and inched closer to her.

April (Kat): Excuse me?

Little Girl: Hello miss. (Please keep your voice down, people are sleeping!)

April (Kat): (Oh, sorry! This might sound weird, but… are you a servant?)

Little Girl: (I am a faithful servant of God, yes. Is something wrong?)

April (Kat): (That’s not exactly what I meant. I mean are you human?)

A strange look crossed the girls face.

Little Girl: (I was. Let’s talk outside.)

She led me by the hand out of the castle. She had such a strong grip, it was kinda awkward! Once we were a bit away, she turned to face me. Suddenly, a spear covered in flags appeared out of nowhere and landed in her hands!

Little Girl: As you have guessed, I am indeed a Servant, Lancer class. My true name is Jeanne d’Arc.

[randomfandomimagine]

Don’t Hate You That Much (Steve x Reader)

Character: Steve Harrington (ft. Dustin Henderson and others)

Fandom: Stranger Things

Categories: GenderNeutral!Reader, Sibling!Reader, Henderson!Reader

Warnings: Injuries, bit of violence, swearing, spoilers for season 2

Word count: 4.673 words

Summary: Y/N realizes Dustin has been hanging out with Steve Harrington, and as the older sibling, wants to protect him from Steve's bad influence. Or so it seemed, because as Y/N gets involved in their endeavor, Steve doesn't seem such a bad guy.

Home sweet home. After a long day studying at the library, I was exhausted. I couldn’t wait to plop down on my bed and rest. Just thinking about it put a smile on my face.

I parked the car and got out, noticing that the lights were out. That was odd, mom and Dustin should be home by now.

“Mom?” I yelled out to the house as I came in, turning the lights on. “Dusty?”

There was no response, so I sat down on the couch and thought where they could be. I tapped my chin with one finger, just then remembering that mom was looking for Mews. But where the hell was my little brother?

Interrupting my train of thought, I heard a loud bang outside. I stood still, waiting to see if something else happened. After a few seconds of stillness, I could hear voices in the distance.

Standing up with determination, I headed to my room and grabbed my replica of Aragorn’s sword. Wielding the weapon to defend myself from potential intruders, I headed outside to where the noise originated from.

In the darkness of the night, I noticed a beam of light from a torch someone was holding. I recognized the hatted figure and the one next to him.

“Hey!” I shouted, startling them both. “What’s going on here?”

“Jesus, put that down!” The taller one said, taking a step back.

“Dusty, what’s he doing here?” I asked my brother, ignoring the other one.

“I’m-“ The latter replied, but I shoved him a little.

“I’m not talking to you, Harrington” I glared at him, trying to warn him. “Get away from my brother”

“No, Y/N, I asked him to come” Dustin defended him. “It’s okay”

“Yeah, what’s your problem?” Harrington mumbled in outrage, but he stood back when I pointed the sword his direction again. “Whoa, hey, watch it!”

“My problem is that you’re an asshole” He used to hang out with Tommy and Carol, and even if they had drifted apart, I didn’t believe him to be any better than them. “And I don’t like you being around my little brother”

Dustin tried to calm me down by pushing my sword arm down. I still eyed Harrington, secretly enjoying the cautious look he was giving me.

“Is that an actual sword?” He asked instead, probably trying to pretend he wasn’t intimidated.

“Yeah, from Lord of the Rings” Dustin proudly replied, grinning widely.

“You’re a nerd too?” The other exclaimed in surprise.

“Where do you think he got it from?” I replied, patting my brother’s head.

“Look, don’t tell mom” He told me gravelly, which wasn’t a great start. “But I think I’ve been harboring an evil creature”

“A what now?”

“Dart, I think he was evil”

“Dart? Who’s-” Was that the name he had given this new pet he was talking about? Nevermind, that wasn’t important. “How can you know that it was evil?”

“Because it ate Mews”

“Mews?! But mom is looking for him at the other side of town!”

“Exactly, that’s why I needed Steve’s help”

“Son of a bitch, Dustin!” I complained, eyeing Harrington as he wielded his bat. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because! I didn’t want to freak you out, and you were in the library so…”

“Okay, sorry to interrupt this cute little family moment but…” Harrington knocked his bat against the closed doors that led to the basement. “Are you opening this or not?”

Dustin nodded, giving him the key, so he could reveal the inside of the cellar. The three of us stood there in silence for a moment until Harrington took a step forward.

“Not so fast, dumbass” I said, planting a hand on his chest and pushing him back. “I’m going first”

“What, why?”

“Because I don’t trust you, that’s why”

Harrington rolled his eyes at me and rested a hand against his hip in annoyance. I ignored him and entered the cellar, sword in hand. I walked slowly down the steps, glad that they were illuminating my way with their flashlight.

I suddenly yelped when I stepped on something slippery that made me fall. I landed with a thud that accompanied the clinking noise of the blade against the floor.

“Shit!” Harrington uttered, rushing to my aid. “You okay?”

“Y/N?” Dustin asked from the entrance too as Steve pulled me up.

“I’m fine!” I told them both, swatting him away. “It’s fine…”

Ignoring his exasperated sigh, I went to turn the light bulb on by pulling at the chord. The room was now flooded in the dim yellowish light. Harrington crouched down and used his bat to pick up what I had slipped with. I grimaced in disgust at the gross viscous substance hanging from it.

“Shit” Dustin muttered, examining whatever that thing was as he joined us.

“What is that?” I asked, watching how it dripped to the ground.

“Dart” My brother half-questioned, looking up at me.

“What kind of pets are you keeping, Dusty?” I uttered in outrage, eyeing him.

However, I walked away from them when I noticed something. There was an opening at the other end of the cellar, one that shouldn’t be there. I knelt down on the ground to examine it, but it was too dark to see anything.

“Um…” I piped up, trying to gather their attention. “What the hell is this?”

“Oh, shit” Dustin repeated as they both walked closer to see it.

Steve directed the beam of light to the opening, where we could see a tunnel.

-

After our little discovery, we came into the house to discuss how to approach the situation. While Steve and Dustin paced up and down, debating their next movement, I ended up falling asleep in the couch. When I woke up it was day already and last night’s events almost felt unreal.

I jumped to my feet, dropping something on the process, which I realized was Harrington’s jacket. I rolled my eyes at his poor attempt at getting on my good side and grabbed it as I stomped over to Dustin’s room. No one was there, and I hated to think that my little brother was alone with Steve Harrington.

I looked under the bed for his walkie-talkie and pressed the button, growing more anxious by the second. Especially when I remembered there was some sort of strange creature roaming around and they were going after it.

“Dusty, do you copy?” I paused, but insisted when I had no answer. “It’s Y/N, please respond if you copy. Over”

There was only static for several seconds until his voice came next.

“I copy, Y/N” I intently listened to his voice, but he seemed to sound unharmed. “I’m with Steve”

“Where the hell are you? I don’t want you chasing after some weird thing with only him to protect you”

“Um, yeah, I’m right here” Steve interrupted us, and I rolled my eyes just at his voice.

“Good” I told him, then pretending he wasn’t even there. “Answer me, Dustin, where are you?”

“We’re going to the old junkyard. But we got it under control, you can-“

“No way” I spoke to the walkie-talkie, already heading outside. “I’m on my way, over”

I wish I could take a weapon with me like Harrington had his bat with nails, but the closest thing I had to that was the Lord of the Rings sword, and it was blunt. I just hoped for the best and hurried to the car to get to them as soon as possible.

-

When I arrived, Dustin and Steve weren’t alone. Lucas was there too, along with a girl that I had never seen before. I supposed that was Max, the girl Dustin had told me about.

As I approached, Steve smiled at me as a peace offering, but I still didn’t like him. I had heard too many shitty things about him to trust him in the slightest. So I just ignored him, heading straight for the two boys hiding behind a rundown car.

“Hey, Lucas” I said, earning a ‘hi, Y/N’ from him. “Dusty, what are you two doing?”

“We’re talking, do you mind?” My brother complained, so I scowled at him a little and backed away.

I looked at Steve and the girl, wondering why the hell they were moving metallic plaques over to the outside of the bus. Still, I knew it had to do with the thing we found on our cellar and I didn’t like it one bit.

“Hey, Y/N” Harrington showed me a smile that I assumed pretended to be charming.

“Nice try, asshole” I tossed him the jacket, making him drop the plaque he was holding in order to catch it.

“What? I was just…”

“You’re gonna have to try a little harder than that”

“There’s just no pleasing you”

“You can always stop trying”

I heard a small laugh and was reminded of the girl’s presence there, so I approached her and forgot about Steve. I did smirk, though, when he walked away muttering to himself.

“Hi, I’m Y/N” I held my hand out for her to shake. “Dustin’s my brother”

“I’m Max” She replied, giving my hand a firm shake before dropping it.

“So Max, can you tell me what’s going on exactly?”

“As far as I understood, we’re trying to bait something with that” She pointed to the ground, where I noticed pieces of raw meat. “This ‘demogorgon’ from another dimension or something”

I frowned, completely baffled. I had heard that word before, but from Dusty’s D&D sessions. I opened my mouth to reply, but she was already walking away. Determined to confront Dustin about this whole thing, I walked over to him, just to see that Harrington had beat me to it.

“Hey, dickheads” He called them, slamming a rusty old chair against the car they hid behind. “How come the only one to help me is this random girl?”

They reluctantly followed after him, but I grabbed Steve by the arm. I wasn’t going to let him treat them like that.

“Don’t insult Lucas and my little brother” Before he could retaliate, I continued speaking. “In fact, don’t insult people, you jerk”

“I was just… I didn’t actually…” He bitterly chuckled and shook his head. “You’re such a joy, Henderson. Can’t wait to spend hours trapped with you on a small bus”

“Yeah, try to survive without looking at yourself in a mirror for so long”

He scoffed at me before carrying on with what he was doing. I walked over to Dustin and nudged him.

“Did that asshole say something to you?” I gravely asked, imagining lots of scenarios in which he gave my brother some really bad ideas.

“Huh?” Understanding what I was getting at, he shook his head. “No, he just gave me advice”

“Advice on what?”

“Girls…”

“Yeah, I’m sure it was great advice” I sarcastically replied, looking Harrington up and down in annoyance.

“What’s your problem with him?” Dustin complained. “Did he do something to you or something?”

“Not really, but I kept hearing all these things about him and… I just don’t think he’s a good influence, okay?” I rolled my eyes, hating to have to justify myself. “Besides, you didn’t like him either!”

“That was before” My brother began walking towards the bus. “I think he changed”

“Yeah, right…” I noticed Harrington was leaning on the bus, waiting for us. “Still don’t trust him”

“C’mon, slackers” He clapped his hands to hustle us. “It’ll be dark soon”

“Fine” I let Dustin go in first, but following close behind. “Just don’t stand too close to me. Wouldn’t want to catch any of the dumbass”

“Clever” Harrington muttered, walking in after me and closing the bus door behind him. “Come up with it on your own?”

I mockingly smiled at him, sitting down on the ground far away from where he settled in. Max occupied one of the worn out seats, lazily pointing up to the hole that led to the roof to tell us that Lucas was there keeping watch.

While it got dark, I found myself in a pensive mood. All of that was still crazy, the fact that just some hours ago I had been studying in the library like any other day and now we were waiting for some strange creatures that we had baited there to ambush.

I got back to reality when I noticed Dustin paced up and down. He was turning to the girl to reply to something she had told him, but he was being pretty rude to her.

Done with his outburst, Max went to stay up on the roof with Lucas. If that was his attempt to get her to like him, my brother was very wrong.

“Dusty!” I scolded him, but he just shrugged and continued pacing.

“Showing you don’t care, huh?” Harrington smirked at him.

“I don’t” Dustin replied simply, barely acknowledging him.

The other winked an eye at him, and I just knew that he had told him to treat her like that.

“Why are you winking, dumbass?” I kicked him in the knee, having to hold back a smirk when he let out a long ‘ouch!’ in response. “That was terrible advice”

“What do you know?” Closing the zippo he had been playing with, he defiantly stared.

“I know that if you want someone to like you, that’s not the way to go, okay?” I leaned forward, challenging him to talk back to me. “Being kind and thoughtful is”

“You’re an expert on that, aren’t you, Henderson?”

“That’s because I don’t like you” I said slowly, trying to let the words sink in. “Stop teaching my brother bad lessons”

With that, Harrington looked up to the inside of the bus. It was now empty.

“Wait, where is he?” We both ran to the window, watching Dustin outside.

“He probably got fed up with our arguing” Harrington observed, barely letting me see as he took all the space.

“And whose fault is that?” I rushed to the door, but felt a hand tugging at my arm. “Hey, they’re not even here yet”

“I don’t care” I broke free from his grasp and opened the bus door. “If he gets hurt today, I’m blaming you”

“What?! But he was the one-“ I heard him slapping his hands against his sides in exasperation seeing as I was ignoring him.

Dustin turned at the sound of the door opening. Our eyes met, and I silently asked him to come back with a gesture. My brother nodded, sinking his hands inside his pockets, and returned to us seeing that we were done fighting.

“Uh… Henderson?” Harrington spoke up, just as Dustin entered.

“What?” We both replied at the same time, soon realizing what he meant when a growling echoed around the junkyard.

“They’re here, but…” Steve nervously shook his head. “They’re not taking the bait”

“That doesn’t make sense” Dustin intervened, looking up at me to explain. “I thought…”

We both jumped when Harrington quickly moved around.

“What are you doing?” I questioned him when he turned to us.

“Just get ready” He tossed the zippo to Dustin and grabbed his bat.

“Steve…” Dustin uttered, watching him leave the bus.

“What…? Harrington, get back in here!” I whisper-yelled, even if he ignored me and closed the door again. “He’s gonna get himself killed”

Max had come down, so the three of us went for the windows to see what Harrington did. He stood outside, taunting the demogorgon as he slowly advanced in the fog. Time seemed to go by very slowly as we watched him being there on his own, attracting those things. It felt like it would jump at him at any moment, and I braced myself just in case.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when Lucas called out from above, warning Steve.

“Crap” I muttered when I realized that, indeed, there was more than one.

“Steve!” Dustin ran to the door and opened it all the way. “Abort, abort!”

He took a look around, taking notice of the many creatures that surrounded him, and stepped back. We anxiously watched as he dodged one of them and swung his bat at another one, making a run for it when he got the chance. We encouraged him, urging him to run, until he made it in safely and Dustin quickly slammed the door shut.

Steve caught his breath, lying down on the ground, as he recovered. I gulped as I him, tapping his arm to check he was unharmed. I was distracted, though, hearing those things getting closer.

“Watch out!” I said when the demogorgons started banging against the door.

Steve grabbed a metallic plaque and set it against the door, keeping it in place with his feet. He swore under his breath when they banged it again, and I threw all my weight over it to try and help keep them out.

The bus violently shook, making us all yelp in alarm. I squeaked when they managed to break through the door, but Harrington was already prepared.

“Watch the kids!” He told me, sticking by the door with his bat.

I ushered the three of them closer to me, holding on to them and taking them with me to the other end of the bus. Dustin was desperately trying to get ahold of someone with the walkie-talkie while Max and Lucas stood closely together.

“Y/N…” The latter claimed my attention, and when I looked at him I noticed he was glancing up. Max screamed, and I resisted the urge to do too.

“No!” I pushed them all behind me after I saw a demogorgon creeping on us from above.

“Outa the way, outa the way!” Steve was with us in a heartbeat, wielding his bat.

Protectively standing before us, he attentively watched the creature, ready to strike. It growled once more, and I couldn’t contain a cry this time, feeling myself shaking. We were locked in a bus, surrounded by those horrible things that would no doubt kill us.

The bus then wobbled before the silence established. The change from tension to stillness was jarring, but I welcomed the calm. I put a hand on top of Dustin’s head, over his hat, wanting him to look at me. Without any words, he nodded rapidly to assure he was okay. I noticed his eyes shifted to Max and Lucas, who were holding hands, and I frowned at the sight.

I really wanted to comfort Dustin about it, but it was not the time for that. We had bigger things to worry about.

Moving cautiously, nearly afraid to make any sound whatsoever, we neared the door. Steve, always at the front, opened it slowly. They weren’t around the bus anymore.

“Are they gone?” I dared to ask, shuddering when my voice abruptly interrupted the loud quietness.

“Think so” Max replied behind me, although shakily.

“What… happened?”

“Steve scared them off?”

“No, no way” The aforementioned was already outside, but he turned to us and rested the bat on his shoulder. “They’re going somewhere”

There was a pause in which we all looked at each other. I tried not to freak out thinking that we had lucked out to come out alive.

“Alright” I took a deep breath, realizing like the feeling of imminent death was gone now. “Everyone okay?”

“Yeah” The kids lowly replied, soberly nodding their heads.

“Wait” I tapped Harrington on the shoulder when he began walking. “Where are you going?”

“We’re following them” He replied, gesturing in that direction, like it was obvious.

“Are you out of your mind?”

“We can’t let them hurt anyone”

“Y-Yeah, but we barely made it!”

“No one’s asking you to come anyway”

“I’m not just… leaving you guys now!”

Steve motioned for me to get going with a head movement and took a step forward without looking back. I sighed in resignation, knowing there was no going back now.

I watched Harrington as he walked, bat against his shoulder. I was suddenly unable to avert my eyes in awe of what I had just witnessed. That jerk, who had picked up fights with Jonathan Byers when his brother went missing, who always thought he was better than anyone and looked down on people. That jerk had just risked his life, several times, in order to protect us. Willingly. He had valiantly fought those things while we stayed behind in the safety of the bus. He had surprised me, doing selfless things I never thought a self-absorbed asshole like him was capable of.

“Y/N?” Dustin tugged at my hand, interrupting my train of thought. “You alright?”

“Yeah…” I lied, since I was feeling a headache coming. “You, little guy?”

“I’m fine…” He assured, even if it wasn’t really convincing.

“Wanna talk?” I offered while we walked, knowing he was still upset about Max.

“Not really” He shrugged one shoulder. “There’s not much I can do, is it? I think she made up her mind”

While Harrington was at the front, Lucas and Max were walking side by side after all. They seemed really close, and I understood that it bothered Dustin if he was interested in her too.

“Well, that’s very mature of you” I fondly put an arm over his shoulders and shook him a little. “But hey, I’m sure you’ll find an amazing girl who loves you just the way you are”

“You’re just saying that” He feebly kicked a rock on the floor, sending it flying forward.

“I mean it, just be patient” I let go of him, ruffling his hat and his hair. “Life surprises us, you’ll find someone you vibe with”

“Can you tell me when?” Dustin tiredly asked, looking up at me.

As we continued walking, I felt someone watching me. I turned to find Steve’s brown eyes fixed on me. However, when I reciprocated the glance, he frowned and looked away.

“When you least expect it, I guess…”

-

The evening had been absolutely crazy. After we were nearly attacked by those demogorgon things, we followed them to Hawkins lab, where we met Jonathan and Nancy. It was crazy, Hopper and Joyce were there too, with Will and Mike. Apparently, Will was sick somehow and we all went to the Byers house to try and cure him.

Once there, I spoke to Nancy and Jonathan, who explained the whole thing. I was still having a hard time believing things like another dimension called ‘the upside down’ and a creature they called ‘the shadow monster’ were real. But I was willing to stay with Dustin, to protect him and look after the kids. I had said it before, I wasn’t going to abandon them now.

“You okay?” Steve’s voice startled me so much that I noticeably jumped.

“Y-Yeah” I muttered, lowering my hand when I realized I had been biting my nails.

“Here” He said, taking his jacket off and offering it to me. “You’re shaking”

“I’m not scared” I said, facing my back to him in annoyance.

“I didn’t say you were scared” Not giving up, Harrington moved to face me again. “Just that you’re shaking”

He offered me the jacket again, and I honestly welcomed the thought. This nervous shivering was partially because of the cold, but the comforting feeling of the extra layer was appealing. I stared at Steve as I took his jacket, not breaking eye contact when I put it on.

“What?” He asked, uncomfortable under my scrutiny.

“It looks like you’re not that much of a jerk after all, Harrington” I smiled, surprised by this sweet side of him. “At least you seem to have a heart”

Not only had he protected us all back in the bus, but also even offer himself as bait. And after all, I hadn’t seen him with those jerks friends of his again. Maybe Steve wasn’t as bad as I thought.

“Spare me the little speech” He smirked, causing me to chuckle a little.

“Gladly” I huddled under his jacket, welcoming the warmth.

He then nodded, leaving with a last soft smile in my direction. Everything started feeling a little better now.

“Hey” I called him, averting my gaze when he turned to me again. “Your advice is still terrible…”

“Y/N, c’mon” Steve complained, throwing his hands up in the air.

“What I mean is…” I rushed to say, implying that I meant no harm. “Even if it’s terrible, thanks for taking care of my brother”

“Sure, the little shit’s cool” Harrington coolly leaned on the wall.

“Where do you think he gets it from?” I replied, making him laugh a little.

I tiredly leaned on the wall as well, feeling a throbbing headache at all the new information I learned that day. It was so overwhelming and, honestly, kind of terrifying.

“You sure you’re okay?” Steve insisted, gently fondling my arm.

“Yeah, just got a headache” I rubbed my forehead, feeling a bit lightheaded as well. “Always get one when I’m anxious”

“You don’t have to do this, you know?”

“What do you mean? Do what?”

“Pretend like you’re fine. I guess you do it for Dustin, I don’t know, but he can take it”

I stared at him, wondering if he knew how hard I tried to be strong for him. For him, for mom, even for myself. I was the oldest sibling, it was my responsibility.

I patted Steve’s shoulder, nodding at his surprisingly wise words. Briefly looking over to Dustin sitting with his friends, I heaved a sigh. I hated to admit it, but Harrington was right. My brother was smart, and strong. If he could take the demogorgons, he could take me being a little overwhelmed.

“I think I’m gonna lie down” I told Steve, pointing at one of the couches. “Just for one sec”

“Good idea” He grinned, patting my back. “I’ll hold the fort for you”

“Tell Dusty not to worry” That said, I feebly walked to the couch and plopped down there.

I knew it was almost impossible for me to fall asleep, and I didn’t want to anyway. But I closed my eyes to rest my heavy eyelids and weary mind.

-

Barely realizing I had actually fallen asleep, I was abruptly awoken by loud noises. I had run to see if everyone was safe, just to be stopped by Steve, who held his arm before me.

“What’s going on?!” I exclaimed, holding on to his arm since he still wouldn’t let me pass.

Everyone stood around, apparently expecting something. Hopper and Nancy wielded shotguns, Steve held on to his bat and Lucas had his slingshot at the ready. They all watched the windows, barely even blinking.

“They’re coming” Mike replied ominously, making eye contact.

“What-?” I tried to walk closer to the window, but everyone scolded me for it.

Luckily, Steve’s arm blocked my path still, and he gently pushed me back.

“Stay behind me” He muttered, pressingly tugging at my sleeve. “Behind me, Y/N!”

“Okay, okay!” I obliged, positioning myself behind him and holding on to Dustin’s arm to keep him close.

While Hopper, Nancy, Lucas and Steve wielded their weapons, the rest of us stood behind them. I held on to Steve’s shoulders, still not letting go of my brother to assure he lingered by my side. Jonathan and Joyce were at my right, and he held on to my shoulder.

Noises erupted outside, causing us all to turn to the sound and scream. I clung on to Steve and Dustin when my heart started racing. And then something went through the window.

I squeaked, pushing my brother closer to me and protectively wrapping both arms around him. When we looked, we saw it was a demogorgon, but it wasn’t moving. What…?

“Shit…” I uttered when the door suddenly started unlocking, keeping us tense.

It then opened to reveal a young girl all dressed in black. I panicked thinking who she could be, yet everyone seemed to relax at the sight of her. 

READ PART 2 NOW!

Tag list: (Stranger Things) @xionroxas, @raararasputin, @welcome-here-in-my-world, @suenami3, @bitchingpretty​, @xxsirensong (Steve) @24-stilinski​  // If you want to be added or taken off the tag list, let me know!!

[ellanainthetardis]

“Let’s Wing It!” Fic Exchange (third wave)

This is my third entry for the “Let’s Wing It!” Fic Exchange. @titconao3 prompted “Running Up That Hill” by Kate Bush (lyrics here).

It was hard! Haha! You said no downer ending by your standards so I did my best! There is no downer in this ending. I hope you like this and that I didn’t fail too much at writing God ;)

[ff] or [ao3]

A Good Old Case Of Deus Ex Machina

He hadn’t stopped drinking since the funerals.

Not that it did him any good, downing bottle after bottle only gave him a small buzz at best. His powers seemed to be stronger than ever and getting drunk wasn’t an option. Another cruelty to add to the list.

Without warning, he threw the glass at the mirror on the other side of the bar with a helpless cry of rage nobody was there to witness. There it was again. Every time he closed his eyes. The memory he was desperate to forget, the one he could never ignore.

Chloe dying in his arms. Blood everywhere, all over his hands. The roaring pain in his shoulder that hadn’t made sense at the time not until a tearful Dan had pried him away from her body and had forced him to sit down, repeating again and again ‘Lucifer, you’ve been shot’ as if it had made any sense. As if anything had made any sense.

Lux was deadly silent, as it had been for a week now, and, once he reached for another glass behind the bar, there was only the familiar noise of alcohol being poured to keep him company. At another time, it might have been enough to be comforting. Now…

Now, it was simply a noise that grated on his nerves. The same way he could barely bear the sound of his lighter flicking on. The same way he had raged and upturned tables until everyone had run out that night after the funerals because nobody should be partying right now, the whole world should be mourning, the whole universe should have stopped breathing with the strength of his grief.

He wanted it to stop.

He wanted to stop it.

And in the darkest moments of despair he wondered if that was it, the apocalypse prophesized since the dawn of time, brought into being by the death of one human.

He had almost followed on that thought.

He downed the glass of whatever it was. Whiskey or scotch, something expensive that tasted like ash. Everything tasted like ash since that day.

It had been so stupid. So stupid.

A call had come through her radio when they were driving back to the precinct at the end of a most satisfying day of catching murderers. A man who had mugged a grocer’s shop and was running away. They were in the neighborhood, they had given chase, eventually leaving the car behind to follow on foot when the suspect had rushed into a building. It had been thrilling at the time and, of course, Lucifer hadn’t listened to her demand that he stayed in the car. He had followed her and she had rolled her eyes but hadn’t protested much more.

They had cornered him eventually, their suspect. Barely more than a kid, not quite seventeen, threatening them with a weapon he could barely hold the right way. The Detective hadn’t even pulled out her own gun. She had tried to reason with him.

Neither of them had seen the second man hiding in the shadow.

One shot and the Detective had gone down, Lucifer catching her out of reflex. He hadn’t understood the second shot had found its mark, not until Dan had later told him. ‘Lucifer, you’ve been shot. Let them take care of you. Let her go. You can’t do anything for her anymore. You’ve been shot. Let her go. You’re hurt.’ Nothing had made sense. Nothing.

Just the terror.

He wasn’t sure what had happened to the two murderers. He had lost it at that point, everything had flashed red, his eyes, his face, his sight… The kid had been huddling in one corner begging for his mother by the time the LAPD had stormed in. The other one, the one who had shot his detective… Nobody had asked him how that one had died. He probably had Dan to thank for that.

He had tried to keep her there with him. He had tried so hard. He had done it before, on their first case together, and he had told her that, he had joked about how this felt like a throwback to a first date and she had laughed. She had laughed and then she had… His powers had always been tenuous around her. Lately, they had been downward inexistent.

Her soul wouldn’t stay.

It had slipped through his fingers, right through his fingers…

He rubbed his shoulder where the scar remained, a thick patch of angry red skin. He wasn’t sure why it wasn’t fading. It should have. Without the Detective, he had healed in a few minutes – to the paramedics puzzlement. The scar had remained behind, like a reminder. Maybe it was his unconscious. Maybe he wanted to keep it. To make sure he never forgot. As if he could.

He felt her loss as keenly as he had the wings on his back.

Another glass.

The same noises of alcohol being poured, a bottle being placed down. The cigarette was slowly consuming itself between his fingers.

He had tried to pray.

He hadn’t told anyone that. Well… He had yelled it at Linda in a rage when she hadn’t stopped poking, trying to make him talk about feelings that made him want to howl.

He had begged his father when he had realized his powers weren’t working, that Chloe would die there, in a shady squat full of graffiti and abandoned syringes. He had begged his father for help, had promised anything in return. His mother, hell, anything. There had been no answer. None at all. Even once she had been gone, even once he had stopped begging Him to save her and had started requesting to swap their places, his soul off the human plane for her soul back in her body, even then, all that had answered him was a great silence.

Typical.

Typical.

The creaking of the doors alerted him but he refused to look behind his shoulder. It might be the bouncers checking everything was alright inside, it might be someone coming to check on him. He really didn’t care.

He took a drag of his cigarette just because he was tired of watching it burn on itself like a pathetic metaphor for his life.

He missed the rage. He had been so full of wrath in the immediate aftermath he had almost burn with it. For days he had let it consume him. He had hated his Father, first and foremost, for giving him the Detective only to take her away.

He had stormed into his mother’s office and had declared he was all about finding that last piece now, that he would be her Lightbringer – and he had had no problem igniting the sword, not anymore – that he would make the Silver City crumble down.

He had dreamed about it. For days he had dreamed about it. Running up the golden hill that led to the huge doors, tearing them open and destroying everything on his path until he found Chloe. Sometimes that dream took the form of a rescue mission. Sometimes all he cared about was burning Heaven to the ground until they all understood the amount of pain he was in.

Sometimes he hated the Detective too. For dying. For being so fragile. For making him into the devil he now was – which wasn’t much of a devil at all.

That was the thing with humans. One second they were complaining about their demon roommate who couldn’t follow simple instructions, the next they were gone from the surface of the Earth, never to be seen again because their soul was too pure and he had been banned from Heaven.

He had pretended it didn’t hurt him at first. It hadn’t lasted a day for denial to disappear. It hurt him. Her death. It hurt him so much he could taste blood.

The thought of never seeing her again, he couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t.

“This is a nice place.”

The voice wasn’t familiar and Lucifer only gave a glance over his shoulder before looking away just as fast. The man who was walking down the stairs was young, wearing jeans with holes in them that didn’t seem to be there for fashion purposes and an awful woolen sweater in a rusty color. He was unremarkable, unassuming and absolutely not worth noticing.

“We’re closed.” Lucifer growled, his fingers tightening around his glass.

“I heard.” the man shrugged.

It didn’t stop him from strutting to the bar, apparently unconcerned with the slight clicking of the bottles and glasses as they shook with Lucifer’s wrath.

He didn’t want to be disturbed.

He had made that clear. His control was all relative and just because he had been talked out of going on a murdering spree by an eight year old girl didn’t mean he wouldn’t accidentally do something he would regret if he was provoked. The man was blissfully oblivious to it all though. He hopped on the stool next to his, reached behind the bar for a glass and stole the bottle right from under Lucifer’s nose.

“I said we’re closed.” he repeated, putting just enough of his real voice in his tone to send any human weeping in fear.

The man barely blinked. “You have looked better.”

Maybe not so human. He so wasn’t in the mood for celestial meddling.

The wrath deflated though. Like it had done every time it had bloated again since his talk with Trixie. Being furious was easier on a lot of accounts, it helped mask the pain underneath but… He had felt it now, that pain, and he could never shake it.

His shoulder throbbed as if in agreement and he rubbed it again, almost without thought.

“Have we met before?” he snorted, giving the man a second glance over. He wasn’t one of his siblings but who knew what his father had been up to since he had left Heaven. Maybe he was a new prophet or – God forbids – a new Jesus. It would explain the slightly hippy look. That would also go hand in hand with his decision to ransack Heaven, maybe he was there to spread the news or to prevent him from doing just that. If it was about that, the guy was a little late to the party but Lucifer supposed he should get kudos for having tried.

“Has it been so long you don’t recognize me, Samael?” the man asked casually before taking a sip of whiskey.

Lucifer’s head shot up so fast something in his neck snapped.

He stared at the man, stared hard, and he could almost see it, see the bright ball of light peeking out through the cracks.

“Father.” he whispered.

His first instinct was to find a weapon.

His second was to think sod that and punch Him hard in the unremarkable face He had chosen for Himself.

His third one was to grab Him and refuse to let go until He had given back what wasn’t His to take. Maybe threaten to call Charlotte if that would speed up the process, maybe gloat a little about walking unarmed into the devil’s den.

In the end he did none of that.

He just sat there and stared.

At another time, he would have done it all and then some.

Right then, nothing seemed important but the fact that his father was the key to getting to Chloe. Perhaps He would agree to let him talk to her. Perhaps he could tell her that he…

He would make a deal for that chance. Talk to her one last time. Tell her how he felt. Tell her how grateful… If he only could…

“I heard you were thinking of popping up to give me back your sister’s sword.” his father commented when Lucifer remained silent, there was a hint of teasing in his voice.

“If by giving it back you mean stabbing you straight through the heart with it.” he snarled before he could help himself.

“But you didn’t.” God hummed as if they were simply discussing the weather instead of His – admittedly uncertain – murder. “In fact, I believe you told your mother you weren’t interested in taking the Silver City back anymore.”

He closed his eyes and sighed. It always came right back to this, didn’t it? What his parents wanted, their agendas against each other… They didn’t care about anything else, about anyone else.

He felt the familiar anger rise up but it was snuffed by the grief he felt. What did he care about his father’s vendetta against him or about the rocky relationship his parents shared? The whole thing paled in comparison to the Detective’s death.

He had been set on following his mother’s plans. He had been set on taking back what was his… And how he had shouted and screamed when Linda had asked if it was really what Chloe would have wanted… ‘Once I control Heaven, I will bring her back to life! Of course, it’s what she would want’, he had snarled.

And then the Detective’s spawn had happened, asking him in that small tearful voice how Heaven was and if her mother was happy there. And right as he had described the splendors of paradise for the girl and how content Chloe must have been, he had realized that no, no, his storming of the Silver City wasn’t at all what she would have wanted. She was at peace, he had promised the child and he had meant it. The Detective didn’t need a dashing rescue, not this time.

“The sword is in the safe upstairs.” he answered, waving a dismissive hand that left a trail of smoke in its wake.

“You won’t try to bargain for it?” his father asked, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

Before, he would have taken pleasure in having taken Him aback. Right then, pleasure tasted just as much like ash as his liquor did.

“I would try to strike a deal for it but we both know you will only give what you consent to give so what’s the point?” he scoffed, tossing the cigarette in the ashtray before it could burn him. Not that it would burn him. He was invulnerable again now. “You could have sent one of your errant boys. Granted, it didn’t end up that well for Uriel but…” He shrugged, trying to sound more casual than he truly felt. His brother’s death still weighted heavily on his mind. What he had done, he had done to protect Chloe but it didn’t make it easier to bear. “You still have enough children left to sacrifice a few, don’t you?”

God was watching him thoughtfully, tracing the rim of his glass with a distracted finger.

Lucifer didn’t look at him.

He didn’t want to look at him.

He had been eager to find himself face to face with his father for millenniums, to tell Him straight everything he thought of Him, and now he couldn’t care less. He just wished He would hurry up and leave so he could go back to feeling miserable in peace.

“I did not send your brother, son. He came of his own free will.” God offered eventually.

“Free will.” he spat. “The greatest joke in the universe.”

Did it even exist? Or were they all dancing to His tune? Even him who had thought he had escaped the strings only to fall back in the trap when he had met the Detective…

“I grieve for Uriel.” his father said softly. “But what happened wasn’t entirely your fault, Samael. He bears responsibility for his fate.”

“Don’t call me that.” he growled. “I am not Samael anymore, Dad. I am…”

“You still call me Dad.” God cut him off. “And I still call you son. You are still my son. Samael, the Light Bringer, the Morning Star. It is the name your mother and I gave you.”

“And I changed it when you kicked me out.” he retorted. “So excuse me if I’m not…”

“You called for me.” his father interrupted again with that strength that could have sent the world to its knees and made Lucifer fall silent to his great annoyance. His father was more powerful than he was. It didn’t come as a surprise but it was an unwelcome reminder of his failures.

“Yes, and you didn’t come.” he snapped. “You didn’t help.”

“I am here now.” God offered. “Don’t you think it’s time to mend bridges, son?”

His hand was shaking when he stole the bottle back to pour himself another drink. The bottle was almost empty now and he was feeling the urge to bash the man’s head in with it. It wouldn’t do Him much harm but it would be a relief.

He downed his glass, not trusting himself to speak right then. There was a lump in his throat, a headache throbbing behind his eyes and, tried as he might, he couldn’t summon the rightful anger he ought to feel. A shame for a wrathful devil.

“You gave her to me and then you took her away.” he accused finally, almost flatly. “There are no more bridges. They’re all ash in the wind now.”

“I disagree.” God countered. “You could have besieged the Gates of Heaven, you know there are some who would still follow you over me up there and it could have turned into a civil war. You could have brought down the apocalypse if you had so chosen. And instead you are sitting in your bar, crying in your whiskey.”

“I wasn’t crying.” he hissed through his teeth. Not a lie. Not really. The tears never fell but inside… Oh inside it was a waterfall.

His father ignored him. “And all because you promised a little girl your siblings are watching over her mother.” Lucifer frowned and God shrugged. “Omniscient being, here.”

He rolled his eyes. “You should be grateful for that child.”

“Oh, I am grateful.” his father smiled and it was a kind benevolent smile. The kind that made Lucifer scoff at their deceit. “I do love Beatrice. Just as much as I love Chloe Decker. The Detective is an exceptional soul, isn’t she? As far as humans go, she counts amongst my greatest creations.”

Lucifer’s jaw clenched. “Don’t talk about her like that. She’s not a puppet, she’s not… She’s not a toy.”

“Of course, she’s not.” God frowned. “Her purpose…”

“What was her purpose, Father?” he cut Him off, his eyes flashing red. “Why did you put her on my path? To hurt me by taking her away? Congratulations. Objective achieved. Now, please let me hurt in peace.”

“Her purpose was to show you the way back home, Samael.” God explained, in that soft tone Lucifer hated so much. As if He cared. He didn’t. Lucifer knew that better than anyone. “You were never meant to come back to the Silver City armed with a flaming sword. I had hoped she would be enough for you to remember who you are, powerless as she made you feel. You had a choice to make and you made the right one. The Gates of Heaven are opened to you should you choose to come back.”

He gripped the glass so tight that it broke but he didn’t notice. He didn’t notice the shards digging in his palm or the blood. In a second it had all vanished anyway.

“So it was all a test?” he chuckled bitterly. “You put Chloe on my path so you could… Test me?”

“She showed you the way to redemption.” his father insisted. “And now you can come home and…”

“I hate you.” he spat.

“That’s the first lie you’ve ever uttered.” God dismissed, amused. When Lucifer glared, He simply shrugged. “Again. Omniscient being.”

Lucifer briefly closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure at which point he had lost his human face for his devil one. He wasn’t sure at which point his eyes had started burning red. But he was very sure he was about to lose it in a spectacular way.

The bottles and glasses were rattling again.

“Get out.” he ordered. “Take your sword. Take your piece. Take your ex if you must but get out.” He was shouting now, his voice a low growl that bounced back on the walls. “I am never coming back to your Silver City, Father. Never. I will go back to Hell before I come back to you. I won’t be your prodigal son. I won’t follow your schemes. And if it means I never see the Detective again…” He stopped breathing for a second, closed his eyes. “Do not presume to understand what I feel for her. You cast your own wife down to Hell on a whim. You manipulate everyone around you. You are a sick bastard who understands nothing about love and I won’t give you the pleasure of patting me on the back as if it was all a tantrum on my part. I am done with you, Father, I am utterly done with you. I will not hate you anymore. I will not curse you. I will not even think about you. I am done.”

He was out of breath by the time he finished and he felt strangely empty. A good sort of empty. He would have to ask Linda about that. He felt… Free.

“As you wish.” God sighed, a little sad, as if He was humoring him, as if He was certain that Lucifer would come home at one point or another. “What I said still stands, you are welcome back.” His father stood up slowly, probably hoping he would stop Him or hold Him back. Lucifer did neither. He stared at the shards of broken glass on the bar but he did flinch when he felt his father’s hands resting lightly on his back, right where the scars laid. “I forgive you, son.”

The hands were gone before he could shrug them off.

Lux was silent once more.

He was alone.

Lucifer buried his face in his hands, feeling the leather-like burned skin under his palms and wondering how his father could offer an unwanted forgiveness when it was his to grant. There hadn’t even been an apology in that whole conversation. Not one.

What his father thought of as forgiveness, Lucifer called punishment.  

Maybe that was why he wasn’t that surprised when the scars on his back started to burn. He laughed. He laughed when he felt it. He laughed until he screamed, head thrown back to the ceiling, with the pain of it all.

And once he was done screaming, he felt them spanning wide on either side of him, blinding with light, each feather painfully familiar. His.

He didn’t have time to marvel though, because the Lux had disappeared.

He was back in that shady building, the Detective and the teenager were both gaping at him and his heart was beating so fast…

He jumped on her and she shrieked, not that he cared or noticed because he heard the gunshots. Six of them this time around. And six bullets crashed on the impenetrable shield of his wings.

The Detective was all wide eyes, staring at him as if she had never seen him before and he wondered what face he was sporting because he couldn’t tell anymore. She was there. Breathing. Alive. And that was all he cared about.

He heard the teenager and his accomplice running away, the slamming doors and the shouts in the distance indicating backup was on its way… He made a conscious effort to fold the wings, to make them disappear, not sure they would obey…

But they did, just as they always had before.

The Detective blinked and then bolted behind him to touch his back, her hands poking his flesh hard, looking for… He turned around and hugged her, resting his head against hers, eyes closed, breathing her in… He couldn’t even smell the dampness and the rot of the building anymore. She smelled too good.

“I love you.” he heard himself say because that was what he had been desperate to say ever since he had hold her lifeless body in his arms. The moment he had felt her soul slip between his fingers, it had become so clear… But she hadn’t been there to hear it anymore. She hadn’t… “Chloe, I love you.”

She went rigid in his arms until she completely relaxed and hugged back. “Lucifer, what the hell just happened?”

“Poor choice of words, Detective…” he chuckled. It sounded a bit hysterical to his own ears but he decided he was allowed to be a little hysterical. She had been dead for more than a week and now she was there once more. “Let’s just say it is a good old case of deus ex machina.”

“Lucifer…” she insisted.

“I will explain everything.” he promised. He would tell her. The whole truth. He would show her, even. He would tell her he had almost ransacked Heaven for her. He would tell her he loved her again too. He would… “As soon as we’re alone.”

As if on cue, Detective Douche charged in, a worried look on his face that morphed into relief when he found them there. “Thank god! We heard gunshots.”

“Thank God, yes…” Lucifer laughed. They both stared at him as if he was crazy – well, crazier than usual – and there was something strangely protective to the way the Detective was holding on to him.

“Are you alright?” she frowned at him, cupping his cheek.

He covered her hand with his. “Oh, I assure you… I am more than alright. Actually, I even feel a little forgiving today. Only a little, mind you.”

He hugged her again.

Just because he could.

She hesitated a second and then hugged back, leaving Dan to shake his head and watch them both as if they had lost their minds.

[wasabi-duck]

demigod jin

i wasn’t gonna start this au yet but y’all know i’ve been having a rough day and i should probably be taking more me time but i wanna write so i figured if i was gonna write well maybe i should do something i really excited about…

for everyone who has never read percy jackson, first of all, i demand that you read it because that series did a lot for me and it’s still one of my favorite book series and my happy places??

and secondly lemme help with the main idea

basically one of your parents is one of the greek gods, being a child of zeus, poseidon, or hades is really rare, monsters hunt you because you’re a half-blood, and lastly camp half-blood is a place where all the greek half-bloods can go and be protected from the monsters and all??     

so believe it or not, for this au, that’s right, you’re a demigod surprise!! i’m not gonna say who your godly parent is because that’s no fun, but here’s a list if you wanna read up on them and decide! tell me who it is when you come to a decision omg

anyway,,,

jin,,, i hate to be stereotypical but jin is the son of aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty

ever since jin was a small boy he was dripping with good looks and people became constantly enamored with how good looking he was

his dad was a well known fashion designer back home, and so from a young age, jin was also dressed in the most popular and stylish of fashions

like imagine baby jin rocking some like scarves and suspenders and beanies and baby converse omg

and as a toddler he had the fake glasses and all??

because jin’s father is a well known fashion designer, aphrodite was immediately attracted to him

a lot of the gods have flings and they’re like wow you’re attractive, but as soon as the kid is born they kinda roll

partly from necessity too but like

aphrodite really really truly loved jin’s father and she wanted to settle down with baby jin and his father but zeus was like oh no you don’t you’re leaving that mortal right away if we can’t be with those we love, then neither can you

and so she tried her best to stay and visit when she could but by the time jin was like two, she was completely out of his life

jin’s dad did his best to raise his baby boy, he did, but he was always so overwhelmed and caught up in his work that most of the time, jin was cared for by his dad’s secretaries

and when he got old enough, jin really kept to himself

everyone was always intimidated by jin because wow the face of a god from such a young age, and child of the famous designer

that not many people, especially people his age, ever really took the time to talk to jin or get to know him for who he really was

all people seemed to care about was that jin was a pretty face

so a lot of people got the impression that jin was self absorbed and conceited but he really learned from an early age that the only thing people seemed to care about was his looks

okay but jin gets to camp half blood pretty late

i think the average age was around like twelve for rolling up in the camp but jin was fourteen

one of his dad’s older secretaries was actually one of aphrodite’s handmaidens and she always worked behind the scenes to make sure that no monsters harmed jin

but one day as jin was walking home from his preppy elite rich person school, some crazy demented hag monster lady came at him with a cane that looked much more like a sword when jin took the time to look and soon he was running for it down the streets of new york city

luckily the secretary was on her way to pick him up and she packed jin into her car and sped off

she had to quickly explain to jin what a half-blood was and what was chasing them and the entire world of the greek gods and goddesses was real and thriving

jin handled it pretty calmly at first??

he seemed pretty collected as the drove towards camp, because after a bit the monster stopped chasing them

when they finally reached the border of camp, jin hugged the secretary and kissed her head

“you know i always considered you my mom”

and she’s cheering up because she loved jin like her son but this is what’s best for him and she hugs him really tight before ushering him off

another key part of camp half blood is getting claimed by your godly parent

i read the books in fourth grade and so i might forget some of the details but from what i remember your parent claims you by flashing their emblem above your head or something?

it takes jin under a week to get claimed because his mom is like omg my fave son is here!!

she makes it really dramatic too because who would aphrodite be if she wasn’t a drama queen?

like it’s the friday night capture the flag game…

jin is standing with all the hermes kids because that’s where all the unclaimed kdis stay??

and chiron (the centaur dude who runs the camp) is dividing up the teams

and he’s about to call out aphrodite when there’s this flashing light

jin is just kinda standing there obliviously because capture the flag isn’t really his thing, he doesn’t like running around with his dagger and trying to slash people?? he much rather help some of the apollo kids tend to wounds and all??

so he doesn’t even realize the light is coming from above his head and everyone is staring at him

and he kinda defense mechanism “look i know i’m pretty but-”

“spoken like a true son of aphrodite”

and he’s like wait wha- OH OH OH

and he gets all blushy and everyone is cheering at the aphrodite cabin swarms him and pulls him into a group hug

fast forward a few years now

jin is the head of the aphrodite cabin

he’s like super blessed by aphrodite like not only is he super beautiful, but he’s realized he has the gift of charmspeak, which is basically like his voice is so potent that just by speaking, he can get people to do whatever he wants

his charmspeak isn’t the most powerful in the world, but he can still get yoongi, hoseok, namjoon, jimin, and tae to do whatever he wants

only jungkook is invincible to his power

jin is like a camp legend tbh

so obviously you know about him

but you’ve never really talked to him, not really

all of that changes

aphrodite is the goddess of love, need i remind you, and she’s gonna set jin up with you no matter what it takes

it’s the friday capture the game

finally jin found a part he can play

he stands in the buffer zone of the playing arena which is like basically the forest and he helps fix and adjust armor for people who need it

you’ve been running around in enemy territory and someone done bludgeoned you with the butt of their sword and your breastplate is dented and it actually hurts quite a bit

before the moron can hurt you again, you race off to the neutral zone, hoping someone can help you out

wow guess who’s standing there, it’s jin!!

you hurry over to him and start trying to pull the breast plate off but something hurts, badly

you wince and examine your arm only to realize there’s a pretty nasty gash and you’re like when did this-

jin clucks like a mother hen and without thinking grabs your arm to examine the wound

you try to jerk away but he gives you this look “there there, it’s okay, you’re not gonna be problematic are you?”

you kinda freeze and stare at him and it seems like suddenly you’re in a fog and you can’t get out of it?? like you’re in this dreamlike state and you don’t know where it came from but you feel like you’re out of body

but then you snap out of it and kinda-

“that stuff doesn’t work on me pretty boy”

jin’s eyebrows furrow and he purses his lips and you think he might be mad??

but then he starts with the wind shield wiper laugh and soon you’re giggling too??

it takes him like seven hours to catch his breath but when he does he introduces himself and you repeat the gesture and you kinda,,, kinda don’t wanna go back into the game now??

jin won’t let you either because he thinks you’re cute and he doesn’t wanna miss up in this,,, completely random,,, not staged by his mother,,, chance to meet you,,,

so he’s like yah i think you should sit out for a little bit these wounds look really serious

he knows that the apollo kids are supposed to handle this kind of thing but he needs an excuse-

he grabs some gauze and he dabs your wound with like his shirt or something because he’s dumb,,,

and then he wraps your wound but he does such a crappy job of it that the bandages are like five feet thick?? like it’s like there is a balloon on your arm or something…

and when he gets your breast plate off he doesn’t actually know what to do about it so he kinda just awkwardly sets it down on the ground

it’s my own headcanon that there are some old rusty high school bleachers in the middle of the woods for spectators and people who don’t wanna play and jin just kinda invites you over

you two chill on the bottom bleachers and you don’t ever go back into the game because jin is telling you some quality greek puns and you’re in hysterics over them

and even after the game ends you two decide that it’ll be fun to hang out

there’s like a wild camp bonfire after the game and instead of hanging with your cabin you plop down next to jin

the apollo kids are leading with some music and you kinda notice jin humming along and you realize like he has a really really pretty singing voice?

you find yourself tuning everyone out and just listening to him instead…

but then some of his friends stumble over and they look at you and they get these wicked smirks and they’re like ;)))

and jin snaps out of his trance and he starts stammering because yoongi and jungkook are very much interested in who you are

because jin never really talks to people outside bangtan or his cabin so they’re like wiggling their eyebrows

and jin is like omg nO stOp leaVE

and you’re all embarrassed too because maybe they walked over when you were casually leaning against jin’s shoulder…

you kinda excuse yourself and you’re like my cabin is calling my nAME

but the next day

you see jin at the dining hall and you wave and he waves back and after that he shyly comes over and asks if you wanna go to the arts and crafts cabin after breakfast

which you do

the crafts cabin never has a lot of people in it because everyone rather by climbing the lava rock wall or sparring but nah, jin likes the crafts cabin

he brings you in and he’s like

“see that huge tapestry?”

you nod

it really is huge

it’s a dark purple with gold embroidery around the edges and the picture on the  tapestry looks like a goddess up near the top holding a long red string in her hands…

down below is a boy sewn in holding one end of the string but the rest isn’t finished…

jin kinda gets all shy “that’s mine”

and you’re like !!!

because it’s usually the athena kids that make tapestries but this is probably one of the most intricate and detailed ones you’ve ever seen

you go over to inspect it and you’re like wow what aren’t you good at??

you two stay in the crafts cabin and he teaches you how to use the loom and you have to share the stool and he has to guide your hands with his hands and you can feel his breath on the back of your neck… amazing

the next day you suggest you guys hang out again but you’re like i get to pick what we do…

you take jin down to the sparring area and he’s like have you seen me,,, i don’t know how to hold my dagger, let alone use it

and you’re like nah it’ll be fine

you’re wrong

jin has a lot of potential, because he’s broad-shouldered and definitely built for defense

but boy lacks confidence and training because people always assume aphrodite kids don’t want to fight at all

so you’re like lemme help

so you show him how to set his shoulders and how to stand and where to put his weight

you teach him how to jab and slice and block and all of those things i learned from wind waker…

he’s really clumsy you realize??

like when he walks and talks he’s so graceful and godly and poised

but seeing him fight he’s like a chicken with its head cut off and you think it’s so so funny like honey…

he gets all defensive and red in the face and he tries to show you some rad moves and he ends up tripping and falling and scuffing his knees up and you’re like baby omg what it this

you have to go up to the infirmary cabin after that and hoseok is there, being his smiley son of apollo self…

he fixes jins knees up while making really exaggerated winks and smiles at you two

jin is like hoseok please

and hoseok is like hoseok yes

you kinda smile but you’re all blushy and shy and you kinda just give him a look but jin is too busy scolding hoseok to notice

you two do get a lot closer from that and you try your hardest to bring him out of his comfort zone and all the boys note that he’s so much more smiley and confident in his entire self, not just his looks

he i forget what i was gonna say

he gets much better at fighting though and you’re like so proud because you made this happen??

all the aphrodite kids ship you so so hard and whenever any of them see you they’re like hey honorary sister/brother in law and you’re like nO WAIT WHAT

and jin is like haha

i dont know what theyre talking about

haha

hahahaha

and he gets all red and his hands get all clammy and he’s like s/o to my mom for making me fall heads over heels in love,,,

and you’re like what was that jin

and he gets all !! nothing

and you’re kinda suspicious but whatever

you two flirt and get close and all but neither of you wanna convince because demigod things you know…

one day you’re chilling in your cabin and chiron is like yo i need you for a bit

and he drags you to the main cabin and he takes you upstairs and whatever and that’s where the oracle is??

and basically you get this long drawn out prophecy about appeasing hera’s wrath or something??

and you’re kinda in a daze or whatever

because you have never been on a quest before?? it’s always been a low key dream of yours? but you were like nah i would never ever be chosen because i am a small insignificant bean but-

but nah you’re being chosen?? right here right now??

you can;t focus for the rest of the day?/ all you can think about is packing for your quest and who to bring on your-

one answer is obvious to you and you’re like oh

oh

jin

jin is the only one you can think about bringing

usually a quest is three but it could be two…

and you’re all flustered and shy and your heart is racing because you can’t even begin to think about facing the dangers of the mortal world with jin

gotta protect him from ugly monsters

wouldn’t that be the dream?

you don’t wanna tell him right away though because you know he loves being at camp… and you don’t want him to risk his life for your dream

but the entire camp gets wind of your quest

and jungkook is the one to break it to jin and he’s like pal… buddy… guess what, guess who’s going on a quest

and jin is like omg my lill bean congrats!!

and jungkook is like lmao um no

it’s your loVER

and jin just pales and he takes a deep breath because that’s dangerous and risky and you will be unsafe and he will not have this??

without thinking about it twice, he runs to your cabin and barges in even though that’s not really allowed

you’re packing a small bag of everything you might need and jin just kinda stands there awkwardly

“were you gonna tell me?”

you stare up at him and you nod a bit and you open your mouth to speak but jin is rambling now

“look i know i’m not the best fighter and i’m not that tough or brave or resourceful or talented or whatever!but i’m going to protect you no  matter what, so you don’t have a say, you’re going to take me!!”

you smile and inhale sharply

you run into his arms and bury your face in his chest “that stuff doesn’t work on me pretty boy… remember??”

you two hug super tight and it’s really gentle and sweet and then someone walks in and suddenly it’s a lil awkward…

but yes, jin does go on your quest with yoU!! the two of you go together

and yes, he’s there to protect you every step of the way

from spiders, angry killer dandelions, furies, and crazy goddesses too!!

and if you ever get hurt, he’s there to kiss your boo boos better because he loves you

tbh from olympus, aphrodite is collecting bets because you two got together on your own...

[ramblinganthropologist]

“I don’t want to choose between your life or mine. I’d rather have ours.” Cherche/Sten

You want cheese? You get cheese.

Summary: Sten thinks he can leave Ferelden without saying goodbye, but he’s got another thing coming. Well, two things.Pairing: Cherche Mahariel/StenWord count: 1512

We will be leaving at the end ofthe week. Meet at the docks.

The moon overheadtold him it was sometime after midnight, and the stars reminded allwho looked that it was summer once again. If Ferelden had smelledback in the winter, the high heat and humid days had only compoundedit. The whole country stunk of wet dog and garbage, yet the so-calledcitizens either had no nose or had grown used to it.

After a yearamong them, Sten honestly wasn't sure which.

He had spent thebetter part of a week walking through small towns to reach his goal.Now, it loomed ahead of him in faint torch light that gleamed alongthe coast. A dreadnaught had come at last to pick up and survivors.It need not to – he was the only one.

Asala was afamiliar weight on his back, grounding him as he took every step. Asshe slapped against him, it was a reminder of all he still owed tothe barbarian nation. Alone, he would have never found her.

The fact he owedto a small elf was nonwithstanding – the Arishok would hear of it.

It was good tohear his native tongue spoken once more as he approached the barge.The bas' trade language had been hard on his ears and even morestringent on his tongue. Too many sounds to it, his tama had oncetold him when he was small. She had had no idea how right she was.

'Are you the onlyone remaining?' The soldier stationed in the sand looked behind him,perhaps to expect the rest of his group. Their bones were broken andscattered to the winds by now, trampled by darkspawn and farmeralike. It was of no matter anymore.

'The rest aredead.' To his surprise, his Qunlat felt almost rusty on his tongue.Mentally, Sten chided himself – this was no way for him to act.Perhaps the bas had made him softer than he thought. It must havebeen those cookies. Luckily, there were none to be found where he wasgoing.

It would be goodto return to Par Vollen, he thought, as he started to climb up theheavy planks that easily supported his weight. There, to drift backinto duty and the chant of the Qun would help him to focus his mind.Lately it had been... wandering.

At the moment, hecould not tear his thoughts away as he briefly glanced over hisshoulder. Sten wasn't sure what he had expected – perhaps afamiliar head of shocking red hair, or the bobbing of a bow as shewalked. He shook his head again, though. Such foolishness was forchildren.

He knew she couldnot follow. Her ways would not interact with the Qun. As much as Stenwas Qunari, his heart was Dalish. She would never last. It was betterto leave her behind in her forests, where she could be at peace.

'We need to leavesoon. The tide will only hold for so long.'

Of course. Yet,despite himself, Sten heaved a small sigh as he turned to enter theship at last. Once they were away from shore, he was certain his mindwould drift to better thoughts. At least, he hoped it would.

What he hadn'thoped for – or even dreamed about – was what happened next. Asudden explosion of sound and motion drew his eye and the blade ofthe guard stationed on the shore. However, it wasn't stragglers fromthe defeated darkspawn hoard that burst from the bushes, nor was itangry guards chasing a threat off their land.

It was a dog. Orrather, it was Dog.

Sten blinked insurprise as the large mabari stopped at the edge of the shore,sitting. He barked once, and then waited. Part of him wondered ifthis was Cherche's idea of goodbye, her method of working past itall. If it was... it was surprisingly her.

Dread Wolftake these damn bushes! I'm coming, Dog.

That was not the trade tongue, he realized, as his heart began topound faster until he was certain it was only his armor holding itback. He could still only pick out bits and pieces, but the swearingcame through clear as day.

So did Cherche as she crashed through the bushes, muttering oaths toat least three other of her gods. She had a pack strapped to her backand her beloved bow was at her side as she stomped through the sandwithout making a sound. He had always admired that.

The guard positioned on the sand shifted to a defensive position, butSten held up his hand and walked down the plank to meet his one timelover. Well, walking wasn't the most apt description – it probablyshould have been called more of a heavily controlled, barelyrestrained run. The elf met him halfway, wearing a rather sour lookon her face as she did.

“I can't believe you just left like that without saying anything!”She was pouting. “If I hadn't intercepted the letter you'd be halfway to Par Vollen and I'd be in Denerim!”

For the second time in his life, Sten found himself tripping over hisown tongue. He was struck mute by the very sight of her standingthere, her coppery hair turned to burnished silver in the moonlight.This close, he could smell her and it made his heart ache.

Still, he cleared his throat. “I was not aware I had to inform youof my leaving. We had an agreement ka- Warden.”

A slip of the tongue. It was so unlike him that it gave him pause.Cherche, however, stopped for no man and stepped forward, jabbing himin the chest with one finger. He wouldn't have been surprised if shehad put a dent in the metal.

“Don't give me that 'Warden' nonsense, I've tied you up far toomany times for that.” A pause as her eyes turned uncertain for abrief moment. “You know... I couldn't just let you go like that,agreement or not.”

Sten frowned as he looked back towards the ship. They had ten, maybefifteen minutes before they would have to wait another day. Was thisher plan in an attempt to get him to stay? He had known the elves tobe crafty, but this was downright silly.

So, he started out as blunt as possible. “I cannot stay here. Mylife is in Par Vollen, and yours is here in Ferelden. We agreed onthis.”

That was probably one of the worst things he could have said. Cherchebristled like a porcupine – one of the very painful things he hatedmost about Ferelden on top of the smell – as she took a few moresteps forward. She reached for no sword or bow, though. Instead,standing on the very tips of her toes, she reached up and pressed herlips to his.

He could still taste the remains of mead on her lips as he wound upwrapping his arms around her for support as her legs strained. It wasone of their more chaste kisses, considering the company he wascurrently keeping. Thankfully with his back turned, it was a littlehard to see.

When she broke the kiss, the elf's eyes were on fire. “Do I have tospell it out? I don't want to choose between your life or mine! I'drather have ours!”

Another poke to the chest. “And don't think you can scare me off bythreatening me with qamek or whatever. You damn well know I'm immuneto everything on this blighted rock.”

It was true. Sten had seen her eat multiple batches of deathroot forfun on multiple occasions, sometimes as part of an elaborate bar betin order to win extra coin for drink. She had a silverite stomach,and her constitution was at the levels of some of the stoutest Qunarihe had ever known.

How he had wound up with her, he had no clue.

'We need to leave soon. Is the elf coming or not?'

Reality crashed back down. Waves were beginning to splash harder.Their window of opportunity was growing shorter by the moment. Ofcourse, Sten knew the moment she had arrived on the shore there wasno arguing with her.

“Your son is going to miss you, kadan.”

Cherche's face brightened visibly as she motioned for Dog to joinher. “He's a big boy and has a whole Keep to look after. I don'tthink it'll be too hard to get letters across, especially inAmaranthine.”

She was soon ahead of him, walking up the plank of the ship with hermabari at her side. Sten shook his head, an awkward smile crossinghis features as he followed after her, leaving the shores of Fereldenbehind.

This was going to be interesting to explain to the Arishok when hegot back.

[magmasliveblogs]

interlue - 1.00 R

due to more spotty internet today i will post however many i can and hope i catch up 

to recap: last chapter erin utterly trounced olesum, got her money back from the shopkeeper as part of the bet, and got a supplier in the name of a gnoll who hasnt introduced themselves by name yet! it seems we are changing perspectives, given there is a new letter. 

The wind blows through my hair. It’s a great feeling. People often underestimate how a good breeze can change your day.

And on this day, when the sky is blue and clear without a cloud in the sky, who wouldn’t want to be outside? The air is cool, and the breeze is better than air conditioning.

It’s a perfect day for running. I’ve run through bad days when the heat can drop a horse, and I’ve run through thunderstorms, typhoons and even dog crap. Twice. And while I can grit my teeth and keep running even when the world’s against me, I live for the days when it has my back.

The wind cools and energizes me. As I sprint through the knee-high grass I grin. With the temperature in the air I won’t sweat as much. That means I won’t overheat and so I can run faster. It’s little things like that which make the difference between a good run and a great run.

A rock appears in the grass and I hop over it just in time. Careful. At the speed I’m running I can easily break a foot if I trip over one. I’ve split my toenails more than once by kicking rocks at high speed. Not fun.

Keep running. Actually, scratch that. Run faster. The wind blows against my face and I smile again. It’s the small things that make life good. Like the wind.

The wind cools you down. It gives you something to run against; makes you feel alive. It also helps throw off arrows when people are shooting at your face.

An arrow flies through the air and I change my course slightly. It slices through the air past my left arm. Too close.

I adjust my path and pick up speed. I’m nearly out of the range of the Goblins that have been hunting me. A few more seconds and I’ll lose them.

Goblins. They’re frightening little monsters with red eyes and pointy teeth. They look more like demons, actually. But they’re real enough, and they like eating humans. If they can catch them, that is.

One pops out of the grass as I run towards the city in the distance. It’s a larger Goblin than normal, and he’s wearing rusty chainmail and holding a short sword.

He swipes at me and I jump. Straight over the blade. The Goblin gapes as I land and then sprints after me.

My legs blur. The Goblin slices at my legs but I’m already out of range. He runs as fast as he can, but I pull away so quickly that it’s like he’s standing still.

“Nice try.”

I mutter under my breath as I keep running. I don’t have the time or air to actually say that out loud, of course. Besides, I’m not good at comebacks. Or…insults. Either way.

The Goblin stops after a few more feet and screeches at my back. I ignore him and keep running. After a while I hear the Goblin’s shrill war cries end as they give up the chase.

After what feels like a few miles or, to be more worldly, a few kilometers, I stop. I do a quick scan of the area around me. Shorter grasses dominate this gentle downwards slope. Looks like I’ve lost the Goblin tribe.

I take a few deep breaths and wipe at my forehead. Not much sweat. Good. I’d be worried if I got tired that quickly.

This is my morning. It’d be lying if I said it was normal for a girl born in the greatest city in the world*, but I can get used to anything.

*Obviously, New York.

a runner it seems, and one from earth! 

Back to running. After a few seconds I start walking, and then transition into a jog. But time is money and soon I’m back up to speed. Not sprinting speed; I need to conserve as much energy as possible for the emergencies like Goblin attacks, Dire Wolves, bandits, zombies, skeletons, Crelers*, and the other nasty things that live in the plains**.

*I’ve never actually seen these particular monsters. I’m not even sure if that name is right—the locals just call them ‘Tunnel Crawlers’. Apparently they’re not something you want to meet.

**If I make it sound horrible, it’s only because I’m aware of the possible dangers. At any given time there’s really not that many monsters lurking around. It’s just that you never know when one will pop up.

those crelers are different from how they are mentioned here 

Anyways, I keep running. I enjoy the wind blowing through my hair for a bit and finally reach the city in question.

Tall gray walls, and spearmen and archers in towers that keep an eye out for monsters. This is Cerum, or something like that. It’s a city, one of the Northern Plains Confederation, which is to say a city-state*. And the my destination for the moment.

*More like just a city. It’s not that big, but all of the cities have their own form of rule. Some are ruled by a council, others have elected leaders like we do back at home, and some still have lords and ladies, although apparently only one or two still stick to that system. The point is they all band together if threatened, but they have their individual squabbles and goals. Just like good old USA.

I approach the open gates. A guard’s on duty so he can slam the gates shut if a dangerous person approaches or if they’re really ugly, but he doesn’t even twitch as I approach.

“Hoy there.”

He greets me. At least, I think it’s a greeting. I wave at him.

“Goblins. A few miles outside the city.”

He nods and say something I don’t quite catch. ‘Shame they ran off?’ Something like that. I nod as if I’ve heard him as I run into the city and the grass changes to hard cobblestone. Annoying and harder to run on; I’m going to have to slow down.

From a fast run I slow down to a jog, but not the kind that you see in TV. I hate the stupid bouncy run actors pretend to do, which clearly misses the point of running. Jogging, like sprinting or walking or anything else should be fluid and concise. You don’t waste energy looking like you’re standing on a pogo stick.

Let’s see. Pedestrians are already out and about despite the early hour. Good. I’d hate to have to wait. I navigate down the streets, using the wooden signs posted above the streets for guidance.

It’s great that everyone around here speaks and writes in English. How amazingly annoying* would it be if they wrote or spoke a different language? But by some contrivance of fate, English is the dominant language in this world. Of course, other languages exist but apparently most species know English.

*And realistic.

Anyways. As I slow down to let a cart go by I think of what the guard said. Was it a warning? Was he saying it was a shame I ran off and didn’t fight back? It’s going to bother me on the run back. Why don’t people understand that it’s not a good idea to say things to someone running? We barely hear them even when we don’t have an iPod blasting music* in our ears. Plus, I’m really bad at listening.

*Pop. And rock. And techno, but that’s hit-or-miss. Look, if I can run to it I will. I have a soft spot for country music, but it’s hard to keep up speed when I’m listening to a harmonica’s croon. Country is for crying or nostalgia. At least, that’s the only kind of song I download.

it seems we have a cynic on our hands 

At last I reach my destination. By which I mean I reach a tall stone façade of marble and gaze up at a fancier class of painted wood door than I’ve seen elsewhere. Urban housing meets rich people.

I take a few deep breaths. This is the part I hate the most. But it has to be done, so I steel myself. And hesitate. I take another deep breath, worry about hyperventilation, and knock.

I really do hate this part the most.

is she anti social or is this client particularly annoying? 

Celum, just past dawn.

The instant Lady Magnolia, a member of the noble echelons of the city opened the door she clasped her hand to her heart.

“Oh my! Are you here with the delivery already?”

The girl—the young woman who still thought of herself as just an older girl at times—nodded her head silently. Magnolia needed no further invitation.

“I hadn’t expected you so soon! But where are my manners? Magnolia Reinhart, at your service. You are the Runner I’ve been expecting, yes?”

“Mm. Your seal?”

The young woman nodded. Lady Magnolia hesitated, and then touched her fingers to her brow.

“Oh. Of course. It’s been so long since I—I’d completely forgotten. Please come in while I fetch it.”

The young woman hesitated and eyed the pristine mansion behind Magnolia. The lady noticed her hesitation and glanced down. Her eyes widened slightly, but she took the moment in stride.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I have plenty of servants who can deal with little stains. Please, come in, come in!”

The young woman hesitated and then reluctantly stepped into the house. She looked up and around and the marble flooring she was currently dirtying, and the fancy rugs, the tapestries on the wall, and clearly wished to be elsewhere. But Magnolia was fiddling around with a little pot set next to the wall.

“Now, where did they put the seal? Normally I’d leave this all up to the head maid – Ressa, but I just knew it was my delivery. Hm…hmm…here!”

Her hand plucked a silver-and-sapphire token from the plate. The beautiful seal was half gleaming silver, the other half a semi-translucent pool of cerulean.

She presented the token to the young woman who received it with extreme care. Magnolia patiently waited as the young woman carefully stowed the token in a belt pouch at her waist and then undid her pack.

It was a backpack, but not one that would ever grace any store in the world the young woman had come from. Rather, instead of Velcro and machine-tooled stiches and individual and superfluous compartments, this pack was made of leather stitched to cloth and had all the aesthetics of a black bug crawling on her back. But it could be tightly secured with strings and opened without having to be taken off.

Carefully, the messenger for that was what she was, removed a heavily-wrapped item. She held it out.

“Here.”

Lady Magnolia practically snatched the parcel out of the young woman’s hands and carelessly unwrapped the heavy layers of wool and string that had protected the item. The young woman blinked at the detritus littering the floor and then looked back at the package she’d so painstakingly brought this far.

An enameled bottle of red crystal caught the light in Magnolia’s hands and practically illuminated the foyer with light.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Magnolia swished the blue liquid inside the bottle and smiled gently. She turned to the young woman and bowed her head slightly.

“I can’t thank you enough for bringing this in time for brunch. I’m entertaining several of my friends and I promised them I’d share a glass of this delightful drink with them. It’s very expensive, but so delicious! It’s distilled from a very poisonous fruit – the Amentus fruit, I think they call it. So hard to get a hold of, but I did promise! And wouldn’t you know it, but I drank the last glass yesterday. And so I put in my request and here you are!”

first of all, new city name, celum! also, i assume this is the same fruit as erin has survived on. could erin totally crash the market of these fruits? 

She beamed at the young woman. The young woman said nothing. Her left eye twitched.

“Please tell the Guild that I’m very happy with their efficiency.”

Nod, nod. The young woman shifted her feet and glanced towards the door.

“Do you have another request?”

It was the traditional response and Magnolia dithered.

“Well, I suppose—but no, I don’t believe I need—well, at the moment no, but it would be a shame too—no. I suppose not.”

The young woman nodded and began to edge back towards the door. Magnolia was ringing a silver bell and aproned women and an elderly gentleman were descending the stairs towards their mistress, but when she noticed the young woman leaving she called out.

“Won’t you stay and have a glass? I would hate to send you on your way without a little reward.”

“…Sorry. I have more deliveries to make.”

Magnolia’s face fell, but she rallied at once.

“Then at least take this gift for your trouble. No, no! I insist.”

She pressed a coin into the young woman’s hands. The young woman tried to give it back, but Magnolia wouldn’t hear of it so she gave up.

“Bye.”

yeah i would say its a combo, this lady magnolia is inherently an extrovert on the far side of the spectrum, while our character is anti social 

The young woman left the mansion of a house and walked down the street. It turned into a jog as soon as she had enough room, and she moved out of the richer housing and into the common districts. There she knocked on two more doors and, with much less conversation and a lot more efficiency, handed over a letter and a bag and received two red tokens.

Her deliveries made, the young woman took care to stow both tokens in the same pouch the silver and sapphire token had gone in. She made sure the pouch was closed as well. It was crucially important that she not lose any of the tokens, or seals as they were known.

Messenger Seals. A proof of delivery. Without one of the brightly-colored bits of stone, any delivery was suspect. A messenger had to deposit such seals in order to receive their reward, and so they were valuable.

To an extent.

Among the wealthier class of patrons, Messenger Seals were a sign of their status and power. Merchants and bankers used lesser gemstones instead of common stone, and the most elite members of society even had their own unique form of Seal to prove delivery beyond a doubt.

However, anyone without such means had to use the simple cut stone provided by their cities at nominal prices. These were cheap, but also meant that they could be used to prove false deliveries.

Cases of messengers taking goods and providing false Seals happened every year. Thus, trust was just as important with messengers. Their reputation for honesty was a key part of receiving individual contracts, just as much if not more so than their ability to deliver packages quickly.

The young woman set off for the gate. She was tired. Not physically tired, but drained from the effort of interaction. But her pace picked up as she went out the gate and soon she was running down a well-worn road that would lead her back to her city. She wanted to make more deliveries today, and so she had to beat the midday rush on requests if she wanted to get any of the profitable ones.

She was a messenger. Or Runner as they were referred to. Other names included Travelers, Sealers – after the Seals they used, Carriers, and a whole host of rude words whenever they ran into someone.

She preferred to think of herself a Runner. Because she was a runner and running was what she loved to do. The deliveries she could take and mostly leave, unless it was the wrong address. Or the deliveree was dead. That had happened twice.

The point is she was running, and there was a breeze in her face. At a moment like this she could ignore the fact that she was in another world, or that she had no way to get back, or even that the Goblins were chasing her again. She was running, and she was free.

She was also barefoot.

Her name is Ryoka Griffin, a name which she hates. She enjoys running, and not talking to people. Her hobbies include not mentioning her name, running, hunting, and drinking coffee. Currently—

Running.

and we have a name! ryoka griffin! also more runner lore! 

quick note: i know some people find ryoka to be an annoying character, or just dont like her as a person. while i disagree and quite like her as a character and as a person, i can see why people dont really like her, or at least until more recently 

also thats the end of the chapter! will ryoka and erin meet ever? will we get more info about the runners guild and humans in general? is celum even on the same continent as liscor? 

see you next post