#reading her lore crying and sobbing in the corner. shaking her like a can of soda
Note
can.. can I ask for an affectionate reader with characters who aren’t normally like… used to the love? like, not just through words but physical affection like hand-holding, kisses, hugs, all that shebang. probably with a few people like yelan, ei, basically any character that is either cut-off from society or seems socially distant or isolated. 😞
☆ affectionate reader with yelan, ei, & furina
[ 4.2 Archon Quest spoilers ]
× yelan
Varies between how you display your affection, to be honest. Just like being affectionate with people? She's cool with it as long as you don't pop by while she's working (mostly because she'll end up dragging you into it for a bit of fun). I don't think she's all that touchy feely herself, but she'll absolutely get you gifts instead– like pretty knick nacks? She'll make sure to snag any she thinks you might like. Like a good meal? Sure, she'll take you out to one of the restaurants in the city, doesn't matter how expensive. Her treat. If you do prefer physical gifts rather then being taken out, you'll eventually get used to the random unmarked letters and packages showing up where your staying pretty often. It's obvious to know who it came from even if she never signs anything.
Flirty reader, though? Whole nother can of worms and now it's a challenge. The more confident you are the more interested she is. The other acolytes would absolutely seethe at the idea but she has no hesitation at just straight up flirting back– she's as charismatic as they come and she's got a poker face that's basically impenetrable. She'll probably also make a bet to see who cracks first (she always wins, unsurprisingly). Probably won't get dragged into any of her schemes this way but if you ask politely maybe she'll consider it, anyway.
The smell of freshly brewed tea and the clatter of dice across wood was a common sight at the Yanshang Teahouse– less common was the woman secluded in the far corner, her lips pulled into a grin that flashed fangs and a look that would scare off the most confident of men.
She'd normally try to scope out any new blood that'd made the mistake of stepping into her teahouse and was equally stupid enough to accept a gamble against her just for the thrill of it, but she was far too absorbed in the warm body at her side, one of her die clasped tightly in their hand as she guided them through the motions– they had a knack for it, she had to admit. The thought made her preen, the clatter of the die as it rolled across the table giving her that subtle, familiar rush.
Even if she knew exactly where it'd land.
"Six. Hm, maybe you're just lucky," She muses, plucking the die from the table and holding it up to her eye like a prized jewel, "Or maybe you're not as innocent as you'd have us believe." There's a sharp glint in her eyes at the prospect, but everyone else has the sense to keep their heads down and their words to themselves as she tosses the die herself.
"So why don't we find out and make a bet, just between you and me?"
× ei
Varies between Ei and the Shogun, because you'll probably be seeing either as much as the other. Sometimes you gotta really squint to tell who it is sometimes, but you get used to it. Both are fairly similar, though, in that their first instinct (especially in public) is to tense up like you're about to attack them or something. Difference is Ei eventually relaxes after a solid minute of trying to process your sudden affection and, if no one else is around, she might even reciprocate. Just don't tease her for being a little stiff and awkward about it, she's trying. That's what happens when your only company is a robot and uh. Nothing. For like 500 years. She's trying. Raiden, on the other hand, is just about as awkward as you can imagine. She's polite (blunt) about it because Ei is fond of you and also you are. The Creator. But she's not really built to deal with personal relationships and so she doesn't know how to deal with affection.
..Depending on what you do you may or may not blue screen Ei hard enough that she retreats back to PoE
Ei usually isn't fond of sitting still, unless it's to meditate. At least then she goes in with a purpose, something to achieve– but now, she's just focused on trying not to make a fool of herself. Her muscles are starting to ache from how hard she's tensing, though, in an effort to sit as straight and still as possible as their hands glide through her hair, weaving it into a single braid.
She can just barely hear the subtle lilt of their voice as they hum– and though it is soothing, it is also..very distracting. She can't focus long enough to try and meditate, too lost in the gentle rise and fall of their voice and the care they take to braid her hair. If she'd had a heart, she'd sure it'd be beating so wildly against her ribcage they could hear it.
But then it stops– their hands fall back to their sides and their humming falters. She freezes, too, racking her brain for any slights she must have committed. Instead, she is met with a calm, tender touch on the back of her neck, making her inhale sharply.
"Am I making you uncomfortable, Ei? You're so tense.." She has to grit her teeth to stop herself from bowing so low her head presses against the ground, her hands folded in her lap, clenching instinctively. "..No, Divine One." She answers simply, trying to contain the adoration swelling in her chest.
Yet as much as she tries to relax, to ease their worries, she finds that she cannot.
"Hm." That small murmur, a simple sound that nearly made her jump, was the only warning she got before they scooted closer, wrapping their arms around her stomach and resting their chin on her shoulder with a grin she would liken to Miko's, if she dared to make such a comparison. "Really?"
She swears she must've been feverish at the affection, lightheaded and dazed until she thought she might simply perish at the brush of their hands against her own.
Much to her embarrassment, however, she doesn't realize she's instinctively pulled back into Plane of Euthymia until she sees the familiar dull purples engulf her vision once again.
Though only a small solace, it seemed a little..brighter, this time.
× furina
Varies between pre 4.2 and post 4.2 archon quests to be honest.
Pre 4.2 she comes off as very vain– of course the most Divine would see fit to spoil her with affection! She deserves it, and is obviously their favorite! Just don't look too hard because she's terrible at hiding how flustered she actually is. Absolutely goes home right after and screams into her pillow for at least thirty minutes minimum.
Post 4.2 she's a lot more openly bashful and flustered. She's really not used to affection and even the smallest show of it has her folding immediately. Now that she doesn't need to worry about being found out she's a lot more receptive to affection. Cup her cheeks and compliment her and her knees are buckling. Like. Especially weak for compliments and praise (she deserves it. please spoil her).
She swears she must be hallucinating– she had been having trouble sleeping recently. But..no. The visage of the Creator was as real as the sweat beading on her brow as she stared at them for a long, awkward moment. Should..she let them in? But then they'd see the pathetic state she was in, and the last thing she wanted to do was make a fool of herself in front of them-!
Her choice was quickly made for her, anyway, as she let out an undignified squeak of surprise when they suddenly tugged her forward into their chest, enclosing her in a hug.
Her first reaction was to freeze– her second was becoming absolutely flustered, her cheeks flushing a soft pink and her mouth closing and opening as she tried to find her words.
"I– ah..um." She stumbled over her words instead, floundering like a fish out of water. Yet she felt a distinct sense of emptiness wash over her when they finally pulled back, looking a touch sheepish. "Sorry, sorry– you just looked like you needed a hug."
The silence spoke for itself, her shoulders tensing slightly. But the way the concern and affection bled through their voice made her waver, her hands trembling as she let out a shaky breath that almost sounded like a sigh.
"It's..It's fine! Fine, I'm fine." She repeated, trying desperately to ignored the way her voice cracked and how hot her face felt– though it was more an attempt to affirm herself that she was not thinking about how warm they felt, how much she..actually enjoyed the hug. She wasn't thinking about it all! Absolutely not!
..Maybe a little.
"Just warn me next time, please?"
#asks#sagau#genshin sagau#self aware genshin#genshin impact sagau#self aware genshin impact#fic tag#genshin cult au#genshin impact cult au#yelan#furina#ei#THIS DIDNT SHOW UP IN MY INBOX UNTIL LIKE#NOVEMBERBIM SORRY IM ANSERRING IT SO LATE??????#tumblr working right is a miracle that will never happen#anyway can u tell i have. biases. there r so many characters I wanted to write for this (shenhe.........) but I forced myself to limit it#to 4 for my own sanity and everyones elses#also didnt know if u wanted just yan or sagau so I went for my specialty 🧍♂️#was gonna include my beloved cryo archon but decided against it#ei the pathetic lesbian that u r....mwah#I'm sorry this took so long it took me 50 yrs to figure out yelan.. 😭#i am still not confident abt my characterization of her but shes so good at her job even im confused abt her#reading her lore crying and sobbing in the corner. shaking her like a can of soda#checks note idk uhh cocky doesnt let herself form personal relationships charismatic uhhhhhhhh#idk dont ask me i just started praying and hoping for the best here#i think she'd get a kick out of getting reader into like. fudging rolls and shit. create an absolute menace out of reader#set them loose and see what chaos happens#just kicks back and watches it all unfold internally laughing her ass off#i didnt know whether to just do headcanons in uh. bulleted list or like#full on drabbles
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Smile for Me (Part 5) Zhongli x fem!reader
Summary: Zhongli never smiled at you the way that he smiled at his memories of Guizhong. Thinking that the only way Zhongli would ever be happy is for Guizhong to come back again, you secretly set off on a journey to bring her back to life. But it comes with a price: Your life.
Warnings: pining, angst, one-sided (at first), hurt, angst again, drama, some Guizhong x Zhongli, hints of Xiao x reader, MAY NOT FOLLOW THE ACTUAL LORE, not proofread.
Notes: This took longer than expected too. It’s just that I didn’t want to take too long explaining what happened and everything, I didn’t think that was the main focus, but my OCD self still wanted to include an explanation so...
Read: (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 6)
“I told you not to do anything reckless,” was the first thing you heard when you opened your eyes. You hadn’t even processed anything yet. Not where you were. Not who was talking. Not even who you were. It came back to you very slowly as the ceiling started to become clearer. You rolled your head sideways to see Xiao, arms crossed and glaring at you.
You blinked. As if missing pieces of your brain slowly coming back and you shot up from the bed, gasping. In alarm, Xiao stands as well and places his hands on your shoulders out of instinct. “What’re you doing?!” he hisses and you only look up at him, horrified. “Rex Lapis found out?” you whispered, eyes not hiding the fact that you were crestfallen.
If you were back, it only meant one thing. Someone took you back and you knew who it was. Xiao’s lips turn into a tight line, but he urges you to lay back down on the bed. Wangshu Inn. You recognize the decorations.
“Rex Lapis found out,” he confirms, but his fists ball up tight. Xiao himself had forgotten about you too, and the guilt he felt at that seemed to have increased his burdens. “...and he was enraged, Y/N, more so than normal,” Xiao explained and your shoulders slump, head down towards the hands on your lap.
“...and so was I... I warned you not to go to Wuwang Hill!” You winced at Xiao’s tone, but he had said nothing after that. You fell into silence as well. The only sound between you two were the birds chirping outside. “...I thought...” before you knew it the droplets were landing on your hands. Xiao stiffened up at the realization you were crying. “I thought it’d be better if she came back and I left,” your voice is barely above a whisper.
“I don’t know how to take care of him, Xiao. I don’t know how to serve Rex Lapis for him to be at ease, the way he was with Guizhong. I don’t know how to make him smile the way Guizhong makes him smile. I--” and your sobs are soft, because you hold them back, because the last thing you wanted to do was to come back and face Rex Lapis and his questioning gaze.
Xiao suddenly stands. Your eyes dart over to him in question. He’s looking at you with guarded remorse, and yet, his face is stiff. You blink up at him, and watch as he walks backwards off to the side and bows towards the door that you hadn’t noticed had opened.
Your eyes widen, amidst your tears you can see the unmistakable blur of Zhongli standing there. Expression unreadable.
In the next moment, Xiao has left the room.
You cannot process what just happened. He continues to stand there, as if a statue, the only indication that he was living was the soft rise and fall of his chest. A shiver runs down your spine and you wipe the remaining tears you had left, reduced to just sniffling under his gaze.
“You must be wondering what transpired,” Zhongli starts, but doesn’t make a move to come closer. Not really, you think. You didn’t really care about what happened. There was only a deep set embarrassment in your stomach.
“It turned out to be an evil spirit residing in the tree for millennia. Trapping lost souls...Chongyun and Xiao had to help me restrict her.” He seemed to take in a ragged breath. “It’s nothing short of a miracle that we got you safely out of her realm,” here his voice changes. The tone hiding a type of anger that was slowly boiling over, like a volcano about to erupt.
“I could not imagine what would force you to go through such lengths, Y/N,” you could see the bits of lava spurting out now. “and to discover that I was the reason. Xiao is correct. I was enraged in the process,” the volcano was rumbling, and you didn’t know how to escape it’s wrath, you only fiddled with your fingers. As if a child being scolded.
Surprisingly he ended his speech there, and the volcano had simmered down. Rex Lapis was not one to lose his cool, specially after hearing what you said, and finding out the reason for it. You could hear the unmistakable sound of his shoes walking over, but you refused to look his way and look him in the eye. You didn’t have to though, because his fingers touch your chin and gently moves it towards him.
“...But I was more unsettled because of my own shortcomings. My lack of ability to see through you and stop you,” he drops his hand when he was sure you were going to hold his gaze. “You have misunderstood, Y/N. Guizhong is a past memory, I’ve long since accepted it. But of course, no matter how much time has passed, I still cherish those memories,” He takes the chair that Xiao was previously on and even sitting, he’s still a tad taller than you who is on the bed. “And so how do you imagine I felt when I discovered you’d chosen to erase all memories of you? Those memories that I cherish?”
Your head moves to try and look away from him but he catches it yet again with his hand and levels a gaze on you. He doesn’t want you to look away. “There was nothing to grasp at,” he starts and you notice his voice descends into a whisper. “Nothing to remember you by, it was by sheer luck that I found out,” you see that something shifts in his gaze, an emotion you’ve never seen in his eyes before. “Despite remembering your face I could not recall your name.” He doesn’t say it but you can see the frustration in his golden orbs and your lips part in wonder. “I had only realized it then but forgetting you completely is...” he pauses, searching for the right words to say. “...is like losing myself,”
He takes his hand away from your face and fresh tears start to pool around your eyes. “...I’m sorry,” you croak out but he shakes his head. “The apologies...should be coming from me,” his hand then slips into a back pocket, and retrieves a small rectangular box. A golden one, something that you seemed to recognize but not completely.
“I had one made for you,” and hands it over. Your hands grasp around it delicately, and the front flap opens up to reveal a fa-zan hairpin, the crystal design at the end of it were...blue Forget-Me-Nots. The type of blue that usually matched your qipao. Your eyes widen a fraction, and your lips upturn at the irony and thoughtfulness of it all the same. At the corner of your eye he seemed to relax at the expression on your face, but he covers one of your hands with his and you look at him curiously.
“Please do not think that I have done this out of pity,” Zhongli, in some ways, knew you quite well. “It’s something...that I should have done a while ago, but my own inadequacies and hesitance had prevented me,” he takes your hand, and as his eyes close, his lips presses on your knuckles briefly.
“But there is no rush, Y/N, I will gain your trust back, as it deserves to be gained,”
His lips part from your hand, and his eyes gaze upon yours.
“I will protect you, as you deserve to be protected,”
and then there’s an unmistakable fire of determination in his eyes.
“and if you allow it... I will court you as you deserve to be courted.”
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à deux
Day 1 Prompt: Rain
@sasusakublankperiodweek
Ao3 | FFN | ↓
“Cold,” he croaks, like unhinging an old metal joint. Instead of the weight of unused years, it’s the weight of unshed tears. The strain in his voice zigzags, lost, falls into its baritone groove. “You always are, when it rains.”
Upon awakening in the bleak dawn, the day’s significance settles on them — at once a burdening melancholy and poignant relic.
At first blush it could be any morning, but as shinobi experienced with the passage of years and the disorientation of traveling dimensions, both are loath to disregard the importance of date and time.
He’s standing at the window. You would assume he’s still lost in a daze of sleep.
Sakura gently presses her cold (they’re always cold, on days like this, days in which it pours and rain floods the countryside and small villages and cleans the dust from these everyday, hard lives) fingertips to his back, alerting him to her presence. Still they are in the phase of learning the lore of one another despite all the things already known, and it is the truest labor of love.
“We should stay one more day,” she says quietly. He hasn’t acknowledged, but hasn’t resisted.
Some days, that’s good enough.
But she overdoes it; that’s who she is. Love may be gentle but her manner of it isn’t always: Indeed, she is fierce with people that rub her the wrong way, especially those invoking his name out of turn; she eats too fast, as indulgence; she hugs children too tightly when she knows she’ll never see them again, knowing that they are ships flickering through towns, some benevolent symbol of an oppressor they’re too young to put a face to.
Today is the anniversary of death. Over time they’ve both come to know this as an old friend, but this is Sasuke’s most notable scar.
Sakura cannot reach him on days like this, and that’s okay.
“The rain, after all. Traveling in this would be a pain — we’ve tried that before.”
She slides her arm around his waist, pressing her cheek to his warm back.
Don’t cry. It’s not your day. Don’t be so emotional.
Tears escape, they always do. To his credit, he never resents it.
Even with him now, his equal, there are bouts of disbelief and self-loathing in which all she manages to do is convince herself nothing about her is helpful, that she’s still yearning for him to turn around.
Now the other arm, hanging on to him as if he’s unwieldy, as if he’ll sink into the chilled wood floor and out of her sight for good.
Sasuke’s hand and grip are warm, flash and fire. She knows this is in more ways than one — unspeakable ones, really.
Some grunt of assent, no fully-formed word at all, but she hears him swallow hard, once. It’s easy to, in a small corner of the world which hasn’t yet begun its day.
Hot fingers, frigid arms.
“Cold,” he croaks, like unhinging an old metal joint. Instead of the weight of unused years, it’s the weight of unshed tears. The strain in his voice zigzags, lost, falls into its baritone groove. “You always are, when it rains.”
Sakura resists the urge to click her tongue at his misdirection, the veneer to gloss over his emotional state.
“I’m all right, Sasuke-kun.”
“Hm.”
“I am! It just settles into my hands, that’s all. It’s close to an equinox, you know. The seasons are turning.”
(He’d never admit he likes that about her — nervy, a little more quick to correct, less scared, and that it’s brought him some delight, some sparkle to her that continues to surprise him.)
She feels him scoff under his breath, probably at her ability to pinpoint their location in time, in space, in the universe no matter where they are. When you save lives on seconds of analysis, on minuscule doses, these things become instinctive.
So of course, she knows what today is.
Pressing her nose into his shoulderblade, she says, muffled, “Should I call for tea, then?”
It’s a long beat before he nods, knowing that she’ll have to let him go to complete this task, leaving him alone at the drafty window — the chill having a chance to seep into the cracks in his soul.
They’re always less protected on these days.
.
.
The sleeves of his shirt always drown her wrists and hands, and though she has to flick and adjust them as she moves about the inn room, it’s one of her favorite ways to trap heat against her body. It’s not as cold as the caves they’ve sometimes inhabited, but close. Though the teapot scalds, it’s welcoming.
“It’s steady,” she muses, eyes on the persistent rain. “The whole village will be quiet today, in weather like this.”
Sasuke nods in response with unfocused eyes, collecting himself to meet hers. Green, watching him in a searching way. The way he does to her on all other days, seeking signs of regret or distress or any emotion within his ability to repair or ease. At once, old lovers and new.
A memory sears, a sharp grazing against the mind: A low table, scattered small dishes like this with food remnants vivid, colorful; a sullen father, the corners of his mouth sagging; his mother beaming, hiding laughter behind her hand.
A brother, by then already burdened and saturated with the weight of his destiny, still finding the almost offensive wherewithal to poke him in the face.
“You haven’t touched anything,” she chides gently.
Tuning in again to them, this, arriving momentarily from his sojourn of the past, his eyes flicker to her own messy plate. Lately she’s only pushed food around in the mimicry of an indulged meal. Worries about her being sick. She just blusters, waving away concerns. (I’m a medic, for god’s sake, I’d know!)
“And you,” he responds, indicating her own dregs with his rude, handsome chin.
She shrugs, burying deeper into his shirt. “Perhaps it’s just the day.”
“You’re coddling, aren’t you? I don’t need that.”
It comes sharper than expected, and he regrets it the second it leaves his lips. He imagines what Itachi would say, knowing he possesses a great love which he’s taken for granted time over, time again. He’d reprimand him, as he should.
Often he settles for his ex-sensei’s silent admonitions instead.
Finishing a sip of tea, she sets the mug down and sighs. Getting to her feet, she collects a few scrolls she’s been poring over the last few nights and looks at him, a bit less readable this time.
“You’re allowed to feel this, you know, Sasuke-kun. You’re allowed to love, and you’re allowed to hurt.”
She half-turns, but stops and adds,
“And you can even feel it all at the same time.”
Sakura retreats to the corner where one of the few furnishings sits. A chair, large enough for her to fold herself into and unravel her resources. A plant discovered in this new region they had crossed into last week, similar and yet different enough to pique her interest and spur her to research. She’s been lost in common roots, and he’s been mired in the loss of his old ones.
The ability of the mind to experience multiple things at once is truly remarkable. To an observer he watches her study with intent as she furrows her brow, yawns often throughout. Sasuke can see her as well as his past all at once.
Anniversaries of his dead loved ones shouldn’t mean so much. After all, he’s been alive without them longer than with.
Sasuke wishes he could explain that her presence is enough. That her loving him has been enough.
“We could still go through the traditions, if you’d like. Collect what we need. I know,” and her breath hitches, and she glances away under his dark eyes, probably feeling she’s pressing, said too much, “there’s no grave to do it with, but—”
“It’s fine.” He tries, he does, to say it with less bite. Gods, he’s transparent, his pain and denial. He’s not ready yet. Will he ever be?
“This is your day to grieve,” she says softly. “You should do that however you choose. No one can tell you how to feel — not even me.
Even me. He knows she knows his weakness. Watches her yawn again and awkwardly adjust her body, as if her own skin is uncomfortable, blink and he’d miss.
“There’s nothing I want to do,” he confesses, sounding hoarse against his will. “Nothing at all.”
A pause, a long one, in which the rain sings against the roof.
“Then you don’t have to,” she says. “You just grieve.”
And so he does.
Pretends to read.
Stares out the window.
Lingers in the discomfort of his own skin.
Paces.
Touches no food, lapses into a mausoleum silence so complete the lines of them blur against their own dimension.
He can feel his brother’s touch, and she can feel his agony.
She rises periodically, offering him tea, sliding her arms around him from behind again. He alternates between silence and quiet shakes that he’d never admit were sobs.
By dusk he’s in her lap, hair mussed and wild, feeling spent from everything and nothing at all, from wandering in the better memories of a brother he can’t bring back.
It slips from his lips in a moment of weakness, it hurts.
“I know,” she whispers, pulling her fingers gently through his untamed locks. “It always might. But don’t forget, every day has the same number of hours.”
It’s not until they lie down again, the day a simultaneous blur of grief and guilt, that she says in a soothing whisper, “And look, darling — you’ve made it through another. You always do.”
And while he can’t articulate that each year it’s a little more muted, the pain easing off him as they pass, if only marginally, he manages to thank her only in twilight when he’s spared from knowing if she can hear him at all.
.
.
On the second day of rain he awakens before her, an arm curled around her stomach in a way that aligns with some adagio ballad pouring from where, he doesn’t know, the universe, some sign, and as intelligent as he is the facts are slipping from him whether due to the haze of sleep or the turmoil of his ghosts, the way the dead and the living and the coming to life knot themselves with one another, soaking him with an instinct and some sense of surety so intoxicating that he buries his face in her long, wild hair where nothing can see his face, but she will know his heart.
If everything’s a cycle, then the old and new must cross paths in their rotations.
The darkness bleeds away and he realizes she’s waited to spill the joyous news, not wanting to acknowledge that alignment of the stars to spare his feelings, and for that he is endlessly grateful and guilty.
But he likes to think his brother, despite his faults, would have liked to know he continued forward, that he accepted the love he didn’t feel he deserved and tried, desperately, to welcome life anew.
Sasuke presses his lips to the back of her neck, and his warm hand against her stomach.
“It’s still raining,” she murmurs, still in the place between wakefulness and dreams.
He thinks he feels the flutter of his future against his palm. He only whispers,
“Let’s stay here for now.”
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Alien! Dabi x Reader. Smoke and Mirrors.
Okay okay, so TECHNICALLY. This is a part 2, from my last part to this series. If you aren’t completely caught up, I recommend at least reading Mirio’s part before this one. There’s some lore in here to answer questions I get!
Here is a link to my master list so you can get caught up---> Master List
Warnings: Quite a bit darker than usual, you all asked for it. Ovipositor kink, mention of death. Manipulation.
“Take a deep breath. It might hurt, but you can do it.”
I gripped my chest and coughed hard, a fowl tasting liquid splattered against the cold ground by my face. I gagged on the taste and coughed again. “Can you see yet?” The voice talking to me was sweet and soft, a gentle hand touched my head and I grabbed their wrist. I peeled my eyes open, I felt their other hand wipe something sticky off of my face. It’s blurry, but I can see a bit better now. “Listen I know you must feel like shit, but we have to hurry honey, can you stand up?” She hooked her arm underneath mine and pulled me up to my knees. “I- I can stand...”
My stomach turned and bile burned the back of my throat. “Don’t puke!” I looked up at the girls face. She’s small and blonde, her cheek is swollen like something recently slapped her, she’s wearing a jumpsuit that looks like it used to be white but was stained by something green. I looked down at my own body, I have the same outfit. “My name is Anna, we’re not safe here.”
The sound of footsteps echoed against metal not far from here. “We need to hide.” She took my hand and crouched down, I copied her movements, trying to make myself seem small. “What’s going on? Where am I?” She yanked me down to the ground, pulling me behind a pile of discarded machines. Each machine looked like some type of pod, leaking green slime. They stacked on top of each other, glass cracking and loose parts scattered around. She slammed a hand over my mouth and whispered in my ear. “Don’t scream, whatever you see-” Her breathing faltered as she hushed her voice even further. “Just don’t scream.”
“I don’t know why we didn’t grab more T’s, that should have been way harder than it was.” The man that walked into the room was hardly a man at all, it was a walking upright green lizard. He was completely covered in scales head to toe. “Yeah that was easy.” The other man looked relatively normal, but he has black mask covering his face. “No it wasn’t!” The same man contradicted himself. “Hey wait where did that one go? Her pod is empty!” The lizard man rushed to a container half filled with the green goo. “Oh shit, shit shit shit-” The masked man slammed his hand on a red button on the wall. The sound of an alarm blared, the lights in the ceiling flashed red. “He’s going to fucking kill us! Dabi didn’t want her to wake up until we got to Home-” The lizard man shouted over the terrible buzzing sound. “You don’t think I know that? Spread out!” The odd pair ran into the hall, a metal door slid out from the wall and slammed shut. “What was that thing?” I hissed out as soon as Anna took her hand off of my mouth. “They’re both aliens. We’re on a ship.” She looked over the top of the mechanical pile. “I think I found a way off of it, but I was scared to go alone.” Her eyes glistened with tears. “Do you remember getting abducted?” She took an elastic band off of her wrist and pulled my sticky hair off of my neck into a little bun. I still feel terribly groggy, I feel like I’ve been asleep for days.
I don’t remember much. I remember smelling the smoke of burning buildings and gun fire.
“I don’t remember anything. I’m from NYC...” Anna sounds American, but her voice has a bit of a southern draw. “I’m so glad you speak English...” She muttered a bit under her breath. “It wouldn’t matter, I’d just be happy to have someone with me. The label on your pod say’s your name is Y/N? Is that true?”
I nodded my head. “I think so...”
“You poor thing... you remind me of my best friend...” Anna’s jaw trembled for a minute and she flinched like something touched her. “I’d love to sit here and get to know you better, but we have to move.”
As sweet as she is, her eyes look far away. The shudder, the tremble, her side ways glances.
What have they been doing to this girl?
“There’s a smaller ship in the hanger, it has an auto pilot... it can take us back to Earth.” She smiled, it wasn’t a happy smile.
It was a desperate, terrible smile.
She stood up and felt around the wall for some type of button that could open the door. I stood on shaky legs and followed close behind, trying to help. The panel holding the red alarm button had only one other button. She pressed it repeatedly. Nothing happened.
“No no no please...” She slammed her fist against the button and choked on a sob. I grabbed her hand and pulled her away. She looked at me with a bit of fear, my touch making her jump. I pressed the red button at the same time as the smaller button. The door shot open, Anna giggled happily and clapped her hands. “You did it! I knew I was right to wake you up!” She grabbed my hand and pulled us into the hall.
It doesn’t seem like anyone is around.
“Do you know how to get to the escape ship?” I couldn’t whisper, the sound of the alarm is too loud. I spoke just short of yelling. Anna cocked her head to the side and put a finger on her chin. “Well, no, but I mean this place can’t be that big, right?”
I dragged my hand across the metal walls, we walked as close as we can to the sides of the hallway. Anna stopped us and peered around the corner. “I don’t think anyone is coming this way...”
“Hey Anna...” I tugged on her hand. “What do they want from us? I- I have to admit I’m scared...” Anna’s head whipped around to look at me, at first her face was filled with fear. Her contorted look of shock twisted, and she chuckled a bit, her eyes glazing over. Anna gripped her stomach and looked me dead in the eye. “They want to use us as baby incubators.” She laughed again. “That’s all the universe thinks we’re good for I guess! Baby fucking makers!” Her body was shaking. She lowered her voice and put her mouth next to my ear so I can hear her. “If they find us... Don’t let them touch you with their spit.” She grabbed my face to see if I understood. I nodded my head and nodded back.
Anna yanked my arm around the corner. “We need to keep moving.” She broke into more of a run than before. “Before the parasites find us!” She was frantic and making a lot of noise. “Anna stop! We need to think!”
I pulled her back just in time. A wall of blue fire erupted a few feet ahead, Anna fell back into my arms with another scream.
“Well well well, look who’s causing all of the trouble!” Anna tried to wiggle out of my arms, she screamed ‘no’ repeatedly and broke into panicked sobs. “Anna stop!” I held her tight and covered her head with my arms, holding her close to my shoulder. “If Shigaraki knew what you’ve been up to, well...” The man talking to us stepped closer, his silhouette becoming more complete in the lighting. At first, he looked like a normal person. A tall, lanky man with black hair that jutted out in every direction. He kept both hands in his pockets, and his face looked bored.
His body is heavily scarred, with only a few patches of skin that’s not damaged tissue.
“Well I think he would be a little hurt, don’t you? Why don’t you be a good female and run on back to your mate, this has nothing to do with you.” Anna wasn’t listening to his words. She sobbed into my shoulder, shaking her head no. “G-go away!” She screamed in my ear, but I know it’s not directed at me.
The man stepped closer with a slight smirk on his mouth. The light reflected off pieces of metal attached to his face. “Leave her alone!” I cradled her closer to me, shouting over the roar of the fire and her choking cries. “She’s not really what I’m concerned about...” He purred, his voice low and raspy as he closed the space between us. “I didn’t want us to meet this way, you must be so confused. Why don’t you come with me so we can have a talk?” I shook my head no and tried to move Anna so she was hiding behind me. She clutched desperately onto my clothes. “I know exactly what you want and I won’t do it...” I pushed the words out of my throat in a squeak. He put an arm against the wall, towering over me. “Aw doll face, I would never wanna do something that would hurt you.” His face is stoic and stern, not matching his tone of voice at all. “You have me so misunderstood.” He cleared his throat and smirked. He spit without even puckering his lips. Anna grabbed my face and pulled me out of the way, his stream of saliva smacking against her hand. She screeched as her skin sizzled and steamed. “Ah fuck, look what you did-” She slammed her burning hand into the side of his face, knocking him back off of us.
She shouted a terrible, guttural cry.
“Run!”
We sprinted away hand in hand, the smell of singed metal getting farther from us. Our bare feet slammed against the floor, it stings with every step. “We need a plan!” Anna heard me and nodded, she stopped so abruptly I almost ran past her. The wall slid half way open after she pressed her hand to touch screen panel. It creaked like a very old elevator door, and was even louder shutting behind us. “You need to hide.” She put both of her hands on my chest and shoved me towards the wall. “What about you?” I tried to fight her. “If Shigaraki finds me I can throw them off of your trail. You’ll be able to escape.” She swallowed hard, she was speaking much more calmly now. “I- I don’t understand I thought you wanted me to come with you...”
She smiled softly. “When I saw you asleep in that goo, my heart ached. I couldn’t let this happen to another innocent girl.” She wiped a strand of stray hair off of my cheek. “You reminded me of someone I knew before any of this, my best friend, my sister. If you make it back to Earth just watch out because...” She looked over her shoulder, someones coming. “There! The vent!”
“I don’t want to leave you! I’m still so confused!” I shook her shoulders. Anna ignored my pleas and shoved me further to the wall. An air duct cover hung loosely on the wall, the opening looked wide enough for me to crawl in. She lifted me just enough for me to be able to pull myself into the wall. I quickly oriented myself to face her again as she replaced the cover. I backed up to get further away from the metal, and laid completely still. Anna looked my direction with a smile before throwing herself to the ground, screaming . She rocked herself back and forth dramatically, crying out a name I’d never heard before. “Tomura!” She screamed, her throat catching her sob and sending out the name with a coarse terror. The door flung open and the frame was filled with a tall, lanky looking man. He touched the side of the door with a firm grip, the veins in his pale hands popping out as the metal underneath his touch began to suddenly turn to dust. He looked down at the ground through long hair, his eyes were piercing and a sick smirk spread across his face. Anna stopped crying and crawled over to the man, he bent his knees and squatted over her, guiding her chin to look up at him. “I hate fighting with you. Don’t you understand that I’m what you need to be happy? I would give you the entire universe if you would just...” His voice tightened, his tone shifting into something more unpleasant. “If you would just behave.” Anna threw her arms around him and cradled her head into his shoulder. She took a finger and traced over parts of his neck, small flaky patches of irritated skin. “I promise I’ll be good Tomura!” She squeezed him tighter. “I just missed having.. female friends. It’s so lonely when you’re busy.”
The man twirled her messy hair in his long spindly fingers. “You’ll learn to love this way of life, it’s not like it’s any better on Earth, Anna. We may all be an island of misfit toys! But...” He kissed her forehead. “We’re all a family.”
Anna gently lifted her head off of him and cracked a smile.
She laughed, softly at first and gradually grew until she was cackling with her arms gripping her stomach. The man just smiled at her. “You’re right Tomura! We are all a family!”
My heart started racing, something was wrong. Anna was supposed to be pretending to want to stay, right? I wormed myself backwards farther away from the vent and into the tight duct way. They can’t see me in here can they? My sight of what was happening blurred just a bit, now that I can’t peer through the grate. Another voice entered the room, and I felt just a bit warmer. Like something was breathing down my neck. A gnawing feeling of anxiety.
“I’m so glad you and your mate are living crazily ever after over here, but we still have a problem Shigaraki.” The condescending voice said. “She woke up my T. The whole ship is on alert and YOUR mate knows where she is.”
“Oh my Anna wouldn’t be hiding anything from me... she knows that keeping secrets is such a fun way to really make me mad.” Shigaraki hissed out the last few words. Anna giggled again. “I know where she is! Y/N, come out so we can be a family!” Anna’s voice was closer to the wall now. I froze, I see her fingers reach up and try to adjust the grate.
I panic and shuffle further backwards, my heart lurches into my stomach as I feel the metal under my legs disappear. I try to crane my neck and look over my shoulder and I can see that the vent drops off and shoots straight down.
I have two choices, be pulled out of this air duct and thrown into whatever mess is happening out there.
Or fall.
“Hey what are you doing? It’s okay Y/N don’t be scared!” Anna called out, her face was wet with tears but she was displaying a wide toothy smile. She stuck her dainty hand out and reached for me.
I’m tempted to take it. A million things are running through my head, but none of the thoughts are connecting.
I can hardly remember anything before waking up and seeing Anna. I remember feeling terrified, hungry, exhausted. Like I had been running from something for days, but it was always two steps behind me.
In the split second I take to think about all of this I reach my hand out gently, Anna’s finger tips just inches from mine.
A pair of turquoise eyes appeared behind her. His presence made Anna jump and pull her hand away out of the vent. I gasped, his stern face showing no emotion as he spoke. “Now what are you doing hiding in there?”
Earlier with the adrenaline pumping through me as we were running I hadn’t been able to stop and think clearly for a second.
I don’t remember much about myself, I think I like to play the guitar. I remember objects, and smells of food I like.
With his voice speaking to me again I remember one thing clearly, like the sound of a gong vibrating and rocking my head.
I remember him.
“You can’t hide forever Y/N!” The alien called out from the side walk. How did he know my name? I lifted the slab of drywall that blocked the entrance to the hole I’ve been living in and gently set it down after crawling inside. I tried to keep my footsteps silent, avoiding touching any rocks of stepping on shards of glass.
That’s when I smelled it, the smell of smoke. I looked through a crack in the bricks and saw him. He lifted a hand lazily and blue flames erupted from his arms and ignited the dust and fallen wood on the ground. They quickly spread to the debris of my apartment.
I’m not the only one squatting here. Other families have taken to the structure, some with small children. It’s not completely safe, but pieces of it still have a roof to protect us from the weather.
The flames spread quickly. I screamed, begging that the other survivors could hear me and run. Things were being swallowed within seconds, the few entry points quickly disappearing.
He locked eyes with me through the crack and grinned. “Nowhere to run to now, mouse. If only you’d have listened to me, maybe these pathetic humans would have lived.” He shouted and I closed my eyes, the smoke filling my lungs and making me suddenly very tired. When I hit the ground, I felt him. I felt him pull me into his arms, but after that.
Everything was dark.
“Y-you...” I whispered, barely able to speak.
The alien squinted his eyes a bit.
Before I let him speak, I pushed my hands against the metal vent, my palms squeaking as I propelled myself backwards.
My chin hit the metal and scratched me as I fell. My back scraped against the metal chute, tearing at the thin clothing I have on. I closed my eyes, certain I’d hit the ground soon, breaking my legs and possibly my spine. Hopefully it kills me right away so I don’t have to lay there and suffer.
The wind was knocked out of me when I hit something soft. I clawed at my chest for a second, gasping until I sucked in the air I desperately needed. I’ve landed in a discarded pile of.. laundry?
Smocks similar to the one I was wearing were piled high, I was swallowed by them, completely covering everything but my head. This room is poorly lit, a dim green light flickered over head, but other wise it’s completely dark. I desperately clawed at the clothing, pushing it off of me and crawling to the hard, damp tile. My whole body shook and I looked around.
There’s not much here, the ceiling is very tall and there are a lot of pieces of metal thrown about the room. Another vent pointing downwards like the one I just fell from was over a sharp looking pile of metal, lot’s of parts that would have impaled me if I fell just a few feet away.
I gathered my footing and stood on trembling knee’s. It’s cold, my skin is covered in goose bumps.
A strange pod, about the size of a large van sat in the middle of the room. It was rounded, and the door was open with a metal ramp sticking out of it.
Could that be the ship?
I stumbled to it, a hopeful smile plastered on my tired face.
It was easy to step inside, it felt a bit more roomy in here than it looked from the outside. I stood without my head touching the ceiling. With another step towards the dash, the room lit up, buttons and screens whirring and coming to life with the sound of a fan blowing. It looks complicated, a few symbols appear but I don’t recognize them as letters I’ve ever seen before. Panic starts to set in, I’m not even sure where to begin. What does any of this mean?
“Well, I’ll admit you’re pretty smart. I like that.”
I turned around to that deep voice. “But what is your plan now? Find a way to pilot back to Earth with no rations, and no idea how much oxygen this thing has in it?” He leaned against the wall and looked at me with almost a face of disinterest. “Putting aside the fact that we are an entire universe away from Earth right now...” He slowly blinked at me. “Why go back?” He asked with a slight smile. He paused, waiting for my response. I swallowed hard and thought about what I was going to say. “It’s... my home.” I whimpered out.
“Is it though? Earth is crumbling. Society has collapsed, the survivors are the people scummy enough to hurt others and take what they want without repercussion.” He stepped towards me, making my heart slam against my chest. he stepped past me and pressed a few buttons on the dash and a video appeared on the windshield. “This is where that girl you met is from, Anna.”
It was aerial footage, like it was being filmed from a drone, but the people below didn’t seem to notice they were being watched.
Men stood in the beds of trucks with large guns. They had them pointed at young men who had their hands on their head, kneeling down as crying girls were dragged by their arms into the vehicles. A man stood up and rushed for a screaming blonde child, she looked like she couldn’t have been older than 12. The men on trucks didn’t hesitate to shoot him down, his blood splattering on the clothes of the girl he tried to rescue.
She couldn’t even scream.
I covered my mouth in horror. “Wh- what are they doing to those girls?”
He sat down in a cushion chair, sitting back and relaxing a bit. He leaned his head on his elbow. “They’re collecting surviving women and auctioning them off for rations. They claim they’re trying to help repopulate the planet.” He smirked a bit. “They believe that they are the superior men, more masculine and deserve to pass on their genetics more than the men not willing to resort to violence. Anna was almost a victim to this.” He snapped his fingers and the footage shut off. “She’s much better off here.”
“How is what you’re doing here any different?” I spoke with a bit of confidence, my fear slowly being replaced with anger. “And what are we doing here?” He asked with a lift of his eyebrows.
“Anna told me, she said you plan to use us as incubators for your alien offspring.” I wasn’t yelling, his question threw me off. I answered like I was also asking a question back.
“I won’t lie, some of my actions go against what the society I come from deems as “normal” or “acceptable” but who’s to say that the King is always right?” He started, still leaning casually as he talked to me. “None of that has anything to do with you, baby doll. See I have something to offer you that you could never find back on that rock.” He tried to smile a sweet look, but his bright eyes flashed me a glimpse of something wicked. His line of intrigue caught me like a fish hook. I lowered my guard, just a bit. “And... and what is that?” I grabbed my arms, suddenly feeling self conscious about the way that I looked right now, battered and a bit dirty. “Unconditional love and happiness, for the rest of your life.”
I expected him to say that he had some type of alien knowledge, or money to offer me if I complied with his request. “See humans are often real superficial don’t you think? The way you look matters, how much money someone makes. Where they come from and how much value the community gives them. A lot of things get in your way, preventing you from having everything you want. But you baby, you are so, so lucky.” He stuck out his hand, reaching it towards me. Something inside of me told me to take it, I fought the urge for a minute. He smiled and leaned farther, taking my hand in his and holding it softly. I noticed pieces of metal stuck out of his arm in places, holding his skin together. His fingers had calluses on them, but the rest of his hand was soft. “You never have to worry about any of that, if you kiss me one time, you’ll never feel anything but happiness again. I can make all of your dreams come true.”
“Wait you love me?” I asked confused. He gently pulled on my hand, moving me into his lap in a smooth fluid movement. He brushed my hair away from my face and looked at me with that wolfish grin. Like he’s unable to smile without looking suspicious. My heart slammed against my chest. “When you were back on Earth, before the end of your world, what did you want to be baby? What was your wildest dream?”
I tried to think hard, only flashes of memories ran through my head, nothing solid. I remembered going to school, I can see my campus. It felt pleasant to remember the classroom, but it looks off. It looked young, big letters on the walls with small chairs and seats. I remember the smell of coffee and art supplies. “I think I wanted to be a teacher...” He moved his hand down my spine and settled on my lower back. “How sweet, we could use someone as smart as you here. We don’t get all the luxuries the Kingdom has to offer, we have to survive on our own. We could use someone as bright as you to help teach all the sweet children who will be running around soon.” He purred into my ear. “And I’ll give you the perfect family, my boss promised us land on the dwarf planet we’ll be staying on for awhile. I’ll build you a house and you can decorate it anyway you like.” He spoke right against my ear while rubbing small circles along my spine. Chills ran up my back and neck. Anna’s words rang through my head suddenly like a gong. It was like she change the minute that man kissed her forehead, her entire plan thrown out the window.
Don’t let them touch you with their spit.
He must have noticed my sudden change in demeanor. I tried to scramble and pull myself out of his lap, but he gripped my back and held my face in place with his other hand. “And here I thought we were getting somewhere...” He growled under his breath and smirked. My chest heaved as I started to hyperventilate. I squirmed, trying to shake him off. His firm grip barely had to adjust from my thrashing to still keep me firm in his lap. He stuck out his tongue, long strands of thick spit connected the roof of his mouth with his tongue. I winced, expecting it to burn me like his spit hurt Anna before. His slimy appendage dragged along my jawline and up my cheek. He playfully grabbed my ear lobe and bit down a little.
It didn’t hiss and burn, it was warm for just a second before my entire body heated up. The anxiety and fear I was feeling melted away, and I felt my shaky limbs calm and steady. “See isn’t that so much better?”
“Y-yes.” I gripped onto his shirt and pulled myself closer to him, resting my face on his scarred neck. “See? I wouldn’t lie to you. Let’s go back to my room so we can finish our talk...”
Six months later.
I sat a little cold by the glass window. It had a light green frost growing on the edges. It still surprises me that the “water” here has a fluorescent hue. The nature outside was quiet like it is on Earth winters, but small and strange creatures would walk by occasionally and take a look at our greenhouse, wondering how to get inside and steal some of our food. I’ve been documenting them and their behaviors, trying to soak up everything about this place before we move again.
We don’t stay places long. Dabi will disappear for awhile, often coming back exhausted and injured. He doesn’t talk about what he was up too, but the more time I spend here the more I realize that it’s probably better that I don’t know. The watch he gave me rang from the other room. I left my hot drink on the window sill and stepped into the kitchen. I clicked the button answering Anna’s call. Her face appeared in a hologram projected over the watch. “Hey Anna, how are you and the babies today?”
“They’re back! Tomura just called to tell me that they landed!” She said excitedly. “Oh! And the babies should be here any day now! I’m getting as big as a whale.” She smiled happily. “But I just called to tell you that they landed.” She trailed off for a minute. “I think I’m going to pack the bags. Tomura did not sound happy, I think we’re going to move again.” She said sort of quiet. “I thought he promised you would deliver here? You already made your nest.” It’s only been a few weeks, we’ve barely settled. Our food reserves are getting lower, we needed to grow more and gather more resources here. “I... I know. But Tomura always knows best. He’s the leader for a reason...” She said with a smile, but her confidence wavered in her voice. “Anna, I’m worried that what they’re doing is a lot worse than they are making it out to be...” I tread carefully, it’s been long enough sense we’ve seen our mates that Anna should have a bit more mental clarity. When Tomura is home, it’s like she has no thoughts of her own. “Don’t start this again. Tomura wouldn’t lie to us. He’s doing work for the greater good.”
“I’m just worried. If it’s so good why can’t we live on Home World? Why can’t they tell us anything?” I looked over my shoulder to make sure Dabi wasn’t standing behind me. “Stop it Y/N! You know they said Home World is dangerous. They’re working to free the citizens of Home World from the tyrant. They don’t tell us anything because it’s not our job to worry about it. WE are the good guys.”
“But Anna I found something in Dabi’s stuff, they’re killing-”
“STOP!” She yelled into the receiver. She choked on a cry. “I don’t want to hear it!” She sniffled. “If you know what’s good for you you’ll stop asking questions.” Her face disappeared and the watch was quiet, she hung up. I set down the watch and sighed in frustration. I grabbed another glass to make Dabi a hot drink for when he came home. I poured the liquid and held it for a second, just letting the steam reach my chin.
I turned around and dropped the cup to the ground, it’s metal so it hits the floor with a loud sound but doesn’t break. Dabi was standing against the doorway with a dark look on his face. “Oh hi honey. You’re back.” I said with a smile.
“Did I scare you?” He asked, glancing down at the spilled liquid.
“I didn’t hear you come in.” I reached for a cloth hanging on the wall and he grabbed my wrist. I flinched and he looked at me funny. “What has you so jumpy, love?” He pulled me into his arms and put a hand in my hair, running his fingers along my neck and scalp. “I missed you.” He said against my head. I said nothing for a moment. He smelled heavily of smoke. “I have a surprise for you.” He said, pulling himself away so he can look at my face. “What is it?”
“We’re taking a bit of a vacation.” He had his hands on my sides and rocked us a bit as we stood there. “A vacation?”
“Yeah we uh, have decided that some of our efforts are being wasted at the minute. We need time to recoup, ground ourselves and come back stronger.” He lead us to our pile of bedding and pulled us down so that I was laying on his chest. “So we’ll have time to bond more, I haven’t seen you in so long. We’ll have some time to start our little family.”
I stiffened a bit. We’ve had this conversation a lot, I’ve thought of every excuse in the book. I’ve gotten away without breeding because he’s been gone a lot. “You think it’s a good time to start having kids?” I asked quietly.
“Don’t you? I’ll be able to be here for the whole gestation. We have the next location of where we’re going to stay for awhile. It’s much warmer, you’ll love the wildlife.” He played with my hair, massaging the nape of my neck with his callused fingers. “I- I have a few questions...”
“What is it baby?” He crooned, leaning forward and kissing my face and neck. He was gentle, playfully trailing them across my skin, not leaving too many traces of his saliva. “Did you... I mean, are you killing the Kingdoms mates?”
Dabi snapped his head up and rolled me off of his chest. “Who said that to you? Who’s lying to my mate?” His eyes were wide, a vein popping out on his forehead as he growled. “N-nobody told me anything I found-”
He cut me off with a laugh. Gathering some composure with a chuckle. “So you’re going through my things?”
I said nothing. “We’re not doing anything that isn’t necessary. The Kingdom needs to fall.”
I sat myself up and tried to look brave. “So you are killing human women.” My lip trembled. I wanted to believe it wasn’t true, that he never meant to hurt anybody back on Earth, and he would never harm innocent women.
Women that already lost everything, that have nothing to do with these insane politics.
Women like me.
“I think you’ve been spending too much time alone, little mate.” He gently pushed my shoulders down onto the cozy pile of cloth. He crawled over top of me, his hips pressing down on mine, pinning me to the bed. “You’re getting paranoid out here all by yourself, I’ve been treating you bad. My poor baby...” My breath caught in my chest, he ran his hands up my shirt and traced along my side. “Do you think I would ever lie to my precious angel? My most treasured possession?” He planted a sticky kiss on my neck, his spit sinking into my skin and sending signals to my brain. My fear started to fade, my anxiety relaxing. He grabbed my chin, parting my mouth and forcing me to look up at him. He kissed me hard, jamming his tongue into my mouth and swirling it around. I mewled a bit into his mouth, letting out a slight cry as my body reacted to him. My blood rushed to my lower half, setting me on fire. I bucked my hips to press harder against his and he smiled into my mouth before pulling away. “There she is, there’s my good girl.” He whispered to me with his wolfish grin. “I would be the lucky guy to get such a smart little mate, but still so obedient.” He smirked before leaning down and biting down hard on my neck. I whimpered and grabbed onto his shoulders.
Dabi leaned on his hands behind his head and relaxed, watching me bounce and squirm. I reached to cover my face, lightly embarrassed by his gaze. I moved up and down on his cock, feeling kind of awkward as I get used to moving my body this way. He quickly snatched my hands away from my blushing face. He clicked his tongue. “Ah ah ah baby girl, I like watching you.” He grabbed my hips, digging his fingers into my skin and pushing me down harder on top of him. I moaned and placed my hands on his chest to stabilize myself. “You’re not getting tired are you? This is only round two.” His tone lightly mocking me.
“I- I’m not used to this...” I whined and rolled his eyes. “Fine you want me to drill you again? Your wish is my command.” He held me in place as he bucked his hips up, slamming his hips into mine with little strain on his face. “D-dabi!” I screamed, his pace so fast I can barely have time to moan. I felt his body shift, his member start to open inside of me. He shoved me onto my back and slowed down his strokes drawing himself out almost all of the way before pounding back into me with a hard thrust. I grabbed onto his shoulders, prepping myself for him to finish. He stopped and held himself deep inside of me, the first egg leaving his body and hitting my cervix. My climax shivered down my spine and my gasp stuck in my chest. He stared down at me with his signature cold gaze with a light grin. “You love getting fucked, you pretend like you don’t want it but then look at that face-” He let out a small grunt, holding most of it back as he deposited another egg in me. My whole body shook and I gasped again. “Drooling all over the place. You’re such a slut.”
He pulled out and kissed my forehead. “You feel a little better now that I’ve fucked the attitude out of you?” I laid flat on my back and tried to catch my breath, my face flushed and my body tired. He grabbed his shirt off of the floor and tossed it to me for me to put on. He stretched out his arms, showing off his toned muscles. “I’ll just go ahead and take that as a yes.”
My brain swam with nothing but thoughts of having a sweet little family with him. I pictured what our children will look like and smiled. I’ll make a good mother...
For just a second, a thought crossed my mind, a distant one. I could barely see it behind the cloud of euphoria.
The thought of people screaming as smoke filled their mouths.
This took me so long to write, it’s been requested from the beginning but I had a plan! I hope you like it. Inbox me and tell me what you think!
#inthewoods bnha alien au#dabi x reader#bnha yandere#yandere dabi#bnha monster boy#bnha alien#alien dabi#yandere dabi x reader#ovipositor kink#ovipositor#bnha fanfiction#bnha fic#bnha horror fic#dabi#my hero villain au#fluffy bnha au
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One Little Push
I don’t even know why they let me write fanfiction because I’m just gonna do stuff like this. And I started this during ptonic week, which is SUPPOSED to be a celebration of platonic friendships in Princess Tutu. (I then wrote about 40 pages to catalog my media collection so this has been put off about as long as it can be.) That said, I’ve gotten this as done as I want to get it, so let’s post it. Warnings in the tags.
Autor spends so much of his time thinking. So much that it’s become an art, staying up three days in a row with nothing but his thoughts. It’s getting to the point that he can do it without trying. He can do it when he doesn’t want to. He can’t sleep at night.
He pushes his cuff out of the way and checks the time. The train isn’t late, but it sure feels like it with how crowded the platform is. He even gets an elbow jab to the back, only just managing to catch himself before he runs into Fakir.
“Do you mind?!” Autor throws over his shoulder. “You aren’t the only one trying to stand here.”
It does little good. It’s hard to tell who’s who with so many bodies pressed together. It could have been anyone.
He resumes waiting for the train, letting his thoughts stab at his brain. They’re only going part of the way together, Autor to meet with his father in a nearby city and Fakir to go on past that to meet with a publisher taken with his fairy tales. It’s disgusting. He’d probably vomit if he had managed to eat anything.
If it wasn’t for him, Fakir wouldn’t know anything of their lineage. About their gift. Fakir wouldn’t be squandering Autor’s inheritance on fairy tales if he had just kept his big mouth shut. It’s all he’s been able to think about for weeks. He forces his jaw to loosen when he realizes he’s grinding his teeth.
The train whistle blows in the distance.
The crowd shifts, forcing Autor even closer to Fakir and the end of the platform.
What if Fakir wasn’t here? he asks from the cold edges of his mind. Everything could be mine if Fakir wasn’t here.
Is it really that simple? He can still write his own stories. They might not take the same shape, but he can still change the world with his words.
The train chugs closer to the station.
Maybe my stories aren’t shaping reality because Fakir is here. This has gone too far.
The crowd shifts again as the train whistle blares loud and clear.
He has too much influence. He’s too dangerous.
For the first time in a long time, Autor stops thinking completely and pushes Fakir in front of the train.
Everything after that happens too fast.
Whoever had elbowed Autor before shoves into him at the same moment, making things look plausibly accidental. Autor sucks in a breath at Fakir’s terrified scream of realization, instinct demanding that he try to hold on to the man he just pushed. Fakir’s hand grips Autor’s arm, but there’s enough shock at the whole thing that he doesn’t try gripping Fakir back. He blinks at the moment of impact, and his arm jerks along for a horrifying second until the force of the train detaches Fakir’s arm from the rest of his remains.
Autor wrenches the dead man’s arm off of him in fright and joins in as the entire station erupts in screams of panic. His unrelenting exhaustion makes for good tears, and he doesn’t try to stop them. His heart constricts, but it does so around a cold, black pit of satisfaction.
---
Autor’s default expression is pretty dour, and it serves him well at the funeral. Or as well as it can surrounded by so many people crying over a mostly empty casket. Even Autor’s parents, his own parents. Did they even know him outside of a classmate Autor’s brought to visit a couple of times? Are they even aware that he’s family?
Everyone is understanding about Autor’s mask of numb shock. No one else in this gathering was there when it happened. No one besides him saw Fakir’s last moments. They’re not picturing a disembodied arm clinging to their sleeve, can barely even imagine it the way he can see it.
Best of all, they’re understanding about the fact that he might not want to talk about it. It’s perfect.
---
“I was wondering when I’d meet a grandson who truly took after me.”
Autor rubs at his eyes, unsure if he’s dreaming or just meditating. He’s never heard that voice before, and yet he instantly knows who it is.
“Quick, brutal, and straight out of a tragedy,” Drosselmeyer says as he steps out of the dark corner of the room, each word holding the affection of an indulgent grandfather and hands together as though he’s going to applaud at any moment. “And you did it all on your own. I couldn’t be prouder, Autor.”
He presses his mouth into an unsure line and says, “I want you to be proud of me for my writing.”
“As long as you write what you know, I’m sure I will be.”
---
“Autor, I want you to put your writing on hold.”
Autor looks from his work to his mother, only slightly bemused by her request at the moment. “What?”
“Please, stop writing,” she says.
“For how long?”
“Indefinitely.” Lore holds up a hand. “Please, I know it’s a lot to ask, but things have changed.”
He puts his quill down. “They haven’t changed that much, Mother, which makes it more important for me to write.”
“Not when the changes might be caused by the Bookmen,” she counters, her mouth pressing into a line. “Don’t be reckless, Autor.”
He turns in his chair towards her. “I’m not naive. The Bookmen are always going to be a-”
“Autor, stop and think about it!” Lore insists, taking hold of his shoulders. “Fakir’s death might not have been an accident! What if the same thing happens to you?”
Autor stares at her, mouth agape in protest but not making a sound. What can he tell her?
“I’ve already asked your father to take it into consideration,” she continues in his silence. “You know how he is, being more prone to storyspinning the way he uses it. He’s even thinking about retiring.”
“What?!” he replies to the news, getting to his feet and disoriented from suddenly being at the same level as his mother. “Surely Father would be all right.”
“That’s just it: we don’t know,” Lore says, squeezing his shoulders. “We don’t know what they’re going to do or if they’re even behind it. If it is them, it’s not the first time they’ve considered doing whatever it takes to stop a storyspinner. It’s not even the first time they considered killing Fakir if they were the ones responsible for his death.”
“It was an accident,” Autor says, but he closes his mouth right after.
“I know you didn’t mean to, but whoever shoved into you might have had other intent. You might have been hit by that train yourself if whoever was behind you thought they could get away with it.”
Lore pulls him into a tight hug, doing her best to restrain a sob as she does.
“I just don’t- don’t want to lose my family,” she tells him, her voice hitching in the middle.
Autor gingerly puts his arms around her, doing his best to keep the bile from what he plans to do down. “Mother, do you trust me?”
“Of course I do.”
“Then trust in what I choose to do.”
“But-”
“Mutti,” he interrupts, squeezing her a little. “I know you don’t want me to be reckless. I promise I won’t be. Do you trust that?”
He can hear her swallow as she thinks about it.
“Yes,” she answers.
“Thank you,” he says, hoping the words don’t sound as dry and brittle as they feel in his mouth.
---
“So nice to see you again, grandson.”
Autor gasps and whips his head to look behind. His hair is loose, and he has to take his glasses off to attempt fixing it. He doesn’t bother with fixing anything else like his loosened cravat, his sleeves slipping from their rolled up state, or the ink stains on his his hands. “Drosselmeyer!”
“You looked like you were having trouble,” he says, idly picking up a page from Autor’s disheveled stack of writing. “Not writer’s block, is it?”
“It’s not working!” Autor replies, snatching the paper back. “Please, I need to keep my attempts in order.”
Drosselmeyer tsks at him. “Now how am I supposed to help if I can’t read it?” He takes Autor’s work up again and looks it over. The more he reads, the more he shakes his head. “Oh Autor, did you really think you’d be able to influence all of Goldkrone like that in your first worthwhile attempt at storyspinning? And all because you still have some thread of yourself that can’t let your mother know what you really are.” He drops it on the desk again. “You really should just start smaller and concentrate on her.”
“And make myself more suspicious by having her memory the only one altered? I have more brains than that.”
“Even so, most of the town already thinks it was an accident without you trying to rewrite it in everyone’s minds. Why waste time trying to get away with a murder you’ve already gotten away with?”
Autor frantically shakes his head. “If it’s not an accident, a complete accident, then she might stop my writing! I have to write! Surely you understand that I have to write!”
He grins wide. “Of course I understand that. If you’re having that much trouble with it actually happening, why don’t I help you?”
“Please,” he answers without hesitation, almost before Drosselmeyer could finish his offer.
Drosselmeyer covers Autor’s eyes with a gloved hand. (Or perhaps just a glove as he doesn’t see a wrist.) “Then close your eyes, and I’ll take it from here.”
---
Autor can write in his sleep.
Every writer’s dream has become his reality. All he has to do is sit at his desk, take up his quill, and he’s gone. When he comes back, the story is there. It’s as if the story wrote itself. He’s blacking out for longer and longer. Autor can’t stay awake when he writes.
---
Logos strokes his beard in contemplation, a look Autor’s often seen his father wear when he’s turning the words over in his head. Like all blood relations of Drosselmeyer, he knows just how important it is to choose your words carefully, even more so with how he’s chosen to use their gift. It itches at Autor, prickles the back of his head. Whatever he wants to tell him apparently couldn’t wait until dinner, couldn’t be said around his mother.
He sighs against his hand and says, “Autor, I understand there are different ways to process trauma, but your mother and I think it might be time for you to speak to someone about what happened. Professionally.”
Autor frowns in befuddlement. “What? Therapy?”
Logos nods. “We won’t force you to go. We know that won’t do any good. But ever since the accident with Fakir, you’ve been less present. All you seem to do is write about what happened.”
Autor sits up straight, back stiff as a board. “You’ve read it?”
“Autor, you’ve left seventeen versions of the same story littering the office. It was inevitable.” He leans forward. “Writing to get it out isn’t a problem by itself, but now that it’s the only thing you’re doing at all, it’s becoming a problem. And besides that, you need to grasp the limits of what we can do.” He shakes his head once. “You can rewrite the accident a thousand times if you like, but you won’t be able to use our abilities to change what happened. Don’t blame yourself for Fakir being gone.”
Autor makes a reflexive sound that he thinks is a laugh but might sound like a sob and covers his mouth. Even he’s not sure which one it was.
Whatever it was, Logos doesn’t find the noise surprising or out of place. “Your mother and I have found a good doctor, and we both think you should at least meet her.”
“You think I’m crazy,” Autor says, dropping his hand away from his mouth.
Logos looks at him as though he had just been slapped. “I think you’re hurting. And we just want to find some way to help you.”
Autor gets to his feet and holds his arms out in a helpless shrug. “And what would I tell the doctor? Make her a confidant to our storyspinning? You seem to think that’s what I’m doing. Why don’t we just tell the whole city? The Bookmen already know anyway, so what’s a few more people in on it? We’ve really thought this through.”
Logos likewise stands, still a good head taller than his son. “Why are you acting like I’m stupid? I know you’re writing a story, but you can’t do storyspinning on the past. You have to move forward for change, and you’re stuck.”
He gives Logos an incredulous look. He can tell, but he’s still acting like Autor’s innocent? He thinks back to all of the times he’s heard his father sing, trying to recall if he can tell when storyspinning is taking place or not. Is it something he just has to develop? With that thought, the truth of the matter crashes into him and he bolts out of the room.
---
Autor locks himself in the office, hands over his mouth and fingers meeting over the bridge of his nose.
“Back to work, I see,” Drosselmeyer says.
“I’m not a storyspinner,” Autor responds.
“Oh, you are. A weak little thing, but that doesn’t matter. A quill is a quill, a hand is a hand.”
“You’re using me.”
“You’re using me, grandson,” Drosselmeyer retorts, though his tone is surprisingly jovial. “I may be giving it more influence than you can manage, but the stories are all you. Not that I mind for now since they’re my favorite genre.”
“They’re not my stories if I don’t know what I’m writing.”
“We didn’t set any terms, grandson. If this is going to be a problem, then we can end our partnership.”
Before anything could be said, a hand from behind grabs Autor and he knows nothing else.
#Princess Tutu: I might need my notes for this...#major character death#death by impact#nongraphic descriptions of dismemberment#hey look I'm actually warning you guys this time#also possession but like not as big a deal as the other stuff#usually it's a big deal but it's actually a bit downplayed in this one#let's pretend this is a complete story
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Sola Gratia (11/?)
Masterlist
Rating / Warnings : Graphic descriptions of violence, Viewer discretion is advised (short paragraph)
Fandom : Bram Stoker’s Dracula, BBC’s Dracula, various Dracula and vampire lore.
Part 11/? (2247 words)
Author’s notes : The end of the second act draws nigh ! (also, I see some new followers, if you wanna be added to the taglist, feel free to ask !)
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“Eris, anyone home ?”
Leah's soft voice dragged me out of the void I'd been staring into for the past... Well, Gods know how long. I raised my head to meet her slightly worried gaze.
“Yeah, sorry. You wouldn't believe how many of those can't make the difference between a century and a millennium, it's appalling.”
She didn't seem that amused at my sorry excuse for a justification.
“Have you seen the bags under your eyes ?”, she reprimanded me in a hushed voice. “How long since you had a decent night of sleep ? You're so pale, you look like a damn vampire.”
I had a dry laugh. She wasn't wrong, to be fair. For the past four days, I barely got any sleep, any noise waking me up in a cold sweat, when I just didn't lay frozen in bed, unable to close my eyes, for hours on end, until the sun got up. Mostly, I only stayed up because of a carefully thought-out blend of coffee and anxiety.
“I'm fine, Leah. I just didn't put on any makeup this morning. That is my face”, I told her, trying to sound offended.
“Don't bullshit me. Go. Home.”
Her tone didn't invite arguing about it. She reached across the table, and took my hand in hers, smiling. She proposed calling me an Uber, but I figured walking would clear my head. I put away my stuff, leaving her to her books.
The library was almost entirely empty at this hour, and the normally automatic lights didn't even turn on as I passed through the halls. I slapped my badge on the door to get it open, and was welcomed by a gush of freezing air from the outside. The sun had only just set, and the orange lamp posts had everything seem grey, except the deep red of the sky, near the horizon. Everything was quiet, save from the intermittent cawing of a crow, or the rustling of leaves, in the light, but biting breeze that had set in with the night.
I started walking. The sound of my boots echoed in the empty campus' streets. At this time, there was about a tram every twenty minutes. If I walked fast, I'd catch the next one. As I started walking faster, I couldn't help but feel followed. That feeling, once it crossed your mind, could only set, seeping into every pore of your being, until you... I turned back. Nothing. Not even a shadow at the corner of a building, a suspiciously flickering light. Nothing. Even so, my chest felt too tight to breathe. Breathe in. Breathe out.
I kept on going toward the tram stop. Focus on that, the tram stop. Breathe in. I stopped, pushing my back against a post. Breathe out. I turned my head, trying to relax my tense muscles. In the corner of my eye, a shadow. I screamed, jumped back.
“I dream of a day where your first reaction to seeing me won't be that of a deer in headlights.”
He stepped in the light, as elegant as always, in his long, dark coat. He looked exceptionally well, about as much as I had to look dreadful. He took a step forward, and I instinctively took one back. He stopped, a look of disbelief painted on his features. He looked almost hurt by me pulling back.
“Is something wrong, Eris ?”, he asked, concerned, but equally demanding.
I tried to find an answer. Yes. Yes, something's wrong. Everything is goddamn fucking wrong.
“I'm gonna miss my tram”, I muttered.
I turned back to the way I was going, and in a second, I felt his hand on my arm stop me. My heart sank to my stomach, and I broke free of his grasp. My heart beat so fast I was almost gasping for air.
“Did something happen while I was gone ?”
“It's just- I don't- Nothing hap-”
My words came stuck in my throat. I didn't even know what to say. Where to start. He placed both his hands on my shoulders, calmly asking me to look up at him.
“You... You are shaking, what on earth... Am I causing this ? Do I scare you ?”
I raised my head to meet his gaze, jaws clenched not to have my teeth chatter. He looked so genuinely confused, I was finally able to take a deep breath.
“Can I trust you ?”, I managed to whisper.
He didn't answer a moment, seeming less ton consider his answer, than what prompted the question.
“Without question.” He was looking straight into my eyes, the intensity of his gaze leaving no place for a lie. Fuck, I wanted to believe him. The weight of his hands on my shoulders made me feel safe. How could it make me feel safe ? Wasn't that just another trick ? Another way to make me trust him, just to make the job easier ?
Tears I didn't notice building up burned my cheeks as they rolled down. He moved a hand to my face, and erased them with his thumb, softly.
“What happened ?”, he asked again.
If we are to stop this creature, we need your full support. For some reason, he trusts you more than most. You cannot tell him about your knowledge of this place.
I gently pulled myself from his grasp, and stepped back, forcing a smile.
“Nothing happened. I'm just tired”, I told him. “I really have to catch my tram, Vlad.”
“Nonsense, I'm bringing you home”, he insisted. “You are very obviously distressed, and lying to me. Get in the car.”
The authoritative tone had me shiver. I knew I didn't have any choice, in the end, and nodded. He opened the door for me, as always. I sat down, buckled up. Focused on the line of led lights, moving in a slow, red wave.
“If you refuse to talk to me”, Vlad began as he started the car, “I can only assume this has something to do with me. Now, understand that I could take a minute and find out, but I meant what I said, when I told you you could trust me.”
He kept focused on the road. I could tell him everything. That would be a risk. If he really was who MINA said he was, if he did... If he did what they said he did... That would most likely be my death warrant. If he started being too suspicious, he could just read my mind, and given how deeply those images were engraved into my brain, it wouldn't be too hard. I had no idea how to go about this.
“I found out the reason why Stephan was putting me off.”
“And that is ?”
“We looked into his family tree, and his mother is a Mary Van Helsing, from the Murray Institute for the Neutralization of Abnormalities.”
I said that on a single breath, and awaited his reaction. His face didn't betray any emotion, but his silence was speaking volumes.
“They found us out pretty fast”, I continued, figuring I was on too deep already. “We were taken to their headquarters, or whatever that bunker was. They were suspicious that I was acquainted with a vampire, posing as the respectable professor Vlad Balaur.”
“And what did you tell them ?”
His tone was frighteningly neutral. “For some reason I still can't explain, nothing”, I replied. “I had them believe I had no idea such things existed, less so that you were one.”
He had a short hum, but remained silent.
“They told me you were posing as a vampire they killed in 1896, Count Dracula, who apparently is quite the messiah in the Vampire World”, I jabbed at him. “That you probably manipulated my memories, my emotions, just so I'd end up like the others !”
Tears were streaming down my face, and despite my best efforts, my voice was shaking in anger. I couldn't help but think he could pull over and snap my neck at any moment. Might as well make the best of my last moments.
“Would you please clarify what you mean by 'the others' ?”
He sounded so calm, so composed. I tried not to think on the implications.
“They showed me the pictures, Vlad.” My chest hurt so bad. I barely was able to keep taking. “In retrospect, you were pretty clean with the horse. I guess he deserved better than human beings do, right ?”
“Eris, I don't understand-”
“Don't fucking lie to me !” My voice broke. I had no way to remain calm, the taste of bile going up my throat. “I saw it, I fucking saw the- the-” I slapped my hand over my mouth, desperately trying to catch my breath.
Vlad had the turning signal on, and pulled over. I couldn't stop crying, my face buried into my hands, unable to form any coherent sentence. The car stopped. He didn't say anything. At any moment, I thought I'd feel his hands around my neck, or his teeth. Instead, he only called out my name, softly, barely audible through my sobbing.
“Eris, please.”
I dried up my face as best I could with my scarf.
“You promised. You promised you wouldn't hurt anybody”, I managed to stammer between hiccups.
“I have not-”
“I saw the pictures !”, I repeated. “They showed me- So much blood-”
I turned my head to his. He slowly raised a hand to my face, hesitantly, waiting for a rebuffal. I did nothing, and he pushed strands of hair off my forehead, and cupped my cheek. His touch was so soothing. Not a bad feeling to die on.
“And you believed them ?”
“I- I- Of course, they just- Who else ?”
“I have no idea”, he admitted, his voice soft, and calm. “Eris, I have not, not a single time, done anything contrary to our agreement. I have not taken a life since our second meeting.”
I wanted to believe him, so bad. I wanted to believe he wasn't the monster responsible for the contents of Mary Van Helsing's case-file.
“How can I believe you ? How can I be certain you're not lying to me ?”, I breathed out, still resting my head onto his hand.
“You can't. You can only trust me.” He leaned in, placing a light kiss on my forehead, as was his habit. He pulled away, keeping close. “Do you trust me ?”
“Yes”, I replied, without thinking about it.
I did. As stupid, dangerously stupid as it was, I did. What else could I do ? What was the better option ? Were the MINA guys that much more trustworthy ? Well, if you took into account the fact that they didn't try to kill me yet, probably.
“As for the fact that I would be my own usurper, I don't know how to argue for it, to be honest. I have rarely been faced with the task of proving my identity.”
He sat back behind the wheel, and started the car.
“You would do well to remember that MINA was founded by people who were so terrified of me, they left without assuring themselves of the success of their mission, which led to accounts of my death being greatly exaggerated.”
I couldn't help but let out a small laugh.
“There, I like that better.”
The rest of the ride was mostly silent, which was still arguably better than crying. Vlad finally pulled over in front of my building. I got out of the car, took a few steps, but didn't go further than that. Behind me, I head his door open.
“Should I wait for you on your balcony ?”
I took a deep breath. “No.” I turned on my heels to face him. “You're taking the stairs, for once.”
“I... Beg your pardon ?”
“Just follow me, will you ?”
He shut his door, and I went to open my building's door. I buzzed us in, holding the door for him. Guess he didn't need an invitation for the whole building, huh. What the hell was I doing ? There's a difference between not thinking someone does gruesome murders in his spare time, and inviting them over for a cup of tea ! Especially if their drink of choice isn't your damn Russian Earl Grey !
Well, too late to turn back now. I tried to keep a sense of dignity as we climbed the stairs. It didn't seem to put any strain on him, all the while I'd been living here for years, and was still dying inside. Catching my breath as gracefully as I could, I unlocked my door. Zardoz came running at me, agressively rubbing himself agaisnt my boots, screaming bloody murder, or, in that case, famine.
“You have a... cat”, Vlad stated.
I had a short laugh as I picked up the protesting beast. “What, are you allergic ?”
“They... Don't like me.”
He looked at the animal with some sort of defiance.
“Well, this one hates everyone, don't feel like it's personal.”
He stood at the door, nearly taking up all the space of the frame. Holding the cat in my arms gave me courage, as I felt his low purr against my hands. I took a few steps back, and had a curteous bow.
“Voivode Vlad Dracula Tepes, me and this cat welcome you into our home.”
He smiled, and stepped in.
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Taglist : @carydorse @angelicdestieldemon @bloodhon3yx @thewondernanazombie @battocar @moony691 @mjlock @thebeautyofdisorder @festering-queen @paracosmfantasy
#Sola Gratia#Sola Gratia part 11#fanfiction#fanfic#dracula fanfic#dracula fanfiction#dracula#dracula castlevania#dracula netflix#dracula bbc#dracula bram stoker#castlevania#vampire#vampire x human#romance#slow burn#enemies to friends to lovers#enemies to lovers#dracula x OC
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14x18 Coda
Cas knows Sam was right to hold him back out by the pyre. Dean needed his space, needed time to mourn, but Cas needed his friend to know how sorry he was for keeping silent. If he’d only been honest with himself about Jack, Mary might still be here. They could be playing the stupid mouse trap game Dean insisted was fun instead of sitting in their respective bedrooms, alone. Cas is so tired of being alone, exhausted by running from every time he’s failed the Winchesters.
For the first time since he’s met Dean, Cas considers going home for good. There is a spark of hope that Naomi would let him do something in Heaven, given how much they are struggling. Even the isolation of imprisonment would feel better than the look of disgust in Dean’s eyes when he told Cas he was dead to him. If Cas were home, the empty wouldn’t get him, and Sam and Dean would be safe from any other screw-ups.
His chest burns at the thought of leaving his family behind, but Dean won’t even look at him, and of course, Sam’s loyalties lay with his brother. All Sam did was give him a pitying look and another pat on the shoulder before shuffling off to his own room.
It’s never made sense to him why Sam and Dean mourn alone. They are hurting for the same reason, and if what Cas is feeling is only a fraction of their loss, he doesn’t know how they can stand to be alone. The hollowness inside is threatening to swallow him whole. He’s almost desperate enough to ask Dean to just humor him––allow him to sit on the floor in the corner of Dean’s room, just so he doesn’t have to keep replaying Mary’s joyful squeal as a four-year-old Dean jumps from his father’s arms into hers. Seeing her in her heaven, happy with her family was all Cas needed to see to know that Dumah was right. Mary’s chapter is over, but her story lives on.
The deal she made, the demon blood, the apocalypse, and every subsequent disaster that followed and will continue to follow, all because she couldn’t be alone without the love of her life. It wasn’t her fault, not really. Heaven wanted the apocalypse, they needed Sam and Dean strong. If it wasn’t Mary it would have been John, and the path may have been different, but the destination would have been the same.
Cas rubs a closed fist over his heart and drops onto his bed. The memory foam Dean insisted he get because even if you don’t sleep, Cas, you deserve to relax. He regrets his anger toward Mary. He’d been so mad at her for abandoning Dean when all Castiel himself ever wanted was to stay. She had the chance and chose to run. He would find himself driving for hours on a solo mission wishing he was with his family, not isolated in a tiny box on wheels. He always wanted to be in the bunker working with Jack, teaching him how to use his powers. Helping Dean cook, or answering Sam’s questions on the lore. Maybe if he’d been home more things with Jack wouldn’t have turned out the way they had.
Cas paces the floor as if he could somehow walk his worry away. Jack had never perfected angel radio, and Cas wasn’t sure his signal was transmitting, but he closed his eyes and bowed his head regardless.
Jack, son, we are not mad at you. Whatever happened between you and Mary was an accident. We know that, and we forgive you. We just want to know what happened. Please come home and talk to us, Jack. We need you.
Even in Castiel’s own mind, he stumbles over the phrase, years of hearing I need you and knowing that it was never quite enough. He focuses on those words now.
I love you we all do. We want you back and we can figure this out. Just please, please Jack, come home.
The knock at his door startles Cas out of his prayer and he’s thankful Sam has come to check on him. Maybe he, too, was wondering why they aren’t being more supportive of one another.
Cas gasps softly as he pulls the door open and sees Dean standing in front of his door. He’s wearing his favorite lounge pants and holding a half-empty bottle of whiskey.
“Hey, um. You got a minute?” Dean asks quietly, watching his feet as they shuffle.
This isn’t what he was expecting, but it’s exactly what he wanted, Still, Castiel is wary of talking to Dean right now. He can’t handle being asked to leave again, and though his mind had been all but made up, Dean telling him he was no longer welcome in his home for a second time might actually kill him. But it’s not like Cas can refuse Dean, so he steps aside and sweeps his arm back, a clear invitation.
Dean’s eyes are bloodshot and glassy, and Cas knows this look. Dean sits on Cas’ bed, tucking his socked feet under himself and hunching his shoulders as he curls in on himself. A rare vulnerable pose for Dean.
The silence is killing him as Cas waits several long moments for Dean to speak. Finally, when he can’t take it anymore, he does the only thing he knows how to do––he tries to apologize.
“Dean I...”
“Don’t. Just don’t, okay? There’s nothing to be sorry for, Cas. We saw it, we all saw it and just kept going forward. It’s like Sam said: he became family. I’ve––” Dean purses his lips and shakes his head before taking a long pull from his bottle. Dean offers it out to Cas, but there isn’t enough left for Cas to feel anything, so he shakes his head. Dean needs what’s left.
Dean takes a smaller sip and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before continuing. “I just watched my mom burn to death for the second time. And as much I want to blame Jack, and…” Dean top lip twitches as he draws his brows together, pain showing clear as the words he’s speaking. “I don’t want to lose him again, not like this. Going Darkside? I can’t, Cas. I just...can’t.”
The bottle slips from Dean’s fingers and lands on the floor with a loud thump. The brown liquid sloshes out as the bottle lands on its side. Dean’s head falls into his hand and for the first time ever, Cas hears him sob. Deep breaths coming in as gasps
Cas drops to his knees, the spilled booze soaking into his pants, as he wraps his arms around Dean and pulls him forward. He goes willingly, and because Cas was expecting a little resistance, Dean crashes into his chest.
“I’m sorry, Dean. So sorry.”
Cas cups the back of Dean’s head with one hand and grips the back of worn, soft t-shirt fabric with the other. He wants to list all the things he’s done wrong, every time he’s failed Dean, and how he would do things differently. But the hunter is shaking his head back and forth, mumbling into Cas’ coat. So the angel stays quiet, and though he can’t understand what his friend is saying, he listens intently.
“...shouldn’t have said it, Cas. I’m sorry. I can’t do this without you.” Dean’s crying has tapered, and Cas isn't surprised. It’s the biggest display of emotion he’s ever seen, so it doesn’t surprise Cas that it passes so quickly.
Dean, breathing starts to slow and Cas tries to pull away with the intention of getting his friend a box of tissue and a glass of water, but Dean’s fingers dig into his back as he tries to pull away. Cas takes a moment to decide if a glass of water is worth breaking the moment. Dean is rarely so open and even though Cas suspects embarrassment will follow, he’s sure the release of emotion must feel like a relief.
“It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere.” Cas settles back on his heels, holding Dean close to him, but not so tight that the hunter couldn’t easily pull away when he’s ready.
Several long moments pass and Cas finds himself running soothing fingers through Dean’s soft hair. While Cas was debating his return to heaven, Dean had been showering the stench of smoke and death from his skin, leaving behind the warm sandalwood scent of his body wash.
When Dean finally pulls back, Cas selfishly misses the contact. He suspects Dean will go back to his usual repression, leaving Sam and Cas feeling the loss of not only Mary’s death and Jack’s disappearance but also Dean himself. The small smiles, the nerdy outbursts about the thing he’s reading up on, the subsequent denial of said outburst. They will have to deal with a lost Dean, only he will be sitting right next to him. He will probably hunt for weeks on end, hiding from, and repressing, anything that reminded him of his mother or their wayward son. And though Cas will miss that Dean, and will likely get snapped at, swung at, and maybe even forced to accompany Dean to a strip club or Chuck-forbid another brothel, he’s ready to do what it takes to show Dean that one angry phrase, muttered out of desperation, isn’t going to drive Cas away. They are a family and more than ever they need to come together to offer comfort and forgive harsh words.
“Can I stay?” Dean mumbles into Cas’ shoulder. “Sam’s already asleep and—I just want to stay.”
“Of course, Dean. You’re always welcome wherever I am.”
Cas stands and rids himself of his shoes, overcoat, and suit jacket while Dean wiggles himself under the covers, the empty bottle of whiskey long forgotten. With Heaven being so low on power, Cas knows mojoing a glass of water would be seen as a waste of limited grace, but he can’t stand the thought of leaving Dean, and he knows his friend could use a cold drink. The grateful look on Dean’s s face as he guzzles down swallow after swallow proves to Castiel that there isn’t anything where Dean’s concerned that would be considered a waste.
It takes them several long moments to get situated in bed, and a small part of his heart sings when Dean sidles up to him and nudges his arm out of the way, giving him full access to lay on Cas’ chest. The angel isn’t sure if this is cuddling or comforting, or some strange mix of both. But whatever it is, he’s happy Dean came to him—elated to know he’s needed. He wishes the circumstances were different, but as Dean drifts off to sleep, Cas wraps him in a bone-crushing hug and thanks anyone listening that Dean didn’t mean what he said.
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Birth and Death - Part 3
Summary: Y/N can’t imagine the thought of never seeing her friend again, so she decides to do something about it despite all of Sam’s warnings.
A/N: written for @spnclassicbingo and this is the last part for the bingo, but it might not be the last part in general
Square Filled: Summoning A Spirit
Warnings: angst, talk of dead friend, spell work, supportive!sam, cranky!Dean, a cuss word or two, burning of a corpse
W/C: 2209
Pairings: Sam X Reader
Part Two
Y/N knew that it might not end very well, and she didn’t care. Her heart was locked in a cage of grief that blocked her sense of rational thinking. Conversation after conversation with Sam had only solidified her morose decision to go forward with the Seance.
Even after he had warned her that the person she knew as her friend wasn’t going to be the same person that appeared, she had a small kernel of hope that it could be - and that was enough for her.
With those big, warm eyes, he asked her - begged even - to find other ways to cope with the loss. They’d kept in contact after the incident at the graveyard, sharing notes about lore, sending each other articles they thought were interesting, and giving advice to one another. He even offered to help her, said he knows better than anyone what it’s like to lose a friend.
She knew that when she told him she wouldn’t do it he believed her. It made her heart sink knowing how hard he tried to keep her from doing what she already set her mind to, and lying to him was the punch in the gut she didn’t need. But it didn’t change anything, she was too numb and in pain to care; the heartache was cutting her deeper with every passing day and nothing had ever made as much sense to her as sitting in a darkened room surrounded by candles and herbs.
Taking a deep breath in, she closed her eyes. “Y/F/N,” she whispered, cringing as the name filled her ears. Clearing her throat, she crossed her legs and reached across them for a candle. Placing it next to her feet, she leaned forward to read her hand scribbled sheet with the summoning spell. “I’m sorry, Sam,” she whispered, more for her own conscience than anything.
Tears knocked on the corners of her eyes, the smoke from the candles opening the doors. “Amate spiritus obscure,” she said softly, looking up from the paper and around the room between words. “Te quaerimus, te oramus, nobiscum colloqure.” Her voice grew louder as she spoke.
When a brisk wind filled the room, she couldn’t help but to smile. Sad had let it slip that a sudden coldness is a sign of spirits. Nodding as if she were a child awaiting an ice cream cone, she rushed through the last of the chant, “aput nos circita,” she belted out.
Waiting for her friends entrance, Y/N kept her eyes wide as she rigidly scanned the room. She was excited to see her friend again, but as the seconds turned into agonizing minutes of silence and waiting, Sam’s warnings echoed in the back of her mind. What if her friend really was different? Or worse, what if she called onto other spirits instead?
Panic had set in, and she wasn’t sure if she was brave enough to move to grab her phone. Her muscles felt stiff, like if she were to move they would crack and fall apart. The breeze rushed through again, leaving her with a deep sense of knowing that that was it - she had done it.
All of Sam’s words rang in her ears, building up a pressure in her head. Closing her eyes, she swallowed her fears and brought herself to her feet. Rotating her torso around the room, she squinted her eyes in an attempt to see past the darkness. Heart jumping rapidly in her chest, she brought her shaking hand to the floor, grabbing a dimly lit candle and heading off in search for her phone.
As she rounded the corner into her living room, another blast of cold air hit her. She wasn’t sure what was different about that one, other than a sense of bravery that hit her along with it. She called out her friend’s name, ignoring the incessant pounding in her ears.
Standing between her living and dining room, she slid the phone into her pocket. Waiting patiently, she kept her eyes on the orange glow that she held in her hands. The first sound to creep into her ears was the creaking of her staircase, the second was the increasing rate of her heart beat.
She took slow, easy steps backwards, positioning herself against the wall as she watched the tall, elegant figure approach her.
“Y/N,” the beauty lulled. “I missed you,” she whispered. Her voice was angelic and pure, but there was something different to her - a veil that covered her voice that intimidated Y/N.
“Y/F/N?” she stuttered, “is it - is it really you?” the words cracked as they came out, excitement mixed with fear pouring from her voice as the tears rolled down her cheeks.
Dean bounced his leg impatiently as he glared out of the Impala at Y/N’s closed blinds. With his chin dipped towards his chest he snapped, “if you’re sure she’s going to do it,” he shouted, stopping the shake in his leg and facing Sam. “Then what the Hell are we doing out here?” he growled.
Sam turned to look at his brother’s scowl slowly, as if he was ripped from thought. He let out a deep breath, “I wanted to give her a chance,” he stared, hands twisting in each other, “I guess,” he said softly.
“Well, I say we bust in there and knock some damn sense into her,” Dean shrugs, relaxing only slightly.
Sam sighed a long, heavy breath. Biting his lip, he turned to look out of the window again, planting his eyes on her decaying, red door. He knew Dean was right, but why did it have to be her? Why couldn’t she have just listened to him?
Dean kept his eyes on Sam for a short moment before using the back of his hand to tap Sam’s arm, “let’s go,” he said, opening the door and heading around to the trunk for weapons and salt.
He was hopeful that he wouldn’t have to use any of it, for Sam’s sake. He could see the way he looked at her, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about her and he hasn’t seen Sam look that way in a long time. Dean, of course, thought it was stupid and reckless for Sam to develop feelings for someone let alone a civilian, and he tried to warn him.
Dean pulled himself out of thought as he pulled the shotgun from the trunk, slamming it shut and turning to Sam. He softened his expression just long enough to instill some comfort in his brother, “you do realize that if she did this,” he said, pausing for a moment, “we’re gonna have to burn her friend’s body, right?”
Sam only nods, eyes shifting to the ground. Dean pats him on the arm once more before marching for the door. A few steps left before the stair case, Dean turns to Sam once more, “and you know what?” he said, a finger held to Sam’s face.
Rolling his eyes, Sam forced out a “what?”
Dean brought his hand to his side, shifting the gun in his arm. He pointed to the door, keeping his eyes on Sam, “and I think she should be there for it. I think if she sees the real, cold and bloody truth it might deter her from going down this path,” he whispered, keeping a scrunched face.
Sam shrugged, “I agree,” he said softly.
Dean felt knocked back a step, he wasn’t expecting him to agree - not so quickly, at least.
“What?” Dean barked.
Sam zoned in on the door of her house, frowning slightly.
“I agree, Dean,” he said a bit louder. “If we go in there and she’s summoned her friend’s spirit, I agree that she should have to be there so that she can learn why she can’t do that.”
Dean pursed his lips, “okay, then. Good,” he said, rotating around and walking up the steps.
Bursting through the door, the brothers stumbled into the living room. Finding their balance, their eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. Sam’s eyes took note of the burnt out candles, wrapped in a perfect circle around a picture of her friend. The breath he hadn’t realized he was holding escaped him when he rotated around and saw her.
The room was cold, but that wasn’t was had her huddled up with her knees pressed against her chest, her arms wrapped around them and her head resting on top. Leaving Dean to examine the seance circle, he slowly approached her. He bent over and set a hand on her arm, feeling that she was shaking. She ignored him, continuing to rock back and forth, soft sobs leaving her in rhythms.
“Y/N,” he whispered.
Without removing her head from her knees, she ceased the crying enough to apologize. Dropping to his knees in front of her, he carefully grabbed onto the sides of her face and pulled her head up to face him. “Hey,” he said. “What happened? Where is your friend?”
“I - I got rid of her,” she sputtered, “for now, I guess,” she cried.
Sam’s eyes struggling to examine her in the darkness, he moved his hands down her to inspect for wounds. “Did you get hurt?” he asked, gliding his hands down her arms and legs, looking for blood.
She pulled herself away from him, groaning as she brought herself to her feet. “Only when I fell,” she said softly. “I’m fine, I just tripped,” she said in a shaky voice, walking over to turn the lights on.
She could see the two of them then. Dean was frowning, eyebrows pressed together and arms folded in front of him. Sam left his body open to her, head tilted slightly and eyes as warm as ever. All of her words escaped her in that moment. The only thing she wanted to do was apologize.
“Get me out of here, please,” she said, turning to Sam. He nodded, wrapping her in his arms and leading them towards the door.
As they approached the Impala, Dean eased up little by little. After helping Y/N into the back seat of the car, he shuffled into the front seat and flipped around to check on her. When he locked eyes with Dean, he knew what he needed to say.
“Y/N,” he said, turning back around to face her glistening eyes. “You remember what needs to be done to get rid of spirits completely, right?”
Without looking up at him, she fiddled with her hands, mumbling out a ‘yes.’ Sam nodded, flipping back around in the seat and giving Dean the ‘okay’ to push on.
--
The sky had dimmed into a dark purple by the time they had arrived. Y/N felt a knot in her stomach, the pain she had felt before summoning her friend tightening. Regret washed over her as they slowly walked to the grave, shovels in hand.
Despite the scowl on Dean’s face, Y/N let the tears come and go as they dug into the dirt she spent hours and hours speaking to, allowing herself breaks when the tears made her weak. She felt lost and in pain, but she knew that she wasn’t alone. Any moment the rattling in her heart took over, Sam would be right there, stroking her hair or rubbing her back as she cried into him.
Dean wasn’t pleased with the interruptions, but he at least held sympathy for the girl. He knew, just as Sam did, that losing people you care most about is one of the toughest things to deal with - he just didn’t express himself in that way, so while he was the one to dig into her friends grave the most, it didn’t bother him as much as it would have had it been just him and Sam.
When he heard the clink the shovel made against the casket, he gave Sam a small nod. Clearing the rest of the dirt away, he opened it. Sam held Y/N in his arms, letting her take her time before peering into the ground at her friend. Dean held the salt in one hand, lighter fluid in the other and waited for Y/N’s okay.
When she nodded, he began to pour them in. No words were spoken until he finished. He tossed the cans to the side and reached into his pocket for a match, Y/N gasping out breath that hinted at the beginning of a sentence. Holding the unlit match in his hands, he shifted his attention up at Y/N.
“Can I do that part?” she asked hesitantly, Sam gripping onto her hand. Dean nodded, handing her the book of matches.
She stared at the flame she held in her hands for a great while, letting it burn out before she had the chance to throw it into the pit. Sam gently pulled the book from her shaking hands, lighting another match and placing it between her fingers. Holding onto her hand, he smiled at her affectionately, before throwing the match in together. Tears filled Y/N’s eyes once again as she watched her friend’s body turn into ash as the night bore on.
<3 Tags:
@fangirl490 @waywardblueshun
#spnclassicbingo#sam winchester#sam supernatural#sam winchester x you#sam winchester x reader#sam x reader#supernatural sam winchester#sam winchester x female reader#sam winchester x y/n#you x sam#you x sam winchester#y/n x sam#y/n x sam winchester#dean winchester#supernatural#supernatural fandom#supernatural fan fic#supernatural series#spnfamily#spn#spn fanfic#spnfandom#spn family
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