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stellamancer · 2 years ago

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don’t, if you value your life (one-sided nier x reader)

notes: i have had the idea of this fic in my head ever since i finished replicant like a year ago. of all the things i expected to write on my days off, this was absolutely not one of them, but at midnight a demon possessed my body and puked out the fic. though i think of it more of a writing exercise since anyone knows me knows that my typical genre of fic is completely on the other side of the spectrum of this.

contains: angst (no happy ending), canon-typical violence, mentions of blood, suicide ideation, very minor stalking, character death, largely un-beta read, language (Kainé is present after all).

wc: 3.9k words

if you read this and think i need to add a tag, please tell me.

Don't go into that village.

Don't go near it.

Don't, if you value your life.

The words of your elders are etched into your brain— your mind. It's a mantra, a hymn, a warning. The village in question is a quiet place, nestled in verdant hills, built upon the ruins of the old world. They say it's peaceful there, pretty even, but the village houses a great and terrible monster. One that will kill on sight— without hesitation, without mercy.

When you were younger, the curiosity, morbid and insatiable clawed at your heart. Maybe the elders were over exaggerating, maybe they were mistaken, maybe there was no monster at all. You thought about it sometimes, thought about tempting fate and visiting the forbidden village. Someone said that there's a library there and you'd love to see one, even just once. However, everyone who ignored the words of elders— who set off to see that village never, ever returned.

That, in of itself, was enough to prove the monster was real.

And so, you stayed away.

You didn't need to see a library, the view of the ocean near your home was beautiful enough to fill your heart and mind, leaving no room for thoughts of merciless, bloodthirsty monsters. For the most part, your existence has been quiet and peaceful.

At least it was, until the monster left its village.

Until the monster came to the seaside town you called your home.

Truth be told, it's not the first time the monster has appeared in your hometown, but its visits were well communicated— the sentries stationed outside the town quick to inform everyone to hide for the monster was on the way. Those visits were spent in the shadows hiding with bated breath— hoping and praying the monster would never notice. Your mother had hidden you well away, afraid that even laying eyes on the monster would condemn you to a fate far too sad. So you didn't know, you didn't know—

The screaming through the town is sudden and shrill, the sound running chills down your body. It is a siren biding you to run if you value your life. You and those around you act on instinct, running, scampering across the streets. Some run further into town, some toward the harbor, you run toward the lighthouse, abandoned since its caretaker died some years ago. You think it will be safest. The monster is said to be indiscriminate with its slaughtering, but also intelligent— surely, it won't come looking for murder in a place where no one is supposed to be. And if it does… you can choose to end it yourself rather than at the monster's bloody hands.

You ascend the lighthouse, two steps at a time. The cacophony of carnage is muffled here— distant, but still ominous in the background. You quickly reach the top of the tower and the town is so saturated in the stench of death that not even the salty sea breeze that's filling your lungs can displace it. From here you can see it all, your peers running in all directions, scattering like petals in the wind.

It is here, for the very first time, you see the monster.

If not for the large, bloodied greatsword in his hands, you would think him more a man than a monster. You cannot make much of his features from atop the lighthouse, save for his hair, shimmering like a beautiful white pearl in the sunlight. A strange, morbid frustration tears at your stomach as you strain your eyes in efforts to get a better look at this monster. He rushes at a group, too slow, too unfortunate and looks to effortlessly cleave them, slicing their bodies into ribbons.

You should be horrified. Disgusted. Afraid.

Instead, you are transfixed.

Your body is stock still as you bear witness to the monster's massacre. He is every bit as cruel as the elders said— there is no hesitation, no mercy in the swing of his sword as he fells your neighbors and friends one by one. You are lucky that you ran to such a secluded area, just as you figured, the monster of a man doesn't bother to come your way. You wonder if he thinks there is no carnage to be found in such an abandoned place.

Do monsters even think?

You remain there, rooted to the spot until you see the monster, a bloodstained pearl, wander toward the town's entrance. Once he's gone, your legs finally give out from beneath you, the weight of it all hitting you like a tidal wave. Eventually, you crawl your way down the steps of the lighthouse and into the town proper to find any survivors.

After a few hours, everyone is rounded up. Only just a fourth of your small community remains. No one is without loss— friends, family, lovers are all victims to the monster's rampage. Your heart seizes in your chest when you realize your mother is among the lost. She had been home when the disaster came to pass, waiting for you to return from an errand she had sent you out for. Had she come looking for you when all hell broke loose? Was she searching for you when she drew her last breath? Was your unconfirmed safety what cost her her life?

Despaired and disgusted, you retch.

You should have run home instead of to the lighthouse. Because you didn't, your mother is dead. Or maybe, if you had gone back, you would have perished together, you holding your mother in a shielding embrace as the monster brings the sword down. Or, more morbidly, the monster taking your life before your mother's eyes before claiming her life as well. You don't know. You throw up again.

The remaining shuffle to the beach, erecting crude graves of shells and stones there. One of the older members of the community recites a prayer, something reminiscent of the olden days before the ebbing tide washes the graves away.

In the days after the slaughter, the community is especially quiet, mourning. You don't know what to do in the absence of your mother, most of your friends were among the deceased as well: you have no one left. Some of the few remaining turn to anger in their grief: marching off to the forbidden village to claim what all know to be suicide disguised as declarations of revenge. You think it's because they don't know what to do either.

There is almost no one left in your small seaside town and the decision is made to find another community. You follow wordlessly, carrying nothing but your memories of your quiet and peaceful life because they are all that you have left.

Fortunately, there is another community close to your seaside town, sequestered in a building large enough to home at least a dozen families. From the outside the building looks like a fancy mansion, but the interior creeps you out– it's too quiet, too eerie. To make matters worse, the community lives beneath the mansion, in what seems to be a mad scientist's lab. You almost feel like at any moment you're going to become an experiment. Some of the members of this new community seem like they already are one.

The only good thing about your new home is that there is a library. Shelves and shelves of books line the wall. It is the only place in the mansion that has character, but there are rules that restrict visiting the library. You don't care. The rules don't matter much any more.

Nothing really matters much any more.

It is in the library where you see the monster a second time.

While perusing what appears to be some kind of fairy tale you hear footsteps in the hall and you instinctively scamper off into a hiding spot. You're not in the mood to be caught and lectured by the guards for breaking the rules tonight. The doors swing open and it's not the guards who walk in but the monster himself, accompanied by two— three others?

You watch from the shadows as the monster and his comrades move about the library. As he chats with them, you can't help but think of him as more of a man than a monster. He banters with… a floating book? How strange. How interesting. You'd love to see the contents of a talking book one day.

It is much easier to make out the man's features in such close quarters. You think that he can't be much older than you. He's handsome, much more handsome than a monster has any right being. There's some odd urge to get a better look at his face pooling in your stomach. Your instinct is to act on it, to just get closer and look and look and—

Don't go near it.

Don't, if you value your life.

The old mantra holds you still like a spell, the warning coursing through your veins, keeping you taut. But still you keep watching the man, the monster. He laughs with what you have come to realize are his friends and you think he almost seems human. Is this really the same monster that wreaked havoc on your little town a few months ago?

The man and his friends soon leave the library, the talking book bickering with the man's lady friend about her choice in dress. When you are sure that they are gone and not coming back you emerge from your hiding place and settle yourself in with the fairy tale book you had been reading. Hours pass before you've read your fill and you make your way back to the cold, metal depths your community calls home.

What you find upon arrival is not the low, but comforting chatter of your new friends and new neighbors, but dozens upon dozens of bloodstains— fresh and sticky. The stench of death is thick in the air, a sickening and stifling miasma. Before you can think, your feet are racing through the halls, screams reverberating against the walls as you search and search and search.

But you find no one.

You are the only survivor.

No one is left and you don't know what to do with yourself. There is a distant thought bidding you to return to the library, to drown yourself in books, in stories of another land, another time, another place where things matter and happy endings exist.

There is another thought, closer, louder and it is of the man. The handsome man. The terrible monster. Something in you desires to seek him out. Not for revenge, because you know that would be pointless, but merely because you want to get a better look at his face before you meet your inevitable end.

You make it your goal— your reason to live. At this point, you're not even sure if you can call what you're doing living. You leave the mansion with this goal; it's all you have left.

The journey to the forbidden village is not that long, it only takes a day on foot. But when you get to the edge you hesitate, unsure.

What if the monster of a man isn't here?

You shake your head. Nonsense. This is his home. No other monsters have come to destroy it for he is surely the strongest one in all the land. He will definitely be here.

Shuffling past what looks to be an abandoned camp, you make your way toward the village gates. Naturally, there are guards, but you manage to hop the fence, avoiding their attention.

The village, despite being forbidden, is fairly peaceful. Quiet. It reminds you of your seaside home. You keep to the shadows as you steal past a row of merchants, watching as a few children play tag around a cobblestone fountain.

Now that you're here, you realize you have no clue where to find the monster of a man. But there is one building, sitting atop a grassy hill above all the rest. You think it's a good idea to start there.

You slink your way up the hill and you spot a few more children playing in the grass. To your surprise, a couple notice you. Surprising you further, they wave. Shyly, you wave back before bolting toward the tall building, not wanting to remain in the same spot lest the children go running to their parents. When you reach the top of the hill, you look back. The children are still playing and you breathe a sigh of relief before entering the building.

It turns out that this is the famed library of the forbidden village. The feeling of joy, strange yet familiar, bubbles pleasantly in your stomach. You’re here to find the monster, but surely it’s fine if you take a detour. This library is much bigger than the one at the mansion— there are more books to bury yourself in, more stories to fill the void in your heart that’s been growing ever since you left your seaside town. You peruse the titles on the shelves and when you find one you don’t recognize you pull at it, freeing it from the shelf and watching as it falls to the ground, the smack echoing throughout the otherwise silent library. You freeze, fearful that someone will come running to find the source of the noise. When no one does, you scoop up the book and scamper off to a quiet, dark corner of the library to read.

Part way through the story, the main doors of the library slam open, demanding your attention and you look up from the top of your book only to find the monster of a man. But it doesn’t look like he’s here to read, instead he briskly walks the length of the lobby. Your eyes remain glued to his form as he runs up the stairs and disappears onto the library’s second floor. The thought to follow him crosses your mind, but you remain still. He will have to come back down the stairs when he leaves— you will follow him then. You turn your attention back to the story, a little saddened that your attention is divided: it was just starting to get good. Maybe you’ll get a chance later to reread it, give it your full attention.

Some time later, you hear footsteps again and quietly close your book. The man appears, descending the staircase, his handsome face marred by a scowl. Idly, you wonder what happened to make him upset like that, but ultimately, it doesn’t matter. You stare from your dark little corner, waiting for him to leave before you follow after him, sure to keep yourself out of sight, sure to keep yourself at a safe distance.

Don't go near it.

Don't, if you value your life.

The monster heads toward a house, fenced in and half-dilapidated. Despite that, there’s something about the home that is warm, cozy. A stark difference from the terribly violent image of the monster that the elders painted for you. You watch, hidden in the shadow of a nearby building, as the monster tends to a flower bed next to his home, watering and weeding them before he heads inside. Through the window you see the glimmer of light, and once you’re sure he won’t suddenly come out and kill you where you stand, you draw closer to the house.

Curious, you examine the flowers. You are not an expert on plants, but they look well cared for. It’s strange. Why would a monster so lovingly tend to plants? A monster by nature, by definition, is a creature of destruction, so why? You don’t understand.

But you want to, against all instinct, against all odds, you want to.

You start to follow after the monster as he goes about his business, or more accurately, the business of others, running errands for them: delivering packages and messages, fishing, committing atrocities against your people. You’re always sure to stay a safe distance away— close enough to observe, yet far enough to not get wrapped up in the carnage. But sometimes, a reckless rush runs through your veins and you steal closer, listening in on his conversations with his comrades, his friends. You learn their names, their personalities and while they become more human in your eyes, their images are still blurry in your mind’s eye; you are not yet foolish enough to get close enough to get a good look at their faces. You are not yet foolish enough to delude yourself into thinking of them as friends.

One evening, at the camp you hear the scantily clad woman— Kainé, very, very loudly announce that she is going ‘to go take a piss.’ The talking book— Weiss, complains loudly about her crudeness, disgusted, as he always is, with her choice of language. She scoffs, dismissing him with a wave before walking away.

Walking toward you.

You scamper away, running toward a large, nearby bush and hiding within. She shouldn’t see you, or at least you hope she won’t. She approaches another bush and you look away, respecting her privacy as much as you can.

“Come out, I know you’re there.”

Her voice is a low growl, and you think she can’t possibly be talking to you. While your observations have led you to believe that there is a soft core to her brash outer exterior, there is little doubt in your mind that, much like the monster of a man, Kainé would slaughter you on sight.

“Hurry up, I don’t have all fuckin’ night.” She stomps over to your bush, and you’re sure she can’t see you, but still she leans in and whispers, her voice both seductive and violent, “Or if you want, I can just end your miserable existence right damn here.”

Instinct takes over and you run out of the bush, away from her.

“There you are, you little fucker,” she snorts. You back away slowly, as she straightens herself out. Kainé eyes you like a bug, one that she is about to crush beneath the heel of her shoe. You swallow thickly, unsure if you should try to run or not. The only thing you are sure of is that if you do run, you’re dead.

“So, why’ve you been following us, huh?” Kainé demands, arms crossed over her chest, frowning. She must know that she could kill you in an instant, must know that you couldn’t lay a finger on her if you tried to attack her. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed a fucking shade like you lurking around us for weeks.”

Shade. That’s what they call you and your people. Shades— condemned to the shadows, unable to live peacefully with the humans, or, as the elders called them, the replicants… whatever that meant. You eye Kainé warily, wondering why she is asking you a question when it is known that humans can’t communicate with shades, can’t converse with them— if they could, then maybe the monster of a man would just be a man, his beautiful hands devoid of the blood of your friends, your neighbors… your mother.

“Hey!” Kainé shouts. “I’m talking to you, the least you can do is answer.”

She’s right. Even if she can’t understand, she probably can hear the words from your Shade mouth. You take a deep breath and speak for what feels like the first time in an eternity. “...it’s because of… him.”

Your voice sounds so strange in your ears, a sound more foreign than silence itself. Kainé stares at you, scowling like she knows, like she can understand the Shade tongue with which you speak. It’s hard to tell, and you take one, two, three steps closer to look in her eyes, risking your life more and more with each forward step that you take. You’ve read that the eyes are the window to the soul, so maybe if you can see them clearly, you’ll be able to tell, to know, if she really, really understands.

Fortunately for you, Kainé doesn’t move, nor does she speak, but still you hear a voice— not hers, erupt in a manic fit of laughter from her body. Her scowl deepens, clearly annoyed, but it seems that it’s not directed at you.

“How cute, the little shade has a crush!” the voice howls, mocking you.

Your face scrunches in bewilderment. The source of the voice… is Kainé herself, but she is clearly not speaking… You shake your head. No, that’s not right. This isn’t a crush, this isn’t infatuation, it’s merely curiosity. “No… that’s not… that’s right. I’m just… I just…”

The laughter grows louder, more derisive, “Oh don’t fucking delude yourself. You’ve been stalking after us for how long? It’s frankly kinda gross if you ask me!”

Kainé mutters something under her breath that you can’t hear, presumably at the mysterious voice making a mockery of you.

Your stomach churns violently, a grotesque concoction of fear and unease. He’s not wrong though. It is kind of gross how you’ve been following this group around like a pathetic puppy. Watching them at a distance, wanting to get closer, to satiate your curiosity, yet staying far away because that’s the only way you can coexist with the monster and his friends.

You think of the monster, terrible and cruel in his extermination of your people, the Shades. You think of the man, gentle and kind as he tends to the flowers by his house. The images in your mind overlap. Terrible and gentle. Kind and cruel. The images blur.

You can only see the smile he’s offered to his friends.

It’s all you have left now, and you don’t know what to do with yourself.

You are not one of his friends, the image of his smile is something you’ve stolen, held in the shadows, kept like a treasure— a secret that should have never been yours.

In fact, it never was.

“Hey Kainé?” A third voice enters the fray and you feel as if you have been drenched in ice water, thrust into the icy depths of the ocean, your entire body freezing over. “You’ve been taking a while, Emil and I were—”

He stops short. You know it’s because he sees you.

Don't go near it.

Don't, if you value your life.

Everything happens so fast, before you can run, before you can even blink. The spear that was affixed to his back is now in his hands, its tip embedded deep into your abdomen. The pain is mind shattering as it spreads throughout your body, like a wildfire in a forest.

The monster is close, closer than he has ever been, than he ever will be, the view of his face clear, and unmarred by distance. He is devoid of expression as he draws even closer, plunging the spear impossibly deeper into your fracturing body. Rather than the pain, you focus what attention you have left on his face.

It’s what you wanted, to get a better look at his face before meeting your inevitable end.

But now that you’re here, you realize, regretfully, that you maybe want a little bit more.

You want to live in another land, another time, another place, where you’re not just a Shade and you can have a happy ending.

With what sense you have left, you focus on his eyes. They’re clear, and blue as the sky on a cloudless day. As your consciousness ebbs away, fading rapidly from existence, you distantly think that at least the last thing you get to see is breathtakingly beautiful. It would have been nice, if you had had longer to enjoy it.

You have nothing left.

You are nothing but a bloodstain on the monster’s spear.

#nier x reader #nier x you #brother nier x reader #brother nier x you #uh #not sure what else to tag this #i honestly feel like i just barfed words onto a doc #so i don't know if it will have the emotional impact i'd like to have #this is so out of my element lmao #well i hope the three readers who read it like it anyway lmao

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