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sagesskies · 11 months ago

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ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴅᴇꜱᴛʀᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴅᴇɪᴛʏ

✒ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍ, ᴡᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴠɪᴄᴛᴏʀʏ ɢᴏᴅ

☏ - ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇᴍᴀɪʟ: ᴍʀ. ꜱᴀɢᴇ ɪꜱ ꜱᴏ ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ꜰᴏʀ ʜᴏᴡ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʜᴀꜱ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ. ʜᴇ'ᴅ ᴀʟꜱᴏ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ @hana-no-seiiki ꜰᴏʀ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴꜱᴘɪʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴘʀᴏᴠɪᴅᴇᴅ ʜɪᴍ, ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴜᴇʟ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴏᴛɪᴠᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ʜᴇ ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴏɴ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ.

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ: ᴡᴀʀ, ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ᴛʀᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ, ꜱᴛᴀɴᴅᴀʀᴅ ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ, ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ, ɢᴏᴅ ɪɴᴄᴇꜱᴛ (ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ Qʜᴇᴛᴏʜʀ), ꜱᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ. ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴇʟꜱᴇ!

Yandere Destruction Deity who, just like you and all your other siblings, was born from the remains of Kases: the strongest of the Great ones.

Yandere Destruction Deity who even then, was already an outcast from the others in the (then yet to be formed) pantheon.

Instead of joining Uren in their rebellion, they chose to spend their time doing more fun activities. Like exploring the new world they've just been born into, interacting with all the strange yet fascinating creatures, fiddling with the inventions and gadgets crafted by the Great ones, all with you, the only one among their siblings who seemed to actually get them.

Yandere Destruction Deity who spends days with you in the garden you’ve cultivated, laughing and bonding. Growing closer together.

You talk about many things; stars, Kases, your siblings, Uren, the rebellion. It was inevitable that your conversations would eventually go in that direction, they just wished it didn’t have to be so soon.

Yandere Destruction Deity who immediately tries to convince you to back out of the war when you tell them you’re helping Uren. You can’t! You’re too weak, too soft.

They’ve seen the beasts the Great ones have at their beck and call, and not to mention the giants, the cyclopes, and all manner of creature they were going to sic on Kases’ children.

Yandere Destruction Deity who begrudgingly approaches Uren, and tells you not long after that they’re going to join in this foolish endeavor. They can’t exactly leave you alone, you’ll need somebody to protect you after all.

Who cares if they themselves don’t know the first thing about fighting. All you have to do is swing some blade, right? Bah, it doesn’t matter! They’re going to keep you safe, nothing will ever even come close to harming you as long as they’re here.

Yandere Destruction Deity who soon finds that they’re rather good at this whole fighting thing, hell, they’re probably the best. Probably only second to Itia, but they were a brute who simply relied on sheer force to get what they wanted, however when it came to skill? To prowess? To the ability to wield a weapon like it was simply an extension of your own body? Nobody could beat Qhetohr in that aspect.

Yandere Destruction Deity who became an entity whose name was whispered only in the darkness illuminated by a campfire, between soldiers of the Great ones who dreaded meeting them on the battlefield, especially once they were able to harness the power of the literal void to their advantage.

They were reminded again of the overwhelming difference between the two of you when they learned that you had become a name that was spoken by hopeful prisoners who wished for you to arrive to grant them freedom, while they would solve problems with their blade, you were far more diplomatic in your approach. Convincing generals to side with Uren, and freeing the enslaved soldiers.

Yandere Destruction Deity, who even amidst the rebellion, always makes time for you regardless of how busy they get with managing their own forces. They fuss over you, and grow red with fury whenever they see a new scar on what used to be a flawless landscape.

But all worries are washed away whenever you flash them a kind smile, and assure them that all is well; “This shall come to pass.” You remind them, and they must force themselves to accept it. Regardless of how they wish they could just shield you away from all this violence, they’re stronger now, they could protect you, you could both still run away from this. However you only shake your head and tell them you’re both in too deep now to quit.

Yandere Destruction Deity who runs up to you, swings you up, and spins you around, laughing all the while. The rebellion is over, and Uren won. The both of you can retire back to your garden! And spend the rest of eternity there, just you and them. Isn’t that amazing? It’s the best thing that came out of this stupid war. Forget the fact that all these enslaved races have been liberated, who cares really? All they can think about is how you’re now safe in their arms.

Yandere Destruction Deity who isn’t all too pleased to learn that they’ve been appointed as Uren’s general for their exemplary performance during the war. What the hell? They didn’t sign up for this! They’re meant to spend their retirement with you, damn it. Yes, they enjoyed fighting, but not as much as being with you, duh. Stupid Uren! But after some convincing from you, they reluctantly accept this position.

Yandere Destruction Deity decides that this isn’t too bad, really, not when they get to put down any possible threats to your safety. There’s a lot of people who’d like to get their filthy hands on you, you know? Especially since you played such a big part in Uren winning the war. Don’t worry, they’ll get rid of all these bugs for you. It’s no big deal for somebody with their power.

Yandere Destruction Deity who is confused when they learn of Uren’s new creation: Humans. What were these things sculpted in the gods’ own image? What were they meant to do? How long could they last in a fight? Safe to say, when their questions were answered, Qhetohr wasn’t too pleased. They don’t get what’s so great about them, when they’re basically just useless flesh sacks.

Yandere Destruction Deity who still doesn’t get it when you explain to them that it’s because humans have so much boundless potential that they’re so exceptional, but they lie and promise you that they do. Even if they’re soft, squishy, and the least impressive of all of Uren’s creations, they’ll spare them. Especially since you’re so enamored with them.

Yandere Destruction Deity who gets restless when things finally become peaceful. They thought they’d be happy now that there’s less threats to you, but their body has gotten so used to fighting all the time that anything else feels strange. Any time they hold your hand, they have to remind themself to loosen their grip, and any time you come close to even hugging them they have to restrain themself from grabbing you by the collar and flipping you over then pinning you to the ground. Though… in retrospect it doesn’t sound that bad in the right context.

Yandere Destruction Deity who spreads whispers, inciting fear, paranoia, and destruction. Mortals, who had at that point established tight-knit communities, became wary of their neighbors, and it didn’t take long before conflict was starting to brew between them. Their words even affected Uren, who was growing suspicious of their own son, Ebris, the god of the Sun, who was more beloved by the pantheon than they were.

Yandere Destruction Deity who encourages Uren as they descend into tyranny. Delighting at the feeling of warm blood staining their skin once more, as they cut off the heads of who Uren perceived as treasonous. Mortals, monsters, even some who were minor gods, none were safe from Qhetohr’s ‘punishing’ blade.

Yandere Destruction Deity who feigns innocence when confronted by the other gods of their possible involvement in Uren’s change, a sly smirk on their face as they tell their siblings they don’t know what on earth they're talking about! They swear on Kases’ grave. But when it’s you who asks them if they really have no involvement, they falter at the fact that you’d think of them as the cause behind this, even if it’s true, their chest still clenches at the thought you could think of them like this.

Yandere Destruction Deity who denies it, of course they would. But the look in your eyes tells them enough. They ask you if you’re going to tell the others, and they can’t help but smile when they see you visibly hesitate. You tell them you’ll keep it a secret, but you won’t dissuade the others from trying to discover the truth themselves.

Yandere Destruction Deity who isn’t surprised when another rebellion emerges, this time led by Ebris. It was inevitable really. But what truly shocks them is when they learn that you’re joining Ebris’ faction. They knew you’d never side with Uren, not when everything they were doing now stood against you as the God of Mercy. But never did they think you’d betray them by joining forces with Ebris.

Yandere Destruction Deity who never thought it’d be you forcing them to their knees in surrender, they’ve never seen this expression on your face. So cold, yet in your eyes they can see pity, and so much sorrow and regret. It was like you blame yourself for this six decade long mess.

Yandere Destruction Deity who fully expects to receive the same fate as Uren, a beheading for all of the world to see, but is surprised when they see you speaking to Ebris in hushed tones. Your gaze flickers to them every so often as the conversation continues on. What are you doing? Are you actually-

Yandere Destruction Deity who is stunned speechless when Ebris announces that instead of a beheading, they would instead have their powers restricted and be imprisoned.

Compared a beheading, this was an improvement. Or, at least it seemed like that to others. In reality death would have been better, so much better than years locked away unable to see you.

Twas the night before Qhetohr would be locked away, trapped in one of Ularus’ inventions. The thought of being imprisoned wasn’t what bothered them, but instead being apart from you for that long.

They’ve been told tales by Nuyja, stories of husbands away at war, and of wives mourning the distance that had to be between them. It always sounded so dramatic, probably because it was, but right now they’re starting to feel like one of those wives.

As the Ofriedian metal dug into their pale, marble skin that you always admired for its flawless texture, their dark eyes caught onto something past their bars. The familiar hem of a [f/c] robe. Their eyes widened, and their suspicions were only confirmed when they saw you walk out from wherever you were hiding.

“[N-Name]?” They spoke in a whisper, like you were some animal that they’d scare away if they spoke too loudly, “Is that you?” They got up from where they sat on the cold, stone floors and approached the bars.

You pulled down the hood of your robe, “It’s me, Qhetohr.” Your voice was equally as gentle, but that was just how you always spoke. Instead of greeting him with your usual smile, your face was impassive and as impenetrable as stone.

“Have you come to free me?” Qhetohr knew better than to hope, but they couldn’t help it. Ever since they’ve been imprisoned here while Ularus worked out the final kinks in their next cage, all they had for company was their mind.

And all their mind could do to stave off the madness that came with boredom was daydream of a life with you in seclusion, on some beautiful island where you could have a new garden and they would have enough room to take out their frustrations on the wildlife.

The disappointment that followed when you shook your head was immeasurable.

“Oh…”

You are silent in response, you were never one for speaking much. You always preferred to listen whenever you talked with Qhetohr, giving your wise input every now and then. They didn’t mind the silence before, but why did it bother them so much now?

“Qhetohr,” Your voice was different as well, they noticed, colder than before, “Before you are imprisoned, I must know one thing.”

Qhetohr placed a hand around one of the bars separating you two, “What is it then?” If only they didn’t have this chunky bracelet, perhaps they could’ve reached a hand through the bar and touched you.

You took in a deep breath, and let out a shakier one. You licked the bottom of your lip, and then wrapped a hand around the same bar Qhetohr was gripping. You moved your face closer to them, and they tried not to gulp, “Do you regret what you’ve done?”

At that, Qhetohr had no answer.

You had the rare ability of being able to render Qhetohr speechless, cultivated from countless hours listening to them, observing them, and well honed through debates about topics such as the difference between the gods and the Great ones, the meaning of life, and whether or not the gods were all that different from mortals.

It was the one of the many reasons you were the only god they had a truly functioning relationship with.

At their silence, your face contorts. Your brows furrow, your lips purse, and your [e/c] eyes fill with what can only be described as sorrow. They cannot bring themself to look at you, for they do not want you to see the shame that is starting to invade their heart.

Your hand falls from the bar, and as it does it brushes against their own and they restrain themselves from reaching out to try to clasp at your warm fingers, instead tightening their grip on the inflexible steel.

When you speak, your voice is hoarse, and if Qhetohr were to look at you right now they swear your eyes would be wet with unshed tears.

“I truly am as weak as you say I am,” You speak quietly, voice barely above a whisper, “Despite the sins you’ve committed, I cannot find it in myself to hate you.”

Their eyes widen, and their head snaps to look at you, but it is too late. The hood of your cloak is pulled back up, and you’ve already turned to leave. The last they see of you is the hem of the cloak they had sewn for you themselves.

Yandere Destruction Deity who is stuck in an endless void similar to the ones they are able to harness themself, and tries to break out. Even if their powers were restrained, surely they’d be able to access at least some of them, right? But unfortunately for them, nothing works. They’re stuck.

Yandere Destruction Deity who wanders the endless void, trying to find a gap somewhere, some sort of imperfection Ularus made when creating this prison. All the while their mind races with thoughts of you. Your first meeting. Your laugh. Your smile. Your kind eyes. Your final expression as they were sealed away.

Yandere Destruction Deity who feels like they’re going insane. They’ve never spent so much time without you before. They’re starting to feel like the mortals they’ve seen on the streets during Ebris’ rebellion, deprived and hungry for the filthy substances Boztrix’s temple produced. But all they’re craving is you, the sweetest drug they’ve ever tasted. Sometimes, they swear they can see you. A specter haunting them in this fucked up hell, comforting them yet at the same time driving him down the rabbit hole further and further.

Yandere Destruction Deity who swears that they see light, in what seemed like a never-ending black landscape. I-is it you? Have you come to free him from this cage- Oh wait, it’s just another one of Uren’s children. Vetnos, god of the Sea. They can’t help but sigh, they still remember when they used to bully the god when they were but a small babe. Scaring them using their void powers whenever he wouldn’t go to bed. Perhaps he’s coming to taunt them? Something something, “How ironic that you’re trapped in the same shadows you’ve used to haunt me with,” something like that, maybe?

If Vetnos thinks he looks any way intimidating, then he’s sorely mistaken. Even bound and trapped, Qhetohr could probably take him down.

“What brings you here, insignificant son of Uren?” Qhetohr drawls, a single dark brow raised, “Here to taunt me? I thought you’d be more mature than that by now.” They can’t help but tease him, it’s not their fault that Vetnos was so fun to mess with, he always had such interesting reactions, even when he was a child.

Vetnos glared at them, eyes the same color as the sea during a harsh storm, “Silence, Qhetohr, if I must remind you, it is you who is restrained here.” Qhetohr can see it in the way that Vetnos is carrying himself, the boy is practically shaking in those leather boots of his.

“And if I must remind you,” Qhetohr sneers, and walks over to Vetnos till they were eye-to-eye, “I didn’t need my powers when I killed your father.” At that, Vetnos flinches. Dhealdir, the first God of War, and one of Uren’s lovers. Vetnos’ father was one of the best soldiers in Uren’s army, but Qhetohr was the general for a reason.

Qhetohr smirked, and then backed away from Vetnos. They cross their arms, “You still haven’t answered my question Vetnos.” They tap their finger against their bicep, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of the bracelet digging into the flesh of their forearm.

Vetnos huffs, the storm brewing within his gaze tempered reluctantly, “I have come to offer you a deal.”

It was hard for Qhetohr to restrain the urge to chuckle, and so they didn’t, the sound flowing easily past their lips, “Let me guess, you want me to fight for you in exchange for my freedom?”

“What- How did you know that’s what I wanted?” Vetnos asked with a bewildered expression on his face.

“Before I was ever the Deity of Destruction, I was simply an outcast among my siblings,” Qhetohr explains, “When I sided with Uren during their rebellion, they all changed their opinion about me rather quickly.”

That’s how the gods were, unless you were able to give them something of value you were no better than the dirt beneath their heel. The only good thing about mortals is how they foolishly waste their time on things that don’t matter, they don’t care if something has a use or not, as long as they like it they’ll keep it around.

“All my family wants from me, is for me to be the dog on the leash they can sic on their foes,” Qhetohr narrows their eyes at Vetnos, “What is there to suggest that you’ll be any different.”

They smirked when they saw the vein bulge in Vetnos’ forehead and how he clenched his fists tighter, the gods never liked having their own flaws pointed out to them, it made the reality that they were just as imperfect as the lowly mortals they looked down upon all the more real.

“Anyways, how’re you going to free me in the first place?” Qhetohr asked. Ularus’ creations were annoying as hell because the bastard always built them to only have one weakness, and it was always way too complex for its own good.

Suddenly in Vetnos’ hand appeared an orb of water the size of a child’s toy ball, “Ularus always has such unorthodox solutions to his machines,” Vetnos played with the water idly, “That fact, all the gods are aware of.”

Qhetohr rolled their eyes, “And so?”

“So, I thought if you were to bind a god in a void devoid of anything except the never ending darkness,” Vetnos approached Qhetohr, who watched with wary eyes, and held the orb of water over one of their bindings, “It was best to go for the simple approach.”

Vetnos dropped the orb of water, and it splashed onto the bracelet.

Qhetohr stared, “Was that supposed to do something?” They should’ve known better than to trust the younger gods, but here they were, letting one drop a ball of water on their hand and getting it all wet.

Vetnos sighed, it was clear to Qhetohr that whatever patience he had managed to gather was already starting to run out, “You are familiar with Ofriedian metal, correct?”

Qhetohr’s gaze flicked over to Vetnos’ hand, which still hovered above their own, now soaking wet, hand, “It is older than you are, of course I am familiar with Ofriedian metal.” They sigh, “If all you are here for is to soak my hand, then I’d like you to go back where you came from-”

But Vetnos interrupted them, “Ofriedian metal is surprisingly very similar to iron,” His fist then clenches, and the water coating the bracelet seems to change and then seep into it, “And iron, as you may know, rusts.”

It started off small at first, but as the seconds passed, the change became more noticeable. The Ofriedian metal started to lose its dark color, and slowly the color of rust started to invade the bracelet. Qhetohr watched with rapt attention as one of their bindings, that after so many years, was finally showing the signs of age. They could feel the changes too, the sharp spikes that had pierced their skin when the bracelet locked itself onto their wrist were starting to recede into the bracelet.

But then, Vetnos’ hand spread out, and whatever was happening ceased.

“Fascinating…” Qhetohr murmured. If Vetnos had allowed it to continue, they would’ve been halfway over to being a free god.

“You see the power I hold now, Qhetohr?” Vetnos’ voice held an arrogance that wasn’t there before, “I am your only way of escaping this prison.” He had a smirk on his face, and despite how it frustrated Qhetohr to be so weak as to need the help of others, they couldn’t deny that this was the first time in a long time that they ever dared to hope of being free.

Qhetohr’s thoughts went back to you, as it always did during their time here. Would you be happy to see them, and welcome them back with your warm embrace? Or would you scorn them, and draw your blade against theirs? They hoped it’d be the former, but they had enough sense in them to know it’d most likely be the latter. But still, they had to take the chance that you value your relationship enough to show the mercy that you’re famed for.

Qhetohr sighed, “Fine,” They placed their hands on their waist, “What is it you want me to do?”

Vetnos grinned, “Swear your allegiance to me,” From the expression on his face alone, Qhetohr knew the younger god was giddy. He looked like a boy again, instead of the divine being that was freeing a force that he could not hope to contain.

Qhetohr considered the offer. They did not find the idea of being bound to one of Uren’s sons pleasing, but then again, there were always loopholes to be exploited. As long as they can twist their words then whatever forces above the gods would turn a blind eye to what they planned to do.

“Very well,” Qhetohr sighed, and then took a knee, “I, Qhetohr, child of Kases, and deity of destruction, madness, and the void, swear to fight for Vetnos, god of the seas, in exchange for my freedom.” They hadn’t sworn an oath of allegiance to any other since Uren, and so the words felt unnatural on their tongue.

Vetnos puffed up his chest, and had all the arrogance of a spoiled child who finally got what he wanted after throwing a tantrum, “I, Vetnos, son of Uren, and god of the seas, accept this oath, and swear to free Qhetohr, deity of destruction, madness, and the void, from their chains.”

A tense atmosphere seemed to envelop the two of them, as the entities above watched Vetnos, who approached Qhetohr and used his powers to destroy the bracelets, and the collar around their neck. When the last one clattered to the ground, a red, glowing thread appeared between the two of them, tying them together by the wrist.

Qhetohr ignored the string connecting them to Vetnos, and instead inspected the holes that the bracelets left in their wrists. They were small, and interspaced perfectly, like the pricks of a needle. That is, if the needle pierced through their skin and buried itself deep in their godly flesh.

“Since we’ve finished the vows, I must remind you of a few things Qhetohr-” But before Vetnos could continue speaking, and setting down rules that Qhetohr would be forced to follow for the rest of eternity as long as they’d serve under him, Qhetohr flourished their hand and a piece of the void that surrounded them leapt out and wrapped itself around Vetnos’ throat.

Vetnos choked on the air, as he felt the newly formed collar wrapping itself tightly, with enough force to crush his throat. His stormy blue eyes bulged out and were filled with righteous fury at Qhetohr’s trickery.

Qhetohr chuckled, “You didn’t really think I’d just let you do whatever you wanted to me, did you?” They shook their head and clicked their tongue in disapproval, “Truly, Vetnos, I thought with age comes wisdom, but clearly that doesn’t apply to you.” A wicked grin formed on their face, “But I guess that doesn’t apply to you.”

If Vetnos’ face wasn’t turning blue from the lack of oxygen, it would surely turn red from, if not anger, then humiliation.

Qhetohr stroked their chin as they contemplated what to do with Vetnos. They could kill him, which would remove the oath, but then the other gods would get suspicious. They do not know why Vetnos wanted them to fight for him, but if he went so far as to look for them of all people, then that must only mean there was a war brewing among the gods once more, and Vetnos was one of the key players.

Qhetohr’s mind wandered, going back to the last conflict they participated in: Ebris’ rebellion. As their gaze focused on Vetnos, who was only turning more blue as the seconds ticked by, they recalled Uren, Vetnos’ parent, who they were able to control with the same darkness choking Vetnos.

Their eyes lit up as an idea entered their head, and then they smirked, “Do not worry Vetnos, for this day shall not be your last,” They reached out their hand, and the void from the collar flowed like smoke to Vetnos’ gasping mouth. Vetnos’ eyes widened, and he struggled even further, moving wildly like a fish out of water.

“It would do you well not to fight it, Vetnos,” Qhetohr drawled, “Just let go, let it consume you.”

Vetnos ignored their advice, and closed his mouth, keeping his lips firmly shut so as to not let more enter him. But they simply entered through his ears, and his nose instead. Soon, as more of the void started to fill him, Vetnos’ resistance faded and then he nodded his mouth once more, welcoming the darkness inside him.

When there was no more collar around his neck, and Vetnos’ eyes held a strange gleam, Qhetohr smiled, sharp and unnerving. They did not need to speak, and Vetnos fell to his knees, and then bent his back and pressed his head against the floor, right in front of Qhetohr’s feet.

“I, Vetnos, son of Uren, and god of the seas, release Qhetohr, deity of destruction, madness, and the void from their oath.”

The string binding them snapped, and Qhetohr let out a deep sigh of relief. Finally, they were now truly free.

Qhetohr gestured for Vetnos to rise, and he did. They raised their hand, and called upon the void that had once been their prison, and it obediently followed their orders, and gathered swiftly in their hand.

Once the last of it joined in, what they held was a pure black cube. They then placed their other hand on top of it, and crushed it as one would crush a fly.

Qhetohr looked around, and was pleased to see the bright blue sky, to feel the tall grass tickling their legs, and the radiant sun that had trapped them in the first place beating down upon their pale skin.

Thoughts of you immediately flooded their head, and a smile formed on their face. Not harsh, not cruel, but instead it was one that a poet would make thinking of their beloved muse.

“Soon, [Name],” Qhetohr relishes in how the sound of your name still rolls off their tongue as naturally as their own, “I will be your steadfast companion once more, and no war will ever separate us.”

Yandere Destruction Deity who never thought they’d be able to leave the stupid box, but here they are, neck free from that heavy collar, wrists no longer being wrapped by those thick bracelets, the sun which they wish to consume with their void shining down on their marble skin.

Yandere Destruction Deity who decides to lay low for a while. Although they want to see you so much it physically hurts to be apart from you, they have to be patient, though it’s hard, they never were good at this whole waiting thing like you were. They decide to learn more about what’s happened since their imprisonment nearly two centuries ago.

Yandere Destruction Deity who is tempted to reveal themself and challenge the God of Victory to a duel to the death when they learn of the state of your relationship. No, they’re not just tempted. They need to. But for now, they’ll restrain themself. That can come later. You were always naive and oblivious to others' feelings for you, despite your seemingly infinite wisdom. They’re sure you didn’t mean for it to happen, it was surely that young upstart’s fault.

Yandere Destruction Deity who finally decides that it’s the right moment to strike, and appears at your temple. It’s the only one you have. The one they built with you back all those years ago, when things were far more innocent than they ever were now. They’ll make sure not to make too much of a mess.

They are outside your temple, the elegant, pale marble untouched by the war and devastation that has plagued the earth since they've been unleashed. Good, your house remains as safe as it was during Ebris’ rebellion.

Qhetohr’s eyes wander over the marble pillars, the sturdy roof, and the well-trimmed shrubbery; the green served as a fine contrast against the pure white of the marble. Nothing had changed much since the last time they were at your temple, and that was nearly two centuries ago. A new statue, a tree cut down, flowers blooming where there was only grass, but everything else was the same.

They walked up the steps, their heart racing faster. Qhetohr paused in front of a statue. You, not in the nude like other gods, but instead in your old cloak, head bowed and a small, gentle smile on your face. Hands clasped together in prayer. For who, even they are not sure.

Inscribed on the pedestal, are familiar words.

[Name], God of mercy, Patron of slaves and the shackled, Father of Dakmes, Ugrena, Bagbris, Ather, Rhohdos, and many heroes. Kindest of the gods.

Kindest of the gods. If a mortal were to call any other god this, they would be smited for such blasphemy. All gods were gracious, at least that was what they all claimed. But all the gods acknowledged that you were the one with the most love in your heart, and so this inscription remained.

Qhetohr entered the temple, sandal clad feet silent, face cloaked just like your statue. The fabric is as dark as the voids they summoned, the only splash of color being the gold embroidery at the hem, a match for your own.

One of your followers, young and still filled with the last flushes of boyhood, notices them first. He looks up from his sweeping, “Good day to you,” Like all your followers, he spoke slowly and with a calmness that is hard to find these past years, “What brings you to this temple?” Qhetohr noticed the discomfort in the boy's expression, he could tell that there was something strange about them but could not place his finger on it.

Qhetohr surveys the area, and finds that, save for a few other followers strewn about cleaning the floors, that it is barren. “Where are all the others?” They ask.

“They are in the libraries, or in the gardens,” The youth replies, “Why? Are you looking for one? A sibling perhaps?”

Qhetohr smirks, “Something like that,” You were more to them than just one of their many siblings, you were their only confidante, their first and only love, but to call you their brother was not wrong.

“What is their name?” The youth inquires.

Qhetohr’s eyes narrow, like a fox, and they grin, “[Name],” They supply. The youth flinches, the oppressive aura he felt was because in front of him was a deity. He falls to his knees, the broom clattering to the ground and attracting the attention of the others, who watch as he bends down and his head presses against the cool marble.

“Forgive me, lord!” The calmness in his voice is gone, replaced with a high pitched begging, “I- I did not realize I was in a presence of one as great as yourself-”

“Shh,” The boy flinches, but does not dare look up, “Stand, child.” Qhetohr has a smirk on their face, but their eyes are as cold as any other god when they meet with the boy's fearful gaze. Not warm like yours, for there was never another god quite like you.

The others watched with wide eyes as they realized who it was they were staring at, and immediately resumed their work, but their ears could not help but continue to listen.

“Where is he?” Qhetohr asks.

“Lord [Name] is in the gardens,” The youth steadies his voice, and it impresses Qhetohr how assured he sounds despite how he's shaking like a leaf, “If you’d like I can-”

“No need,” Qhetohr was already walking past him, “I know my way around.”

Qhetohr walked through the elegantly carved halls of your temple, unlike other temples, it was built during the first rebellion. From the hands of the cyclopes, who you had freed from the Great ones, and who had in return swore their lineage’s loyalty to not only Uren, but to you as well.

Perhaps that was why among all the gods of the oldest pantheon, yours and Qhetohr’s siblings, you were one of the few that remained. On the very marble hung paintings depicting your deeds, drawn by the hands of Addia herself, a Great one who sided with the gods after you had slain her husband Lilios.

Even if their eyes have seen these landscapes many times, they never grew wary of the sight of them. You swearing an oath to Uren. You freeing the Cyclopes. Your form clad in your Ofriedian armor, plunging your spear into Lilios’ neck. You fighting by Qhetohr’s side, watching their back as their blade slices through the necks of the Great one’s soldiers.

Qhetohr slows to a stop at the last one, your face is as hard as stone, yet still as beautiful as no other god has ever been or will be, and kinder than any creature on earth. They remember watching as Addia painted this one, and critiquing how harsh she had made you look. In contrast, Qhetohr’s face is one of devilish delight as blood splatters on their pale skin.

You shook your head when you saw it, “I do not want you to be immortalized like this,” You rarely complained about anything no matter how much it bothered you, “If it would not stain Addia’s name, I would have this painting burned.”

Now, Qhetohr’s name is only remembered by the bloodshed and devastation they’ve caused, and even if it displeases you, they do not deny that they prefer it this way.

Qhetohr finally arrives to the entrance to your garden, the only place they've ever felt at peace. The sound of running water from the fountain, your doves chirping, and idle chatter between those working in the garden takes them back to more innocent days, when the only people in the garden would be the two of you.

Qhetohr steps foot inside the garden, and sticks out like a sore thumb. Their black cloak, a stark contrast against the verdant green, and immediately one of your priests approaches them. “Excuse me, young one, but you are not permitted inside Lord [Name]’s gardens,” The old man speaks like he does not sense Qhetohr’s naturally oppressive aura, “I must ask you to leave.”

They sigh, this old man surely recognizes them, does he not? The paintings are still on the wall, and though they were not the main subject they were still a prominent figure standing beside you. Qhetohr’s eyes narrow down on him, “Who are you to order me around, mortal?”

The old man flinches at the sight of Qhetohr’s eyes, and his lips tremble, and then he shrieks, “I Ávyssos!” The Abyssal. Qhetohr snorts, they haven’t heard that title in years.

The other priests and priestesses look up from their work and their eyes widen at the sight of Qhetohr, who clicks their tongue and then glares at the old man, “Should’ve held your tongue,” They smirk, “No need to hold your tongue when you won’t have one, eh?”

Before Qhetohr’s words could settle in the old man��s feeble mind, they shot out their hand and a black beam shot out and forced itself into the old man’s mouth and wrapped around his tongue. Then, it crushes the tongue till it’s nothing more but a bloody mass of flesh in the old man’s mouth. He tries to scream, but he cannot.

Only then do they see you, you came as soon as you sensed your followers’ terror. Your beautiful [e/c] eyes widen in shock, and then harden, “Qhetohr,” Their name falls off your tongue like it’s an insult, “How did you get out of your prison?”

The rest of your priests and priestesses try to run away now that you’ve arrived, but Qhetohr summons tendrils made from the void that hold them in place and gag their mouths.

They smile pleasantly, “Did a bit of bargaining, but that’s not what matters,” Qhetohr walks closer to you, and their smile grows wider when you do not back away, “Aren’t you happy that I’m back, [Name]?”

When they reach out to touch you, only then do you step back, “You’re not meant to be here, Qhetohr,” You remind them, “You were in that place for a reason.”

Qhetohr groans, “Oh come on, [Name]!” They whine like a petulant child, “You were always such a stick in the mud,” Qhetohr then grins, and snake an arm around you before you could get away, “You really don’t miss me, hm?”

You push them away, “How could I miss somebody like you?” They know you’re lying, they know you better than the back of their hand. But it’s difficult to keep that smile on their face.

Qhetohr grins, and then the gagged followers let out muffled screams as the tendrils tighten around them. Your eyes widen, and they chuckle, “Be careful what you say, love,” They croon, “It just might kill these poor mortals.”

“What do you want, Qhetohr,” You’re getting afraid, afraid of them, afraid of what they could do to your followers, their grin grows forced, “Is this for Ebris’ rebellion? Do you resent me for the consequences of your own actions?”

Qhetohr snarls, and the tendrils grow even tighter around your followers and the both of you can hear the sound of their bones creaking, “I don’t! I fucking don’t, okay?” They feel like they’re a godling again, small and powerless before they ever discovered how strong they truly were, “You just- You’re not meant to be like this!”

You don’t even have to ask what they mean. “You’re meant to- You’re meant to be kind, to- to welcome me back into your arms with a big smile and-”

“Qhetohr,” Your voice is cold, “What do you want.”

Qhetohr takes a deep breath, and then smiles, “I want you to come with me.” “To where?”

“That doesn’t matter,” Qhetohr’s smile widens, “Come with me, or I’ll kill all of your followers.”

Your eyes widen, and you hiss, “You monster,” Your nostrils flare, and your fists clench. Like an angry bull seeing red. Never have they seen you so angry before, and their stomach twists from how it’s because of them. You grit your teeth, “Fine.”

Their smile grows even wider, and they summon more tendrils that wrap around your wrists like handcuffs. A chain materializes in the middle between the two cuffs and the other end is being held in Qhetohr’s hand, who tugs it towards them, “Come on, [Name], let’s go.”

“Free them first,” You remind them, and they look at your followers whose faces are filled with sorrow for you, and fear for themselves. Qhetohr nods, but instead of the tendrils disappearing, they instead wrap tighter. Your eyes widen, “I said free them, not-” But it is too late, their bones crack and when the tendrils finally fade away, all that’s left are bloody remnants of what was once a human body.

“The [Name] I knew would’ve been wise enough to make me swear to free them,” Qhetohr chuckles, “But unfortunately my dear, I cannot leave any witnesses behind.”

“You-!” But Qhetohr gags you with more of the tendrils, and leads you out of the temple. Any followers that scream at the sight of the blood covering Qhetohr, or see you in chains and try to help gets killed. Some are spared, but cursed.

Qhetohr glances at you, your face is splattered with blood, and your eyes are still wide in shock. They smile, and wipe away the blood from your face, “It’s all right,” They coo, “You’ll be able to move on, eventually.”

Yandere Destruction Deity, who finally has you back where you belong: Right by their side. They keep you with them back in those islands they claimed during Uren’s rebellion, what was it called again? Ah right, the Ivory Isles. They erect a pale tower as white as the bones from the Great one that made up the island, out of the ground, and now you both have a home suitable for gods such as yourselves.

Yandere Destruction Deity who doesn’t mind that you act so coldly, of course you would. They did kill a lot of your followers back in the temple, and there was still Ebris’ rebellion. Bumps like these didn’t just go away overnight, or they suppose over two centuries, even they were aware of that. You’ll forgive them eventually, you always did.

Yandere Destruction Deity who delights in all the small ways you’re slowly letting them back on your good side, they’re allowed to stand closer to you, allowed to hold your hand again, allowed to wrap their arms around you. Hell, one night you even allowed them to kiss your forehead, the same way you always told them you loved, because it sprouted a warmth within your stomach that spread throughout you. They wonder, as you close your eyes, what they make you feel now.

Yandere Destruction Deity who spends the next few decades puppeteering Vetnos’ body as their conflict with Aenar, dubbed by the mortals as the War of Storms, continues on. It is only when Aenar’s blade finally slices through Vetnos’ neck does it end, but they know the gods will still be too busy to find you, because they’re all too busy starting new wars. Seriously, what in Kases’ name was wrong with the newer generation of gods?

Yandere Destruction Deity who is able to spend the rest of their days in peace with you; tending to your new gardens, watching the stars together, talking about any topic that comes to mind, sometimes even sparring if they’re feeling lenient. It felt all so idyllic, so domestic. In their younger days they sparked an entirely new rebellion just because they were getting bored, but now all they want is to continue living with you peacefully in the tower.

Yandere Destruction Deity who isn’t pleased when they detect that the curse they’ve placed on that young priest of yours has been triggered, who could be the fool daring to search for you?

Yandere Destruction Deity who can’t stifle the laugh that slips past their lips when they learn that it’s the God of Victory. When they learned of your relationship with him, they decided to learn more about this upstart. They wonder what you could ever find of value in this arrogant little bastard to ever tolerate him so much. They’re excited to see what their void will do to Faius’ already decaying mind.

Yandere Destruction Deity who decides to pour more of their energy into Faius’ bracelet, just to ruin the boy further. You notice, and ask them why they’re looking so tired, and they laugh and tell you they’ve just been spending many nights sleepless thinking about you. Their flirtations are enough to dissuade you from asking more.

Yandere Destruction Deity who is surprised when it only takes four months for Faius to arrive at the Ivory Isles, but perhaps they really shouldn’t. If Faius was anything like them, then this level of dedication was to be expected. Really, the things gods do for true love.

Yandere Destruction Deity who persuades you to stay in your gardens, while they prepare for Faius to arrive at their tower. It’s been so long since their blade has tasted blood, they hope for your sake and theirs that their skills haven’t rusted too much.

Qhetohr had seen the statues of Faius, of course they did. In war it was important to make offerings to the God of Victory, but they had only done the more human-looking forms instead of his divine one, which was the one that Faius had arrived in.

What he did share with the statues however, was the way that his armor was depicted. He wore a cuirass made of Ofriedian metal, greaves from the same material, and carried with him his sword, a familiar dove carved onto its hilt that had topaz for eyes.

His eyes were perhaps the most striking thing about him, the whites of his eyes were eclipsed by velvety black and really made the amber color of his iris pop. They hardened when they came to rest upon Qhetohr, who smiled as they waved at him.

“Greetings, I take it you are Faius?” Qhetohr noticed the dark bracelet around his wrist, and smirked. They could end the battle right now, but where was the fun in that? Besides, this guy was the only one who bothered to search for you, so they had to give him some respect.

He grunts, “You’re Qhetohr, aren’t you?”

“Indeed I am,” Qhetohr beams, and then spreads their arms, “Welcome, to the Ivory Isles, God of Victory.” They chuckle, “Apologies, I couldn’t welcome you when you got on the island, I was preoccupied.”

“Save the pleasantries,” Faius takes a step closer to them, “Where is [Name]?”

“Rather impatient, aren’t you?” They sigh, and go down the stairs, “You’re just like your mother, Gholyja. How is she anyway? Still as bloodthirsty as ever I take it-”

Before they can even finish their sentence, the tip of Faius’ sword presses into their neck, “You didn’t answer my question, Ávyssos,” He hisses, “Where. Is. [Name]?”

Qhetohr raises one singular brow, and then takes a step back away from the sharp blade, “I see you’ve inherited your mother’s lust for violence,” Their eyes narrow, “Or perhaps that’s simply my own powers at work.”

Faius’ brows furrow, “This,'' He raises the hand that has the bracelet on it, “Is your doing?” They can see how much it’s affecting him. What should be a flawless face, is weighted down by the dark circles around his eyes that have a wildness to them that they are willing to bet wasn’t there before.

Qhetohr gave him a sly grin as they nodded, “Mhm, who else could possibly be giving you such delicious thoughts if not for the deity of madness themself?” Thoughts similar to the ones that were running in Uren’s head must be going through Faius’ mind as well.

Faius grits his teeth, “I’ll have you killed for this,” He promises, “And [Name] will not mourn your death.”

Qhetohr wants to laugh at that, nobody knows you better than they do. Certainly not this foolish boy with too big a head, so who was he to assume you’d feel such a way? Besides, they only needed to show you the effects of what Faius has done in search of a way to you and then you’d be recoiling in disgust at the mere mention of his name.

Qhetohr summons their blade, crafted from the void, it crackles with dark energy, “I can say the same about you, God of Victory,” They say his title like a mockery and delight in how it causes him to tighten his grip further on his sword’s grip.

Oh, how they’ll enjoy the sight of his ichor on their blade.

☏ - ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇᴍᴀɪʟ: ᴍʀ. ꜱᴀɢᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ.

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere imagines #x reader #yandere #Qhetohr #Faius

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