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scapinoz · 1 year ago

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L’APPEL DU VIDE, chapter one.

[genshin!oc x gn!reader]

note, first chapter is out after probably five months, ig. but it’s here now. do keep in mind that it was around three a.m. when i wrote this, i was half dead by then. so there might be a few mistakes here and there, I’ll edit them— i swear. also english is not my first language and i just write for fun.

warnings, implied yandere behavior, masked men, creepy men, men with weird eyes, drinking, y/n and intrusive thoughts, nothing much probably, it doesn’t get bad in the first chapter itself. written pre-snezhnaya, so it’s all interpreted not canon.

CHAPTER ONE, masked men and winter nights.

And there he was again— sitting in the corner of the room (though you must admit that the shadows dancing across his face made him quite beautiful than he already is)— eyes never leaving yours as you finished your song, relishing yourself in the familiar sound of applause from the audience (a sound you’ll never grow dull of hearing).

Everyone around you clapped their hands, some even standing up and raising their glass while they were at it. That should’ve been enough, yes? The fruits of your labour echoing through the vast room would’ve been more than enough for you back then— back then when you hadn’t noticed the masked man (a mask you were well familiar with, thank the archons for the whisperers in the streets) sitting in the reserved booth.

Your eyes, involuntary, went back to his. He was not putting his hands together for you, like everyone sitting in his table was. He only had his gaze inspecting your form without blinking. And without the slightest of hesitation you did the same, holding his regard. The missing signature black coat was the first thing that you noticed, the coat he had traded for something a little less flashy. Though the mask was yet to come off, the mask his friends (or who you assumed you were his friends, judging how ease they had been with each other) were also donning on their face.

You had seen the group a few months now, regularly visiting the bar and sitting the farthest seat from the stage— not that you minded, of course. They always seem to talking and whispering something among each other, sparing you glances here and there when you were up on stage. The man, whose name you have yet to know of, always seemed to be sitting in the middle and facing right towards you, always having his eyes on you whenever you were singing (or that’s what you had noticed whenever you open your eyes after closing them for a split second or so). Never have you ever seen them talking to anyone out of their own circle either.

‘They’ve never once talked to the waiters either, it’s the boss who always personally sees to them. Sharing laughs and shit. Who’s to guess that the boss has dealings with such people.’ was your coworkers answer when you inquired about them. You knew what she had meant by with such people, everyone around the bar knew— the fatui, those who control every aspect of the land of everlasting winter. Everyone around the bar knew of the fatui and were cautious enough not to seek them. And one who was stupid enough got his hand broken just last week— it was what you assumed was a warning. You had heard stories and witnessed the cruelty of the ruling by your own eyes. The fatui were not kind people, not in your eyes lest say. And to think some of them would be actually sitting by a bar listening to your sing out your sorrows for mora, you could only laugh.

‘I heard they work under the fifth,’ Ana said one night when you were lying in her lap as she was combing your hair. ‘they wear his colours as well— black and silver— and the masks are just another giveaway. And they also seem to be here when it is you who is performing.’ Ana chuckled as she had seen how wide your eyes gotten when you heard that. You hadn’t stuck around enough to notice, you had better things to do in your day offs than to spend your day in a bar. You had denied her claims, saying it was simply a co incidence and that fate works in very mysterious ways. Ana could only chuckle and asked you to live in your own dream fort for the time being.

And yet seeing how he was looking at you from the back could not stop yourself from believing your friend’s words for a moment— just for a moment. Just simply for a few seconds as you hurried off the stage and into the backstage, the sound of hands clapping against each other still reaching you. And there was no way they could be here for you.

“[name],” Your boss, Kolya, patted your back with the usual smile. “Great job as always.” You nodded, dutifully. “It would not hurt to smile a little, would it? Or had you grown tired of synthetically smiling?”

Gods, never a day passes where you do not curse your employer and wish the amount of firewater he consumes would deem him mute some day. “You must do what’s expected of you, synthetic or not.”

“Yes, yes, expectations.” He chuckled. “Always weighing one down.”

Kolya Mikhalov was not someone you had expected to work for— not someone you had expected to cross paths with, if being honest. Kolya Mikhalov was the man who took one look at you and decided that you were deemed worthy enough to sing in his fine establishment no matter how many times you had suggested hiring a bard and being done with the fuss he was making.

His name was one whispered among the streets ever so often, a name you’ve heard so often. ‘That man who is trying to coax you into working for him,’ the apple vendor muttered one day. ‘I heard he has connections with the fatui.’ He said. And it was all the more reasons why you urged yourself to get away from the man. Everything about him which screams danger. You had underestimated Kolya and his stubbornness when he said “I am not one to give up easily.”

And so he had waited for you to say yes to offer for nearly two months— following you everywhere you go, paying bards to sing praises of your hauntingly beautiful voice, and even showing up right outside your house with his staff. Surely Kolya Mikhalov was the most eccentric man you had ever encountered— and that simply explains the elctro vision in his left glove. And so you did give in to the endless pestering, and thus resulting you standing in the very same establishment you never vowed to work in.

Kolya leaned in slightly, making you move out of the way. “You look as if you want to ask me something.” Shaking your head you waved him off. Yet Kolya was never to one to falter. “Oh, I’m quite excited about your question. This is the first time you ever showed interest in something which is not dogs.”

“The people sitting at the back of the room,” You said, choosing your next words with much heed. “Are they part of the fatui?”

“Yes.”

You blinked once, then twice— clearly not expecting Kolya to blunt with his words. You perhaps thought that he would coax you into believing otherwise. “What?”

“They are indeed part of the fatui, working under the fifth. I thought the coat and the mask was obvious enough.”

Kolya looked at you, the smile never leaving his face. He tilted his head, very slightly, expecting you to ask more questions. Questions as to how he had ties with them and such. You were never one to pry, we’re you? Everyone had their secrets and you have no business inserting yourself in matters that do not concern you.

So what if your boss has ties with the fatui? It doesn’t matter as long as you get paid, you’ll do your job without any questions asked.

“I see,”

“Oh, and,” Kolya dug his pockets searching for something. He handed you a velvet box. “I was asked to give you this. Seems like you’ve gained quite the admirers, [name].”

You reluctantly opened the box— knowing Kolya was still peeking. “By the seven,” in laid a bracelet— one so intricately crafted. It was gold, probably embedded with the finest gems from Liyue. You didn’t have much knowledge in jewellery but one look at the bracelet and you knew it must’ve cost a fortune.

had you attracted the attention of a man so rich that he could afford this as a passing present?

Admirers, huh.

The nights were not kind in Snezhnaya, nor were the days but yet the night was far more cruel than the days. At least you will be able to see the dangers under the sun while you could simply just feel eyes on your back as you walked underneath the moonlight. You gripped the strap of your bag tighter, never once turning around to look around you— it was never a good idea, as Ana would say.

You weren’t very fond of nights like these— cold and lonely nights that makes you wish you had someone to hold you and keep you warm against their body. Always a knack for impossible dreams, yes? You didn’t particularly wish for a partner, that much you were sure of. But nights like these brings you think that perhaps you should find someone— someone to cure the loneliness and the cold. The thought only ever crosses your mind at nights like these.

“Dangerous night to walk alone,” Instinctively you pushed your elbow back, expecting it to hit the stranger and not for them to catch it. “Rather cynical now, aren’t we?” The person muttered, gloved hands finally leaving your bare skin. “You appeared a lot more demure on the stage. It’s not safe for you to walk alone.”

Turning around, you rubbed your elbow. “Gods,” It was the same man from the bar, the very same one who couldn’t get his eyes away from you. “Why are you here?” You started walking again, paying no mind to him walking beside you.

“Kolya put me up to it when he noticed a few drunkards trying to follow you.” He answered.

Eyes wide you looked around, looking for any sign of being followed. “I see no one.”

“They were taken care of.” He said. “Kolya specifically asked me to walk you home, said he wanted his favourite employee out of harms way.”

Typical Kolya.

You nodded, inspecting the man beside you— you never got the chance to see his full figure, after all. And as you had already expected he was nearly half a head taller than you and lean— though the outline of muscles present through his shirt already said all you need to know. Black hair that reached right below his shoulders and the bangs even covering one side of his mask ( hair that almost made you have second thoughts about yours ). Though it was his eyes what drew you in. His eyes reminded you of the starry nights after the storm— black eyes with specks of gold and silver dancing around them.

Where you shamelessly ogling this man? Of course. Would you admit it if he were to ask you about it? You would simply dig your own grave and lie in it, for sure.

And it seemed like he didn’t mind you staring at him— without even realising that you were staring. ( maybe you were aware, you simply did not care enough. Pretty people are to be appreciated, the thought came in your mind quickly as it left as you realized he was part of the fatui. ) He cleared his throat making you snap out of it, feeling slightly embarrassed and made a mental note to never do it again. ( though you knew you would do it all over again. )

“My name is,” Was it really safe to mention your name to a stranger— a fatui nonetheless. “[name].” Curse the Archons, how stupid could you get.

“I know, Kolya told me.” You nodded, pursing your lips. The silence was awkward as it was painful to bear. The only noise reaching your ears was the sound of snow underneath your boots, and not his. He walked gently, almost tempting you ask if he believed the snow had feelings.

“And you are?” Another mistake made.

The man looked at you, the blank look on his face never fading away. “Zhenya,” He, who you now know as Zhenya, whispered— almost as if he was afraid someone else might overhear him. “I work…under the fifth harbinger.”

“I know, rumours are hard to ignore.” The mask speaks for itself, you wanted to say and yet didn’t. You heard him mutter something under his breath, words flowing away with the wind. “So, you come to the tavern often?” You muttered, cursing yourself internally to simply shut up with each passing word that left you lips.

You didn’t hear an answer from him, just slow breathing as you felt his eyes on your figure as you looked down at the ground, trying to convince yourself that the plain white snow you’ve been seeing for years now was more interesting than whatever that was going on in his eye. “Yes,” Zhenya finally said, his voice probably gentler and softer than yours ever could be. “Kolya— he often bugs me to visit.” He added after a minute had passed.

That sure did sound like Kolya— annoying, vexing and often frustrating. not that you would ever say it out aloud, of course. ( you valued your life more than a few passing sarcastic comments that you brain was so fond of coming up with, thank you very much. )

You simply nodded as the pair of you continued walking, as you often let out soft breaths, shivering slightly from the cold even though you had your coat and gloves on. It would be nice if this man beside me were to wrap his coat around me, like form the romance books Ana is fond of. you found yourself thinking before quickly shaking off the thoughts. No, [name], bad man. He’s part of the fatui, [name].

Where did the thought even come from?

“Do you live far from here?” Zhenya asked, making you blink twice as you were snapped out of your thoughts.

You shook your head, pursing your lips to stop your teeth from clattering. Surely you wouldn’t make a fool out of yourself in front of this gorgeous, gorgeous man. “No, just around the corner.”

It usually only took fifteen to reach your home but it felt like an eternity with the man walking by your side. He hadn’t even opened this mouth once, except for when letting out soft inhale and exhaled. You were sure that it must’ve been a little uncomfortable to breathe beneath that mask during the winter. ( then again it was always winter ).

You stood in front of your house— a modest home, one that you were proud of. “Thank you,” you managed to murmur out as you both stood outside the door, one hand inside your pockets as you fished out for your keys.

The man, Zhenya, nodded. “Nothing worth mentioning.” He said.

You were almost tempted to invite him inside, offering to let him stay by the fireplace and hand him a glass of fire whiskey to heat his skin up before heading out. Who knows how far away he lived?

No, no, part of the fatui, you reminded yourself, sighing in relief as you finally found your keys. Ignoring the stare burning through your layers and layers of clothing you finally opened the door, whispering a small “good bye,” under your breath.

And before you closed the door behind you, you heard him say something akin to, “I hope you like the bracelet.”

i genuinely had no idea what i was thinking when i wrote this. but i somehow managed to. how are we liking y/n so far? and zhenya (ew). y/n and ana for the win. zhenya who? never heard of him.

and if anyone couldn’t tell, zhenya’s kinda a uandere, ig. so this fic might turn out a little darker than intended. he’s also a part of the fatui, so there might be more…gore? but yeah, he’s not a good guy, that’s for sure.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #oc x reader #gn reader #i have no idea how this works yet #yandere x reader #yandere x gn reader #genshin impact oc x reader #genshin impact oc #please teach me how to use this app #fatui harbinger

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corkinavoid · 5 months ago

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DPxDC Hogwarts AU [pt. 2]

The second time they meet, Tim actually knows a little more than nothing about him.

He knows Daniel is Vladimir Masters godson, set to inherit the man's title, and he knows that his birth parents are both wizards, albeit eccentric ones. No one would tell him how they are eccentric, not to mention why.

He knows the boy is a second child among the three, and his older sister is going to Hogwarts next year while his younger one had just turned five. And Daniel himself is seven, just like Tim, which means they will be in the same year eventually. He doesn't know whether he likes that or not.

He doesn't know nearly enough about him to form an opinion.

What he does know, though, is that he absolutely doesn't like Samantha Manson.

Mother had met Mr. and Mrs. Manson at that same party that Daniel kind of ruined (Father's words, not his, Tim thinks that elephant trunks were an improvement), and, upon finding out that they have a daughter Tim's age, decided they should be friends. Which is how Tim found himself sitting in an offensively pink room on an uncomfortably soft pink couch that is threatening to swallow him whole, right across a girl in a pink dress and with a pink bow in her hair. Granted, they are all different shades of pink, but Tim still feels very out of place in his black pants and pale blue shirt with a tight collar.

However, the most unsettling part about all this is that Samantha hadn't said a single word in about ten minutes - so, since they were left alone in this horror of a room by their respective mothers - and Tim is fairly certain she hadn't blinked once, and she is glaring something awful at Tim. For all that he knows, she is probably coming up with a detailed plan of burying his dead body in the garden.

Tim honestly tried to start a conversation. Twice. The girl looked like she didn't even notice, so Tim just kind of resigned to his fate and decided to simply wait until this was over.

He really regrets not bringing a book with him.

Another few minutes pass in silence, interrupted only by some cheerful chirping of birds outside. And then, right as Tim starts to actually consider flopping down on the soft pillows behind him and falling asleep, he hears a knock.

Samantha turns her head to the window so quickly that Tim is afraid her neck will snap. But, as he follows her example and looks outside, he can't help but blink in surprise.

Daniel Fenton, wearing some kind of red jacket with a hood - definitely muggle by the looks of it - is hovering just outside the window. On a broom. They are seven, they are not supposed to have brooms yet! Or, at least, not the ones that can go all the way up to the window on the second floor!

"Bloody finally," Samantha rolls her eyes and jumps off her seat, nearly running towards the window, "What took you so long?" She demands an answer in a snappish tone that allows no excuses.

Daniel grins and shrugs, "Jazz almost caught me sneaking out," he explains, but his gaze is not on Samantha. Instead, he is looking over her shoulder, right at Tim, before asking, "Who's that?"

The girl turns around and scowls, "A boy that my Mum wants me to marry."

Tim sputters, feeling his cheeks heat up, but not out of embarrassment; it's mostly just frustration. She most definitely does not, they are seven, and their mothers can't be making plans like that!

Can they?..

Daniel laughs, bringing the broom closer to the window and setting one foot on the widowsill for balance.

"I would have invited you with us, but I only have one broom," he tells Tim, still smiling. Tim bites his lip.

He wants to go with them so badly. They look like whatever they are about to do is going to be way more interesting than Tim's whole life. But Mother will probably be upset, and-

"Don't bother, he is boring," Samantha huffs dismissively as she pulls the skirt of her dress up and climbs out the window, carefully holding on to Daniel's shoulder as she gets on the broom behind him.

For some reason, that makes Tim angry.

He sticks his chin up higher, straightening up in his seat and frowning. "I don't see how your inevitable fall from a broom is interesting anyway," he drawls, far more mean and uncaring than he wanted to.

"See? Boring," Samantha smirks, but Daniel just looks a bit confused and thrown off.

"I'm not gonna fall," he tells Tim with a certainty that makes Tim kind of want to apologize. But the girl behind him is still smiling like she won something, and Tim is not about to back down now.

"Live with that illusion all you want," he huffs and turns away, still keeping his back straight.

"Come on, Danny, let's go," Samantha urges her friend impatiently, and Tim is decidedly not looking in that direction. He doesn't want either of them to see him pouting. Also, maybe he just doesn't want to see them fly away.

But he still hears a quiet "Bye," from the window before the room goes back to silence, interrupted only by the chirping birds and rustling leaves.

When, mere moments later, Tim looks back to the window, both of them are gone without a trace.

—☆—☆—☆—

Visuals!

The offensively pink room and the way to escape:

Tim's opinion on Sam:

[Picrew]

—☆—☆—☆—

More notes on the people and the world around:

Mansons are, actually, filthy rich. They are a wizarding family, but they are way less concerned about blood purity than people expect them to be. A part of their business involves muggle products, and while they don't advertise it, they don't try to hide it either. Jeremy never attended Hogwarts, he was a Beuxbatons student, and Pamela was a Slytherin. Both of them don't exactly like Danny for separate reasons, but Pam likes to keep Vlad as a friend, and if that means letting Sam be friends with his godson, then so be it. She still tries to keep their contact to a minimum, but it's not like Danny - or Sam, for that matter - cares.

Janet and Pamela did not, in fact, plan to marry their kids; they just liked each other enough to have tea together and decided to combine it with throwing their children at each other. Although Pam does consider Tim a fitting pair for her daughter. Janet is of a different opinion.

The broom Danny took actually belongs to Jack - or, it belonged to him a few years ago, up until Danny realized the kiddie broom is not fun anymore. Jazz is constantly scared he is going to fall and break his neck, but Maddie thinks her son is good enough of a flyer. Besides, even if they did take the broom from Danny, he would just find a different thing to break his neck with, so Maddie just put a bunch of disillusionment charms on the poor broom so Danny won't be noticed by muggles and called it a day.

This is very much not the first time Danny comes to save Sam like she's a maiden in a tower. Also, Sam is not mean out of nowhere, she just likes Danny and hates sharing, and she is seven.

[<- part 1 | part 3 ->]

#danny phantom #dpxdc #dc x dp #tim drake #sam manson #hp #hogwarts au #cork prompts #i have an idea of how to include danny's ghostliness in this #but be warned #it most likely wont make sense #also how are we feeling about fentons working for ministry?#im torn #also yes dani is here #and maybe dan as well but im not sure yet

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