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lovesickeros · 9 months

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☆ even the gods bleed

{☆} characters furina, neuvillette {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood, injury, light angst {☆} word count 2.3k

What was justice?

Focalors had asked herself that question many times during the long nights she spends awake pouring over the prophecy of a dead God, words replaying in her mind like a broken record until the sun rose like a blooming flower.

She was the God of Justice, an Archon, yet she herself lacked the answer to such a simple and yet so very complex question.

How does one define what is just and what is not? How does she know that what she believes to be just is right? Is it justice if one being alone may sway the scales of justice on a whim? What justice is there to be found in the cold, watery grave that awaits her nation?

She does not know.

Perhaps she may never know.

What she does know, at least, is that this is not justice.

It is a mockery of it.

She stands before the bloodied, broken body like the judge, her sword held so tightly in her hand her fingers feel stiff, a dull ache adding to the weight of what she's seen. For a long, horrible moment she almost thinks they are dead – something she would have reveled in, only a day prior – before she sees the subtle rise and fall of their chest. Breathing, but barely.

The rain felt heavier upon her shoulders at the realization – she was not sure if it was in relief or horror.

Her nails dig into her palm, mind stuck somewhere between that abject horror and confusion so palpable she swore she could hear the gears in her head turning.

For a long, silent moment as she stares upon the body beneath the heavy rain..she wonders if this is how it all ends instead. If the world itself will simply crumple in on itself and cease – without its heart, it will wither, after all – long before the waters ever swallow her nation whole.

Because, try as she might to rationalize it, for every drop of rain that hits her like pins and needles, soaking her down to the bone..the body of the imposter is completely dry. Even the water pooling along the stones dares not to leave so much as a splotch against their ragged, torn clothes.

She remembers the meeting so very clearly, and she thinks she is a fool to not have noticed sooner – the Creator upon their gilded throne, finger pointed in accusation at the visage far too similar to their own. The imposter. She remembers the lilt of their voice as they called for their death as easily as one would speak of the weather – and to no one other then herself would she admit the spark of fear it had ignited within her. Because beneath the divine charade there was a sick enjoyment in the way they looked upon the imposter – like a bug beneath their shoe.

She understands, now.

She had thought that perhaps finally – finally – she could do right by her people, by her Creator, if she rid Teyvat of this..intrusion.

Now she sees herself as what it all really is – blind lambs following the herder.

Perhaps she would be considered a heretic under the eyes of the law – beneath the weight of justice, heavy as the heart that bears its sins. Perhaps this is a mistake, one she would come to regret.

But for now, she sheathes her blade with unsteady hands, the sound making her ears ring – for what she had almost done, what she had already done – as she stumbles like a newborn lamb towards the broken body of..

..What, exactly? Human? Divine? She is not so sure what to call them. Creator? No. The name is bitter upon her tongue, now, burning like liquid flame down her throat.

Where once she had spoken it in reverence and admiration, it felt hollow and empty, now.

Her vision wavers as she kneels down against the rain soaked stones, the rain upon her back growing heavier as she reaches a shaky hand forth – and for a moment, however brief, she feels the weight of expectation, of a title she fears she may never live up to, wash away with the waters that fall from the heavens.

The bruises and blood smeared across their skin are like strokes of a paintbrush, their body the canvas from which such horrid art is created. It makes her ill.

Doubt wavers her composure briefly – her position is already unsteady. She has never been seen as an equal to many of the other Archons. Her own people do not see her as their Archon, but an actor in a grand play that they shall simply toss aside and replace like a broken doll the moment she bores them.

What does she have left to lose?

She reaches out again, her hand settling onto their shoulder and turning them onto their back. She..isn't sure what to do, actually. She's never been particularly physically capable – she tended to avoid fights, even if she oft provoked them – and she was certainly no healer.

Yet what choice does she have but to march on anyway? She is in the heart of the city, it is far more dangerous here then anywhere else..she had little time to make her move.

Fontaine was, after all, a nation founded on the principle of justice. To know an injustice has been made against the most Divine..the entire nation was in a frenzy.

Her eyes dart around nervously, hands clasped tight on their shoulders and her lips drawn into a taut line – someone would notice her absence. One of the Archons would point out her absence in the coordination of the search.

Her options were just as limited as her time – she couldn't just take them out of the city. Security was tight, and as much as she fancied herself an escape artist – Neuvillette could hardly keep her in one place for too long – she doubted she could do the same with the limp body of the imposter in tow.

..The Palais Mermonia it was, then.

Her room had a secret entrance that few knew about, and even fewer would dare to traverse. She just..had to hide them there for a bit and hope Neuvillette wouldn't notice anything different.

Probably.

Still, there was the problem of actually..transporting the body. As grim as it sounded. Her only solace was the fact she didn't have to worry about them catching a cold, at least, and their breaths were still audible, if only barely. So she had to resort to some..unexpected methods.

Seeing the limp form of, well, the imposter – she'd really have to ask for something else to call them when they woke up – stuck in a bubble of hydro wasn't exactly on her bucket list.

Then again, neither was treason.

Well, first time for everything, right?

It wasn't breaking the law if no one else knew about it.

..Neuvillette didn't have to know about it, really. It was fine.

She could, of course, technically try to talk some sense into Neuvillette – he'd listen to her, right? She thought she was pretty close with him..but he was also the one person more obsessed with justice then she was. Such a stickler for the law..so maybe she's breaking a few, it's fine.

But he was also pretty devout, as much as he tried to keep his worship private – with Focalors around, nothing was really secret. Maybe she could get him to settle down long enough to prove it.

..How was she going to prove it?

An exaggerated groan escaped her lips as she led the bubbled imposter – she really wished she didn't have to resort to that, it would be a lot a more awkward to explain then dragging the body around – through the winding streets of Fontaine. She's just glad she's already memorized the entire city like the back of her hand..and a little dramatics went a long way. People listened when the Hydro Archon spoke, and she was suddenly very, very glad for that fact, even if they treated her more like a mascot then a God.

And partially because she, maybe, just a little..stole a few documents detailing the layout and a little personal exploration of her own – but what Neuvillette didn't know couldn't hurt him!

After what felt like hours, though was really no more then half an hour at best, she'd managed to drag herself – soaked to the bone with rain – and the conveniently bubbled imposter up through the secret entrance and into her room.

The perceived safety, as flimsy as it was, was..comforting. Until she heard the rustle of fabric, the clearing of a throat and the pop of a bubble as she, in her surprise, popped it – and then the thud of the imposter hitting the floor.

She felt a bit of regret about that part, at least, wincing.

"Lady Furina." His voice was as sharp and cool as she remembered it always being – like fresh spring water, she'd heard it described. Soothing. It did not feeling very soothing right about now.

She turned sharply on her heel, a forced smile tugging at her lips on reflex, every muscle in her body tensed – she probably looked like a wet cat right about now, soaked with rain, but that was the last thing on her mind.

"Do you mind explaining what, exactly, you did?" Not what you're doing, she notes – what she did. He was mad. Oh, she was really in for a scolding now. She twiddled her thumbs, laughing weakly, though it quickly dies out at the awkward, tense silence.

"Well, you see – it's rather complicated! I can– I can explain." Her attempts to diffuse are met with a raised brow and the sharp tap of his cane. Every single thought is plagued with the urge to run, but the unsteady breathes of the 'imposter' keep her rooted in place. "Well?"

She was sweating bullets, her nails digging into her palm as she scrambled for any excuse that could warrant her not getting hauled off and scolded thoroughly at best – she was coming up empty. How was she supposed to prove that the 'imposter' was very much not what the 'Creator' said they were? Their unconscious body was doing no one any favors, certainly.

"The Creator is lying," She blurts out, immediately regretting her impulsiveness when she feels the sudden weight of his stare – the piercing hues of his eyes that remind her just who is the strongest between them. It is not her, she knows. It never has been. "You can see for yourself! Don't you trust me, Neuvillette–?"

Her voice is cut off by the sharp click of his cane as he strides across the room in only a few steps, his height making her feel like a child about to scolded. She hated it, but she grit her teeth through the exchange. She reminded herself that this was for the sake of the 'imposter' and any affront to her ego was..tolerable.

To her credit, too, she didn't immediately lash out when she saw him poke at their body with his cane, turning them onto their back – she wanted too, though. She considered it, but the thought was quickly shot down when his stare turned back upon her, and she felt frozen in place again, her tongue a heavy weight in her mouth.

Yet she couldn't shake the sudden tenseness to his shoulders, his brows furrowed and a distant look to his eyes. It was..haunting, in a way.

She knows it well, she realizes. The realization and acceptance, the crumbling of every solid foundation you've ever known – leaving you to flounder in the waves, alone and afraid.

The gentleness in which he picks up the limp body surprises her though, his cane set aside. The rain howls like a horrid storm outside, but she cannot focus on anything but the furrow of their brows, the soft noise that escapes their lips.

"I trust that you know that this must stay between us," His voice is soft, like the gentle lap of waves against the shore, as he sets their body down against the bed, his hand lingering against their cheek with something almost like reverence – and if her eyes do not deceive her, affection. "Lady Furina."

She does not hesitate to agree.

"Well– well of course!" She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning at the feeling of her wet clothes clinging to her skin, a heavy weight that feels like it's dragging her down. "Just what do you take me for?"

He doesn't deign to respond.

It only makes her fume more.

Not that he seems to notice, unbuttoning his heavy outerwear and tossing it on the bed, rolling up his sleeves and focusing on the injured– er..yeah, she really needed a new name for them. Calling them imposter felt wrong.

"So long as you understand, then we will have no problems." She huffs again, pouting and puffing up her cheeks, sitting down on the other end of the bed with only an occasional glance towards him as he worked at peeling away the ragged clothes and examining the injuries marring their skin.

She suddenly felt out of place.

..What was she supposed to be doing?

As if noticing her sudden quietness, Neuvillette sighed, his back turned to her though his attention very much falling upon her. She really hated the feeling like she was being dissected whenever he looked at her. It was unnerving. She doesn't know how anyone else handles it..

"If you are so eager to do something, Lady Furina, then please have something brought up for when our..guest awakens. They will need to recover their strength."

Finally! Something she can do. She perks up, her heels clicking on the floorboards as she darts out like a bullet, unable to stay still for so much as a moment.

Neuvillette, for his part..

Feels an odd sense of serenity as he stares upon the troubled features of the..guest. A peace that lessens the burdens upon his shoulders, the weight of a nation upon his back.

He cannot hear the rain, anymore.

..It must have stopped.

#sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin impact #fic tag #imposter au #focalors #furina #neuvillete #a family can be a dragon an archon and his 300 other children who reverse adopted him #u date him its a package deal sorry #u now have like 300 children g-dspeed #also tagged spoilers on neuvi's part bc its kinda a spoiler??? sort of #also this can be read as platonic or romantic on neuvi's part #can u tell i like focalors btw :)#also gonna be swapping between focalors/furina bc SOMEONE sent me a theory and it sent me spiraling im gonna be ill #u know who u r and ur days r numbered #can be read as romantic between reader & neuvi but only bc i know focalors rubs it in his face she found the actual creator first #anyway can u tell focalors is my fav pt2 i wont shut up abt her its terminal atp #focalors..................#anyway *doesnt post fr months. randomly drops a 2k word fic. leaves and doesnt elaborate*#starts out v serious ends v silly #wrote this in one sitting im gonna go pass out now gn

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hysteriafossil · 1 month

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a redraw of something from october, original under the cut!!

i like to think ive improved !

#this drawing KILLED ME actually #i started it like?? 2 months ago?? and abandoned it at some point #so by the time i finished it my art had already progressed even just slightly more so i had to redo all the people sketches #im glad to have it done though and im fairly proud of the finished result #remus and roman r playing mariokart btw. if you even care #sanders sides #dlampr #<- not explicitly at all and this can be entirely viewed as platonic im just evil and think polyamory makes everything better #sasi art #ts sides #remus sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #my art #art

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pineconepaw · 6 months

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You wanted it all

You kept up a good fight

Within all of this time

You spent so hurt so lost

My love my light

I'm sorry that I made you cry (Character by @fog-and-the-frost)

#clangen #warrior cats #frost flahs........come back....#lyrics r platonic btw #frostflash

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butterscotchx98 · 2 months

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I can’t believe they invented gay people

#glee fanart???in 2024????#more likely than u think #they r talking about Sebastian btw #also this is the first thing I’ve drawn in months so it’s kinda ugly #kurt hummel #Kurt hummel fanart #santana lopez #Santana lopez fanart #glee #glee fanart #fanart #doodle #sketch #digital illustration #kurtana #but like platonically obviously

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livingdeadhorse · 2 months

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haiii:333 can u draw chishimondo trio with wombats pls ^.^ ???

mb I didn't know if you meant the wombat animal or the plush itself!!

vote 4 mondo and I draw 4 you

#this blog uses she/her for chihiro btw #also the requests r slowing down a bit because I still have classes lol but i swear I'm working through all of them!!#chihiro fujisaki #mondo owada #kiyotaka ishimaru #<- ykw I don't draw him as often as I should #chishimondo #<- meant to be platonic but idgaf either way #danganronpa #trigger happy havoc #drthh #also sorry for clogging these tags I hope y'all hashtag get it...you will be free in 3 days

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ottosbigtop · 6 months

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the fabled Whispering Rockers (Collection of redraws from Pinterest images)

#psychonauts #agent aquato and co au #chops sweetwind #phoebe love #quentin hedgemouse #Both top images r platonic btw they’re just goofs #art :0]#future au #Entering the more obscure corners of this au as I get farther away from the main team. You will look at funny older campers.#Chops [AAC | He/Any]#Quentin [AAC | He/Him]#Phoebe [AAC | She/Her]

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chocoenvy · 1 year

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Hi there! I love your mommy Signora post, but ofc I love all the mommy fics hehe💕

But what happens in the day to day life with mommy Signora once reader got over the shock a lil bit?

I headcannon that maybe Signora can bring them around the palace and feed them Snezhnayan food? Maybe find out they have a fav and would have some as back up in case.

And maybe little creator would be angry at anyone who talks bad about her fire moth mama?

Keep note that you don't have to do this if you're too busy okay? Stay hydrated and rest well💕

hi im sad rn so i have to project apologies for making you hurt in advance <3

Child of Fire, Raised in Ice

warnings: fluff with an angst ending, sagau, a child (that is ten but turns 11-12 throughout this) is considered god, mild blood, death

6,115 words

There was no separating you and your mama. Ever since the day she had found you in the snow, held you with such tenderness. Despite being considered a "big kid", you still imprinted onto her like you were a young child. Growing by her side, soon enough in your pre-teen years.

Still, you stuck by her side. No matter how old you got.

This was a side of Teyvat you had never dreamed of seeing. Each of the harbingers, in all their horror and glory, and a new ideal against the gods. Signora, who you thought was so bad and evil, was now your hero.

Was this brainwashing? Were you too young and naïve to understand fully what was happening? Maybe, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that you were safe. Signora was safe.

All the harbingers found it odd, Signora's behavior. How she didn't ask for anything from you in return, and yet your young mind already had an understand of give and take - of goods and services - was eager to please her.

"I can help!" "Do you need me to help?" A smaller hand holding onto her coat, you were basically her shadow. But you were desperate to be helpful.

Signora was scared to let you go alone, despite your exalted status, there were those that would hurt you to spite her, and those with a hatred for gods that extended beyond reason. Despite her insistence she had no earthly attachments to you - that this was merely business - she would never be able to forgive herself if something happened to you.

But she wouldn't be by your side forever. So slowly but surely, she helped you grow. To no longer rely so heavily on her.

Running errands to Childe first, who always had a soft spot for kids. He became your friend quickly, your brother. A familiar and friendly face to go to when you didn't have Signora. Next was Arlecchino, brash and sadistic, but had a calm façade. You grew close with her at a slower rate, but eventually caught yourself growing fonder of her. Asking to visit the orphanage, making care packages for the kids, playing with those your own age.

Signora watched you grow physically and mentally with a fond smile. One that no one had seen in centuries.

You became quite famous in the Zapolyarny palace quite quickly. Going from being always a step behind Signora, to always a step ahead of her. Sometimes even running ahead to greet someone you knew - such as flinging yourself into Capitano who merely gently patted your head. Or excitedly shouting something to Pierro, always eager to see his nod of approval when you've done something worthy. You'd always seen Signora give reports to him, so you attempted to keep your conversations the same as that. You failed miserably, but it was funny to see you talk so formally and informally at the same time and tacking "sir" onto the end of all of your sentences. Until one day he finally caved and told you to just call him Pierro.

Despite your image of Signora changing drastically from what you used to think of her, Dottore never really changed in your mind. His smile freaked you out, almost like if you got too close he'd snatch you up and tear you apart. Like the magic tricks you'd see of people being torn apart, but you didn't think he'd be able to - or want - to fix you.

You thought your wariness was warranted. Which caught the attention of The Damsel.

Oddly, you were never afraid of Pierro. He reminded you of the nice old men that were from your old home, and despite everything, when you got close to him, he smelled like one of your male family members. He reminded you of home.

However The Damsel was the opposite. She smelled of nothing but the ice cold tundra, she appeared sickly, weak, but her voice was powerful.

Her first words to you were, "You think the Doctor is so frightening? What has he done to you so far?"

You couldn't see her eyes, but her voice sounded as though she was awaiting a grand story, an utterly horrid story, like she wanted to tear you apart and see the deepest and darkest parts of you.

"He-he's scary looking," You pouted, distressed.

A dainty giggle danced in the air, and the sound made you relaxed against your better judgement.

"Am I scary looking?" She leaned down a bit, the height difference not being that much, but it felt like she was towering over you.

You blinked, throat tightening and mouth flapping open and closed. You felt Signora's hand touch your upper arm before the words tumbled out of your mouth, "A wendigo." You realized what you just said and fumbled to fix your mistake, "A pretty wendigo! Wait-! Uh-!"

Even Signora snickered at the comment. The Damsel giggled, "Perhaps you're not far off from the mark. Call me Columbina. A child of Signora's is a child I shall protect."

Suddenly, Dottore didn't seem as scary anymore.

You were slowly but surely becoming more and more independent as the months passed, almost seeming like you were a mini-harbinger with how often you hung around them. Everyone was still aware of your "godhood" but that was overshadowed with over half a year of you being at the palace. Over half a year after Signora had saved you.

"Fair Lady, your grace." One of Signora's personal servants entered Signora's study, where the two of you were sorting through important paperwork and writing reports to officials, townsfolk, and the Tsartisa herself.

Signora nodded for her to speak.

"The Tsaritsa has requested their grace's presence."

Those words sent a shiver up your spine, you glanced nervously at Signora but her face was completely neutral.

"Thank you, we'll be on our way immediately." Signora stood from her chair and the servant scurried off.

"Signora-"

"You'll be okay." Her smile was so uncharacteristically warm. A smile that melted away the snow, a smile that saved you when you were dying in the cold.

You opened your mouth to say something doubtful, to argue or protest, but you didn't, "...okay..."

She grabbed your hand in hers, and it was warm, and she led you to the Tsaritsa. To the heart of the palace, a place you had never been.

Signora had told you a handful of times that the Tsarist was aware of your presence in the palace and condoned it. That when you had passed out in her arms after she had saved you, the Tsaritsa herself had made sure you had healed at your bedside.

You didn't ask why, throat closed up and mouth dry. You never questioned why. Signora was safe, she'd tell you all you needed to know, and what you didn't need to know... was fine by you.

"Here," Signora slipped her hand out of yours, pushing you forwards towards a staggeringly tall door, "I will be right here-"

"Why can't you come with me?" You looked up at her with wide fearful eyes, barely managing a shaky breath in and out.

Signora's eyes softened, a sight you and one other lost to the snow has seen, her hand on your shoulder tightened and she lowered herself to your level, "The Tsaritsa has not requested me, remember we are living in her palace, in her land. She would never put you in danger, and neither would I." She cupped your face and lifted your wandering eyes to hers, "You believe me, right?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded.

She patted your cheek, "Good." A rare moment of fondness, she pressed her lips to your forehead softly, "Now go, don't keep her Majesty waiting too long."

You nodded, Signora's gentle and warm touch leaving your form. The cold surrounded you as you pressed your palm to the handle of the door. The cold spread throughout your veins, freezing your lungs and heart.

You used all your might to push the heavy door open, squeezing past it. It shut with a thud behind you.

You kept your eyes on the ground, barely wandering to fully take in the room.

You could feel her Majesty's presence, but you'd never formally met her before. How were you supposed to greet her? Were you supposed to greet her? What titles should you use? She was far scarier than any of the harbingers, you couldn't tell if your limbs were shaking from the cold or pure fear.

"Raise your head, child." A deep, baritone voice came from the throne, jostling you out of your frozen state.

You followed her command immediately, raising your head to meet her eyes- were covered. Her eyes were covered.

Her height was staggering as well, she must've towered over everyone in the palace including the harbingers. Her throne was completely made out of ice too, everything in the room as well. If you weren't careful, you'd slip and fall.

On her stoic face, the ghost of a smile played at her lips.

She stood from her throne, a grand and intricate dress falling gracefully behind her as she made her for you.

You could feel each step in your chest, the dread building up. You bit your tongue to stop tears from welling in your eyes.

She gracefully swooped into a kneel and grabbed your hand with surprising gentleness. Her hand, despite bearing a glove, was ice cold and pulsated with power.

It made you dizzy, the pure cryo energy in one human body and the power of three gnosis in her possession.

"It's an honor to formally meet you, your grace." Her deep voice reverberated in your head.

You stumbled on your words, "Y-y-y-you too your majesty." You squeaked.

She chuckled, "No need to be so formal, you've lived in my palace for quite some time now, haven't you. I know you well."

"You've been... watching..?" The question slowly died on your throat as you realized the absurdity of it. You were in her palace, her home territory. Of course she'd be watching you.

"I have. Everything that goes on in my home I am aware of. Not only in the palace, but in the whole of Snezhnaya." She answered with a smile, one that seemed oddly sinister, "There are many things I wish to tell you, many questions I believe you have. Those will all be answered in due time, you are still far too young for all of these dealings." Her hand slipped away from yours and you felt the blood flow resume - you hadn't even noticed it had slowed.

"First," An intricate box materialized itself in her hand, the same way the Traveler's weapon would appear and disappear on command, "I want you to know, your grace, that these are yours." She opened the box and you gasped, nearly tripping on the ice in your shock, "I have gathered two of the other archons' gnosis as well as my own, and soon to be all seven, all to give to you. I understand that this must be overwhelming which is why I don't expect you to accept or take them." Her smile grew and you swore you saw fangs peak out, "I merely want you to know that these are here for you, all you must do is call for them and they shall be yours."

"Why-?" You choked out, shock grasping at your throat, "You've worked so hard-"

"That is something that you must find out on your own." She closed the box, her smile ever present, "Snezhnaya has no room for tears and childhood, you've had to grow up faster than you could've ever imagined. I will give you some more time, but when you feel that spark of childhood extinguish, come to me."

"H-h-" The world spun, "H-How will I know?"

"You just will." The box disappeared from her hands, and in the same place Signora had left a warm and gentle kiss on your forehead, The Tsaritsa had done the same, chasing away whatever warmth lay on or underneath your skin. "Goodbye, child, it was wonderful meeting you."

You nodded, "You as well."

You scurried out the door, and just as she had promised; Signora was there.

Signora noticed the difference your meeting with the Tsaritsa had made immediately. You were shaken, your eyes had the beginnings of the frozen tundra in them.

Signora knew she wouldn't be able to preserve the warmth of your innocence and childhood forever, and it seems the threads of the Tsaritsa's grand plan were making themselves seen.

However, you still melted into her touch, smiling so widely when you saw her. Even with your ever-growing independence, you made sure to always stick next to her. You were never out of her sight, and that childish smile still remained when you saw her, or Childe, or Capitano, Pulcinella, Pierro, even Arlecchino, Columbina and Dottore got to see your childish smile. You were happy, and that was all Signora could ask for.

"Signora! Signora!" Your childish voice resounded through the halls.

"Yes, yes I'm right here dear, what is it?"

"Look!" You held out your hands to her, they were cupped together and on top of them rested a pyro moth.

Signora's eyes widened in shock, "Where did this come from?" There was no way you'd know these belonged to her, she had only ever used her cryo powers around you. Except-

"I don't know! It just kinda showed up, I think it likes me!" You smiled ear-to-ear, "It kinda reminds me of you, it's the same warmth I felt when you found me, you know?"

Signora hummed, her gloved hand coming up to lightly touch the wing of the moth, "I see." She smiled warmly, "Well, since it likes you so much, make sure to take good care of it."

You nodded enthusiastically.

Signora seemed to have been unaware of how close she had gotten to you. She knew her moth only had one objective: to watch over you.

Perhaps it was a good thing.

"What do you mean?!" You screeched, the moth that had shown up just a few days before fluttering distressed at your shoulder, "You're going away?" You whined, clutching onto her dress, "Why are you just telling me-?"

"(Y/n)." You froze at the use of your name, "You are still aware of the fact that I am a harbinger, this was going to happen eventually, I have a duty to the Tsaritsa and Snezhnaya. I must go, you know this. Everything has been set up, all that's left is for me to grab the gnosis and come right back. You understand."

It wasn't a question, and it wasn't a statement you would argue. You nodded miserably, stray tears falling down your cheeks.

Signora sighed, "Please don't cry." Her hands cupped your face and wiped away the fallen tears, "The other Fatui have taken care of most of the work, it will be quick and I'll come right back. You can be a big kid for a month can't you?" She smiled encouragingly

You sniffled and nodded, "I- I think so."

"Good, thank you, (Y/n). And if you don't think you can be a big kid there's always Childe and Columbina and the other harbingers." Signora smiled, "You can visit the orphanage with Arlecchino, do whatever you want. So long as you stay safe and keep Little Ayin with you. Understand?"

"Yes Signora!" You saluted like one of the Fatui underlings, Little Ayin fluttering encouragingly around you.

"Good!" She patted your head, "Now come on, you can follow me to the boat but you can't come with me."

You grinned, holding her hand and leading the way to the front doors of the palace, "Don't worry! One day I'll become a harbinger and be able to come with you to all of your missions!"

"Really? Will you be the 12th harbinger?" Signora asked ammused.

"Nope! I'll be first!"

"And what of Pierro?"

"He'll be retired. He already has back problems."

Signora snorted, "Don't be saying things like that so boldly, you might make an enemy of Pierro." She ruffled your hair playfully.

It didn't take long enough to reach the boat. You squeezed her hand, almost silently begging her to not go.

"I'll see you soon, (Y/n)." Signora smiled.

You flung yourself into her arms, "See you soon!" You pulled back with a grin, barely managing to hold back the tears.

Signora softly smiled, grasping your hands in hers. You felt her place a solid and cold object in your hands. She closed your hands together and patted them, "I'll be back in a month. Make sure not to cause the others too much grief."

You grinned, "No promises!"

She nodded and pulled away, you stopped yourself from chasing her warmth. She boarded the ship and you watched as they prepared for travel. You stood there the entire time as they prepared to leave, and then followed the boat as far as you could until they were too far at sea. Not for a second did you stop waving at Signora until the boat was out of view. Your hand fell to your side slowly but definitively.

"(Y/n)."

You swallowed down the tears and turned to grin at Arlecchino, "Yes. We should go home."

Arlecchino nodded, walking beside you.

You kept your hand next to Little Ayin, the other grasping whatever item Signora had entrusted to you.

"You look miserable." Arlecchino commented, "Come with me to the orphanage, it's been a while since your last visit."

You glanced up at her, and nodded, smiling softly, "Sure. Just- once we get there do you think I could have a moment to myself?"

Arlecchino gave you an undecipherable look, "Of course, (Y/n)."

Once at the orphanage, all the kids who you had grown close to over the past year swarmed you.

But just as she had promised, you were allowed a moment to yourself alone.

You took the item from your pocket and inspected it.

It was a locket. You stared at it, dumbfounded, your confusion doubling at the clearly Mondstadt design of the locket.

You opened the locket and a folded piece of paper fell out. However the picture in the locket was... Signora? And a man?

"Who..." You diverted your attention to the small piece of paper, unfolding it to read the message, "Dear (Y/n), I'm sorry for never having the strength to explain to you in person. Ask Pierro about the locket. I shall tell you more once I am back. -Signora"

You stared dumbfounded at the piece of paper and locket you now had in your hands. Was this even Signora? Maybe it was a family member of hers? But why would she give this to you-?

"(Y/n)?" There was a knock on the door, "The children are getting impatient."

"Oops! Coming!" You turned around and rushed through the door, past Arlecchino.

Immediately a genuine smile tugged at your lips as you spend the day at the orphanage, with those you could almost call your family.

You couldn't sleep in the orphanage. You and the kids had played for hours on end, a distraction from Signora's absence. However you refused to sleep there. No matter how inconvenient or spoiled and bratty you sounded.

Thankfully, after some pushing, Arlecchino relented and took you back to the palace even though it was well after midnight.

Being in an orphanage and staying there after Signora had left... you couldn't do it. Not after you had been ripped away from your other family.

"You know, I'm starting to really hate agreeing to babysitting duty." Arlecchino huffed, grimacing.

You snickered, "Did Signora ask you to babysit me?"

She sighed, "Not explicitly, but she did enough passive aggressive hints for me to get the message."

You giggled at the mental image, "Well you won't have to worry about me tomorrow, I have plans in mind to bother another Fatui member." You grinned sadistically, a grin you've seen on Arlecchino before.

"May the Tsaritsa help their soul then."

You hunted down Pierro as quickly as you could the next day, following him around like a lost duck.

"Is there something you need?" He asked gruffly.

"Yes, but it'd take up a lot of your time."

He sighed, "Is it important?"

"Yes." You stared up at him with wide, child-like, yet gravely serious eyes.

His visible eye searched yours for a moment, as if noticing something that wasn't there before. Maybe there was.

Pierro nodded, "Alright then, come with me."

He turned and briskly walked towards his office, you scurried after him, gently holding onto his coat so you could keep up with him.

The locket and note were held in your pocket, and Little Ayin was snuggled against your neck comfortably. Signora was still, in a way, with you. She'd come back in a month, and you'd be here waiting for her. You'd be able to ask all the questions you want about the locket and the couple in it.

He opened the door to his office and held the door open to allow you inside, "Go ahead and have a seat." He shut the door and sat opposite of you. With a rough sigh, he said, "So, what is it that you need to tell me?"

You pulled the note and locket out of your pocket, laying it on the table in front of you.

"Signora gave this to me before she had left." You looked up at him, searching his expression.

For a moment, confusion and shock made his eyebrows furrow, before they became neutral. Almost as though he had expected this.

"I see." She gently grabbed the note and read it, nodding to himself.

Opening the locket, he turned it so it faced you, the couple staring at you. The woman's smile one you had seen before.

"This was 500 years ago. The woman is Signora, and the man beside her was her husband, Rostam."

"Husband?" You sputtered, Little Ayin resting on your shoulder solemnly, "She has... why did she never tell me?"

"Because he is no longer with us." Pierro said, his eyes meeting your steadily, like he was telling a story that had already been finished. "He was once a Knight of Favonius, and after the calamity of Khaenri’ah the Knights were tasked with purging the monsters that had emerged. Here, Rostam had died. Signora had been at the Akademiya in Sumeru studying while he had died, and when she returned to find him dead she went insane. Swearing to burn away the world and cleanse it."

You remained silent, staring at the picture of such a happy couple. Unsure of what you should be feeling.

"I believe," He said carefully, but retaining all the power in his voice, "That she hesitated on telling you because of how much it hurt her. I never expected her to tell you at all." His hand gently came up to pat the top of your head, and you didn't realize all the tears that were falling onto your lap. "Rostam was Signora's family. The only one she had. I believe she sees you the same way now."

You screwed your eyes shut and curled in on yourself, sobbing into your hands.

"I-I want her back!" You wailed, "I don't- don't want her leaving." You hiccupped, "I miss my old family, she's-she's all I have."

"She'll return." Pierro said so assuredly that you couldn't help but believe him, "You must have faith in her. She's captured two gnosis successfully. She will return with one more. Trust me when I say this is just as painful for her as it is you."

You nodded, sniffling. Reminding yourself over and over that she would return.

The first night on the ship, Signora had cried. She cried like she had just lost someone, cried like her first night in the Akademiya. Like she was alone for the first time in a long time.

It was the longest and hardest month she'd had in centuries. It was foolish - stupid of her to get so close to you. She feared that history had a habit of repeating itself, and she was petrified for the latter half of her history repeating.

But you were in the Zapolyarny Palace, under the protection of the Tsaritsa and the harbingers. T here was no way you would be hurt while under Her Majesty's care.

But her subordinates could see her stress, how she was snappier and any semblance of leniency she had shown in their homeland had evaporated. She chalked it up to this being an important mission, the most important one since last year when she and Childe obtained the Geo Gnosis. Of course, any leniency allowed by her could put the whole mission in jeopardy.

She'd get this mission finished with soon. At this point all that was left was to take the damn thing and go home.

"Filthy rats... all of you!"

She was desperate, insane, a witch.

All the heartbreak she went through after she lost Rostam, the pain and fear you felt when you awoke in this world to never see your family again, you would not feel it again. She had to go back to Snezhnaya, she had to go back to you-!

In the end, she did make it back to Snezhnaya. In a casket.

"Pierro! Pierro! She's here! She's here!" You squealed, bounding out of the palace.

"(Y/n)..." You were too excited to notice his odd tone, "Slow down."

From the day he had told you of Signora's past, you kept the locket around your neck. Even if you never knew Rostam, if he made Signora happy then he had your approval.

"Come on, Little Ayin! Why are you so slow?" You gently but hurriedly scooped the strangely forlorn fire moth into your hands. "I thought you'd be more excited for Signora's return." You giggled, running through the snow even before the sun had begun to rise, Pierro following slowly behind.

You waited at the dock, "How long will it take for them to be here?" You questioned Pierro, staring up at him with wide and excited eyes.

Pierro watched the child-like nature flutter with hope in your eyes. He sighed, "The report said they'd be here by sunrise."

"How long until sunrise?" You bounced on your tippy-toes, stretching your neck to see as far out into the ocean as you could.

"Far too long, child, it's 3 in the morning." He patted your shoulder hardily, "And you've been up since midnight."

"I just can't wait!" You grinned.

Oh how Pierro was dreading the morning sun.

Quite a few Fatui were gathered around the docks, and of course, you were the first to spot the boat carrying Signora.

"There! That's her! That's her!" You screeched, pointing at the boat.

But no one cheered.

You didn't think to question it, Pierro having to hold you back from sprinting up the plank laid down from the boat to the dock.

You saw ginger hair and a red scarf at the top of the plank.

"Childe? What's he-?"

You felt your heart drop to your feet and then somehow tumbling even further away from your grasp. Your stomach churned and twisted. You wanted to throw up and cry out your insides.

Childe didn't smile at you when his eyes met you, as he led a group of people carrying a human-sized box off of the ship.

You broke away from Pierro's grasp, hitting his hand away from you when he reached for you.

"(Y/n)-!" He barked after you sternly.

"Childe!" You crashed into his front, holding onto the front of his shirt even though he towered above you, "Where is she?"

His eyes somehow managed to look even more dead, hope chased away long ago.

Fear grappled your heart, stopping it's beating entirely. You shook him, your voice raising dangerously, "Where is she Tartaglia!"

He shakily inhaled, pity in his dark blue orbs, an ocean swallowing you in the beginnings of grief. He closed his eyes and turned his head to look at the box that was being carried by six Fatui.

"There."

"..."

There was silence, quieter than the deathly snow at night, waiting for its next victim. Your limbs and organs stopped working, halting their movements to stare at the box.

"Stop lying." You whispered.

"I'm not-"

"She's not!" You choked, shaking Tartaglia desperately, "You're lying!"

"(Y/n)." A firm hand gripped your shoulder, Pierro softly yet firmly said, "Please-"

"Did you know?!" You whipped around to face him, eyes wide and pupils pinpricks, breathing erratic - angry - and tears falling furious from your eyes.

"... yes. We got a report-"

"Why didn't you tell me!" You screeched, pushing him away from you and backing away, your hands clenched as fists at your side.

Pierro lowered his hand with a frown, "Because we knew you wouldn't believe us and that you'd react like this."

"She's not- she can't be- she's still in Inazuma you just left her behind. You- you-" You choked on your words and sobs, crying into your sleeves.

You clutched Little Ayin to your chest, its warmth the only comfort.

Without even realizing it, you were running, your name being shouted from behind you before stopping. But you kept running. And running.

And running.

You were once again lost in the tundra, snow billowing past. Except now you were accustomed to it, and attuned to the world in a way you nor anyone else could begin to imagine.

However one thing remained the same. You had lost your home. Your family. Once again, it had happened.

You fell into the snow, curling into a pathetic, sobbing ball. Crying into your arms and knees and hands until you couldn't feel your body. Everything was numb, even your heart and mind.

There was no point, no reason, no rhyme or love or life.

You wailed into the snow, into the tundra and wild of Snezhnaya. You screamed and cried like a wounded animal, begging and screaming for someone to bring Signora back. To bring your family back.

Your prayers were only slightly listened to. A warmth floated by your ear and you jerked away. You were laying on your stomach, face numb in the snow, until Little Ayin encouraged you to roll onto your back as it laid on your chest. Right where your heart was beating erratically.

It brought warmth throughout your chest and your raised your hands to gently hold it. Your wails and sobs turning into pitiful sniffles and whimpers. It was as though a limb had been torn off you and you were desperately trying to convince yourself you could reattach it. That you'd still have it good as new.

That Signora would come back. She'd come back she promised she promised, they all promised, she'll come back one day.

You gulped in breathes of cold air, stabilizing yourself in the warmth you pretended was Signora's hand. When suddenly the temperature dropped even more. Your tears turned into icicles after they fell, your entire body numb.

You didn't even move your eyes when you saw a pair of hands come up to wipe at your face. When they moved away, you saw tear and blood stains.

"Dear, you've certainly made quite a mess of yourself." It was the deep baritone of Her Majesty, yet despite that you couldn't bring yourself to care. Your heart didn't jump in recognition and neither did your eyes widen. You lay there motionless.

"Come, it is far too harsh out here for a wounded heart." She easily picked your limp body up, Ayin still laying against your chest, its pulsating warmth weaker than ever.

The Tsaritsa noticed a pattern within her kingdom. The cycle of love repeating endlessly, so everlasting even the Raiden Shogun would be envious.

How cruel this cycle was to her subjects and even the ruler of them all. To allow attachments to grow and fester and wrap thorns and roots in one's heart only to have them brutally torn out. Leaving you with nothing but scars.

Right now you were a bleeding wound, not even the most adept and knowledgeable would be able to know how to help you.

Not even the Tsaritsa, who had seen and experienced this pattern countless times, did not know the solution.

But she knew different outcomes. She merely awaited to see which one you would set down.

The day of Signora's official funeral you were much quieter. The harbingers gathered around her cold casket. You had grieved alone with her corpse some days earlier, pretending her hand was grasping your own and she was hugging you closely to her chest. That you were missing your old family as she comforted you, back when you were younger and more of a crybaby.

That she'd allow you to be weak again, to be a crybaby again and weep for what you missed.

She had never responded to your questions about her and Rostam.

Her cold casket didn't burn bright red like Little Ayin. It was white in the white snow and ice. Columbina sang with a smile, the other harbingers bickering. Your hand rested against her coffin.

The creeps of the Tsaritsa's power made themselves known, frost creeping their way through the building. You comforted the cold metal of the coffin the same way her hand comforted you. Perhaps you could pretend that somewhere, somehow, she could feel it.

Little Ayin fluttered away from you, landing on the fallen pawn on the chessboard.

"We are gathered here today to remember our dear comrade..."

The words from Pulcinella's mouth made you sick. Your teeth grit in anger.

The traveler had defeated The Fair Lady in a duel before the throne. Childe's words were engraved into your very mind, anger burning through your veins. It was customary for her to be executed after their fight by the shogun.

The harbinger's heartless and stupid words made it worse, your gaze flickering between them like a caged animal ready to strike. You tapped your finger against the coffin, willing yourself to believe it was empty.

"It's time to end tonight's foolish theatrics." Pierro stepped out of the shadows, the frost spreading across the floor away from you, "Right now you have no captive audience."

You unclenched your fist and stood straighter as the harbingers gathered around her. Blood dribbled from your palm where you had cut them with your nails.

Little Ayin rested on her coffin, and it burned away. Your last source of her warmth gone. You had to bite your tongue to keep from crying or yelling.

Pierro's every word hung in the air like the ending of an act to a play. And at the end of the act, the entire building was encased in ice. Never to be disturbed again, Signora would rest in absolute peace.

"As was Her Majesty's benevolence."

But it wasn't until after you had returned to the palace, with a demand to meet with Her Majesty, when you realized she was no where near the vacinity.

The Tsaritsa hadn't frozen Signora's burial site. You had.

"Your Majesty." You faced her, head lifted to meet her eyes.

"Yes, your grace?" She responded with a wicked grin.

"I am no longer a child." Your eyes resembled her eleventh harbinger, Hell having greeted you firsthand, "My birth mother and family cruelly torn away from me, and my mother from this world now dead. My childhood is dead and I wish to accept the gnosis."

Your eyes, wide with youth, were steadfast and set in determination and - the Tsaritsa amusedly noticed - rage.

She grinned, fangs peaking from behind her lips, "Then... I am sorry...to also have you shoulder the grievances of the world. Since you could endure my bitter cold, you must have the desire to burn? Then, burn away the old world for me. That is all I ask of you. Surely you can fulfill it."

The box materialized in her hands and you reached to take it.

"I will burn away the old world." You said through gritted teeth, your knuckles turning white from your grip on the gnosis, "I will cleanse this world, and I will kill the traveler."

The Tsaritsa nodded, her smile never faltering, "Then welcome to the Fatui, your grace. I know you shall become a wonderful ruler for the new world, and a vengeful soldier for your lost mother."

The patterns that love followed truly were amusing.

#sagau #genshin self aware #genshin cult au #sagau fatui au #fatui au #signora #child!reader #signora is mother #platonic!signora #arlecchino crumbs #Pierro grandad fr #btw this was my actual reaction to Signora's death/hj #anyways how r yall? i am. normal.#anyways i don't even remember what i wrote and i am not abt to proofread it #bc i thought it was so good while i was writing it and now i am Afraid.#i have no more words i used them all writing this #hope u like it be gay do crime

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eldritch-nightmare · 8 months

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saw that ur rq's are open and i LOVE your blog so:3 may i request ticci toby w a reader who looks up to him like a big brother?? platonic ofc !!! maybe they like . even copy some stuff he does (general gestures he might make, his vocabulary, hell maybe even his choice of weapon, etc) bonus points if you manage to add angst!!! have a nice day and make sure to drink water !!!

a/n: aw, i'm glad you like the blog!! you make sure to drink water too <3 i was gonna have a short little angst drabble at the end but i couldn't really figure out how to word it and i didn't wanna force it so i just turned the idea into those little kinda sorta angsty headcanons near the end.

toby w a reader who looks up to him like a big brother

warnings: platonic obvi, gn reader, overprotective behavior, mentions of injuries, brief mentions of injuries, death, and murder.

Honestly, he probably thinks you're weird as hell when you start following him around like a lost puppy.

Toby doesn't let people close to him, so he definitely tries shooing you away for a good few months before he ultimately realizes you're not gonna leave him alone.

He's not 100% sure how he feels about you viewing him as an older brother figure. I mean, obviously he's fine with it considering Sally views him as one as well but... Sally's dead. You're still alive and kicking.

He takes to the role immediately though, even if he doesn't realize it.

Whenever he's out completing missions, he always brings something back for you be it a snack or a book or some random trinket he thinks you might like.

He'd definitely have to sit you down and tell you not to copy his gestures and whatnot because while he understands that you don't mean any harm by doing it, it does make him feel uncomfortable, especially if you're copying his tics. That's a no-go. Don't do that.

His vocabulary is actually pretty safe. He doesn't swear much, only when he's under immense stress or if he's really angry, so you won't hear him saying fuck anytime soon. Unless you're around one of the others.

Which, speaking of, he does not want you hanging around certain creepypastas. He definitely has a long, comprehensive list on who you can and can't hang out with.

Eyeless Jack, Sally, Cody, Liu, and Natalie are safe. Spend time with them all you want. Nina, BEN, and Helen are on thin ice, but if you like them then go ahead. Stay the hell away from Jeff, Laughing Jack, and Candy Pop, specifically. They are all terrible influences and he immediately goes into Protective Big Brother Mode whenever they're around.

It goes into further detail than that, but just to give you the gist of it.

If it isn't obvious by now, Toby is going to be extremely protective. Like... to the point where you may even consider it to be overbearing.

He's also going to default and worry over every wound you may have, even if it isn't anything major. He isn't trying to be suffocating or anything like that, he just can't stand the thought of you getting hurt.

Real fucking hesitant to let you near any weapons. If you show any type of interest in wanting to do what he does, he will shut you down immediately. It's not happening.

And if you already do what he does, then, well... he's still not going to be okay with it. He'll watch you like a hawk if you're carrying any weapon.

He's definitely going to feel as if he can't be vulnerable when you're around. You see him as this cool guy, and he kinda feels like he needs to keep that image for you so he doesn't disappoint you. The whole 'older sibling can't be vulnerable' mentality is burned into him at this point.

And if you ever get like... severely injured? Oh boy, you can bet your ass Toby will personally hunt down the person who hurt you if they aren't already dead.

It'll take Toby hours, maybe even days to calm down depending on how long it takes you to wake up. Slender will literally have to force him to eat because Toby will simply refuse to leave your bedside.

I don't think Toby would show it to you often, but he does view you as a younger sibling to him now. It's probably something he doesn't even want to admit because he's scared that if he does, you'll be torn away from him just like Lyra was.

All he knows is that he can't watch another sibling die in front of him. He simply cannot. So just bear with his suffocating protectiveness and don't put yourself in any unnecessary danger.

He certainly isn't the perfect role model for you, but he'll try his best to be the big brother that you deserve to have.

#anon #ticci toby #ticci toby & reader #ticci toby & you #creepypasta #creepypasta & reader #creepypasta & you #those r the platonic tags btw. to keep the platonic things sorted separately from the romantic things.

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owwwmyteeth · 4 months

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the thes‼️ {og pic under cut}

#starlight express #stex #dinah the dining car #cb the red caboose #bv the brake van #drawn as platonic but can b romantic if u want #these r my own designs btw #also hi stex im here now

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upsidedog · 1 year

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max mayfield is 7 years old, like kelly green and annie johnson, who are her best friends. she isn’t their’s, she knows this. like she knows kelly will live in a mansion, become a princess and drive a lamborghini with her twelve kids and husband, tom simon, her seat partner. kelly’s happy, obviously, she cheated, she always cheats at m.a.s.h, but max is happy for kelly anyway, she tells her. max is marrying annie’s dad, the other girls gag at the idea, she makes a joke about marrying rich “like grandma said my mom should’ve!” max laughs too loud, no response from the girls. “i’m glad she didn’t though cuz i love my dad…” she specifies. this embarrassment doesn’t stop her from squealing at her own barf joke later on, she repeats it in case kelly and ann didn’t hear. “she’s so annoying, do we have to keep hanging out with her? your guy’s moms aren’t even friends anymore.” kelly pleads after recess, max knows they know she can hear them.

max mayfield is 9 years old, she and billy hargrove recently became siblings, legally at least, billy would not call them that, max doesn’t care. and not in the way that she’s feigning chillness to seem on top of things, but in the way that she knows if she plays her cards right she can prove herself as someone worth calling a sister. “that jacket makes you look like a dyke.” billy says, he and his friends pool into the backyard. a month ago she’d ask if she could play with them, but she’s smarter now, she’s no longer a pussy, she’s a dyke, its change, it’s progress, she can work with it. “yeah, even more than usual.” one of the friends adds, everybody laughs. max remains focused on tightening the bolts of her skateboard and uses her free hand to flip the boys off. mentally she prays this is what playful sibling fighting looks like and not an action that will get her deck ripped away from her and broken against the concrete. it’s fine, the boys mock and jeer but don’t say anything she hasn’t heard before. another friend asks if she rides her skateboard or just pretends to be it’s mom. this is in reference to the time she convinced herself the boys were interested in knowing her and earnestly spoke about the mechanics of her skateboard, being too passionate, speaking too much, smiling too wide. all things she has since learned the right amount of is none. “i don’t know.” she gets up. “do you have a life or are you such a dweeb the only time you feel the need to get off your ass is to annoy a little girl with real hobbies?” when she walks off she hears the other boys gang up on him, he’s the new fool, all the other boys were just guilty of the same thing, but whatever. she thinks maybe if she maintains this for a little longer they can return back to the sibling conversation. they don’t even have to call it that, they could just do the part where they’re nice to each other sometimes.

max mayfield is 11 years old. jenny chen is a teenager, fifteen, from san francisco, short black hair, dresses like she’s on the cover of thrasher, first girl max has ever seen at the skate park who isn’t just there to watch. max wants to be her friend so bad it makes her stomach turn. until it happens. “i never see other girls who skate! it’s so cool to meet you, i’m jenny!” max knows. she ignores jenny’s invitation to fist bump. “do you really skate? or are you just someone’s girlfriend?” max knows the answer to the question, but she also knows the ending to this story. jenny pulls her hand back like max hit it. “yeah i skate, but i’m sure the boys here wish.” her laugh is refreshing, max didn’t know that was a thing laughs could be, it was so cool and light and confident, like it reset something in her. max wonders how someone can be so cool without any hit of cruelty, when max tells jenny she has to do a trick to prove it she shrugs and agrees like it wasn’t something said with the intention of upsetting her. jenny does an ollie off on the half pipe and asks if she can see any of max’s tricks. it makes max more upset that there’s no malice in this request, the audacity to show genuine interest in her. max is usually too mean but to jenny she cannot be mean enough. and typically she cannot do an ollie off a half pipe. today is no different. she falls and wakes up in the hospital. billy hands her flowers, rolls his eyes, then goes to wait in the car. max’s mom lets jenny apologize. it’s a real genuine apology, even though she has nothing to be sorry for it still feels good and different. max tells jenny to leave and never sees her at the park again.

max mayfield is 13 years old, she wonders if the group of boys yelling over dig dug are too. her initial annoyance with their hogging of her favorite game has melted into an admiration.. that’s too bold, curiosity, maybe. there’s arguments every other minute but between those there’s “oh wait! oh shit! lucas you genius! you genius!” whoever’s praising “lucas” gets so excited his friend progressed in the game the other boys have to pull him away. when the little one says he can’t see, no one mocks his size, instead the group instinctively makes room for their friend. and they’re all being too loud, too passionate, definitely taking the game too seriously. max wonders what it would be like to have something like that. she wonders how long they have all been friends for. do you have one chance for something like their’s as a child and then never again? has she missed her opportunity? could she even exist in an environment like that or would her cruelness be so sharp it’d cut through any moments tenderness? if she just walked up and asked to join what they’d say? answers for another day. maybe never. probably never.

max mayfield is 15 years old and mike wheeler’s basement is her favorite place in the whole wide world. which is why it’s the ideal location for her birthday party. sure billy is dead and el and will are moving next week, but ignore that, because yes will and el are moving away which is sad because they’re two of her best friends, but they’re two of her best friends, and she’s there’s. el is sitting on the floor with max making stupid jokes and max is clutching a pillow to her stomach, laughing like she’s alone, too much, too loud, dustin joins in and is even worse, she loves it. lucas interrupts, nudging her back with his foot. “this is the part you like.” he mouths, big, stupid, earnest, adorable smile on his face, so proud to remember. she’s proud of him too, swooned might be the better word, if she’s being honest. she likes him so much she wants to shrink herself into something small and accessible for him, but the worst part is that isn’t even what he wants from her. as much as max is trained to see the worst in others, lucas is real and warm and never says anything he doesn’t mean and he says he likes her. “thanks.” is all she can get out, trying not unravel from the affection. her last straw is mike and will marching down the basement stairs singing happy birthday. she’s clenching her teeth, mentally “don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry”-ing. she’s crying. it didn’t work, she’s crying. they’re doing this nice thing and she’s going to ruin the moment because she’s crying, they’re the best friends she’s ever had and she’s crying, they’re the only friends she’s ever had and she’s crying and they’re hugging her and laughing and she’s laughing and oh god, it’s good, she’s crying because she’s loved.

#stranger things #max mayfield #lumax #elmax #madwheeler #madcleric #idk any of the other pairing names (the 1s u’d think are platonic r platonic btw)#byler #<- idgaf them bringing that cake down the stairs was romantic #sorry for the longness and the me clearly not being a writerness i need a way to write fanfiction without writing fanfiction #tw d slur #cw d slur

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