#religious yandere

[i-cant-sing]

I am in love with your yandere ideas, I don’t know where they come from

Probably some deep dark internal place where god has long since shown his light

Yes💖💖💖 but speaking of God, you know what type of yandere I want? The type we all deserve?

A religious yandere who is on knees every single day, praying and crying to God for you. A yandere who is a firm believer that you're two soulmates, that your name was written along side his way before the creation of the universe.

A yandere who does excessive charity and good deeds, asking everyone to pray for him that his God grants him the one he loves.

And perhaps the yandere has tried to get you, but he wasn't successful. Maybe it's because he's poor, maybe it's because you're not compatible with him, or maybe it's just because he's a walking red flag with his inability to take no for an answer (for real, you've threw your shoe at him too when he showed up at your door

Soon, people start to pity him/admire him for his persistent and pious self, and when they hear the way he describes you, how utterly and completely in love he is with you, their heart just breaks.

So, now people start to slowly pressure you into accepting him, telling you that his love is pure, and that no one will ever love you/care for you as much as him.

You turn them all down, telling them to mind their own business and of course, they're hurt by your rudeness. They tell yandere about how mean you are and how he deserves someone much better. The yandere shakes his head and smiles sadly.

"Her. Only her. God has made her for me, and I for him." He'd say, before going back to praying and it's only now that people realise that that's all he does. He prays for you, all day, all night. And it's starting to show that he's also stopped taking care of himself, spending his all of his time doing selfless good deeds and praying for you.

They are moved by how... devoted he has become. Watching how even when he's sick, dishevelled with the high fever, all he could mutter is your name over and over again like a broken record. And they ask him, why do you not ask your God to grant you health? And yandere would smile and reply, "I'd never ask Him to take away any suffering he gives me, for perhaps he'd take pity on me and grant me my beloved Y/n."

With him becoming a sort of Saint now, and being impressed by his love and devotion to you, the yandere mentality starts to spread to them. Soon, the town people form a small cult. Their mission?

To bring you and yandere together.

And since you're not taking the easy way, they're gonna go ahead and kidnap you, keep you locked up in their basement where perhaps once or twice a day, you're tortured by someone, telling you this is how your life is gonna be from now on.

While you're slowly breaking down every day, the yandere is worried now that he can't find you anywhere. He starts running around panicking, looking for you everywhere, heart sinking when he can't find you.

And that's when the town people's second part of the plan begins: guide yandere to where you are and let him be your Knight in shining armour.

The yandere finally finds you (after all the hints from the people) and he looks like he can finally breathe again when his eyes find yours.

"Y/n." He breathes out, walking towards you, but restraining himself from hugging you, for he remembers how you told him that you're repulsed by him, he remembers all the terrible things you'd spew at him.

But then a miracle happens. You throw yourself at him and start crying, begging him to save you- to get you out of here.

He feels like his world stopped for a few moments when you touched him, his rapidly beating heart finally coming at ease, matching the rhythm of your heart.

He nodded, inhaling your scent (despite you being sweaty and grimy) and telling you that everything will be alright.

And when he takes you home- to his small, humble abode, taking a washcloth to clean the dirt of your face, the town people can't help byr watch from the windows as their plan succeeded. The yandere tells you to sleep, that he promises that he won't do anything unbecoming of a man before leaving his house to get you something to eat.

And the people can't help but ask why he looks sad right now. Didn't their plan work?

The yandere sighs. "I'm worried. Y/n, she was hurt by someone. And- and I don't want to think what would have happened if I didn't save her. But..."

"But what?"

"But now she wants to leave the town. Says its too traumatising for her to stay here." He sniffles. "What will I do when she's not here? When I can't even see her anymore? What if someone hurts her again and I'm not there?"

What the fuck?

-

A day or two later, when reader starts packing her stuff, some people from the cult come to hera and lay down the law for her.

"You're not leaving, Y/n. Because if you do, we'll make sure it's in a coffin." They start threatening you, even thrashing you.

Another part of the cult goes to yandere and starts putting ideas in his head.

"You can't let her leave."

The yandere sighs sadly. "What can I do? I can't force her to stay here-"

"Yes, you can. Yes you can! Don't you see? She's your soulmate, the one who was created for you. You can't let her go- that would be like rejecting God's gift to you!" They begin brainwashing him. "She's too naive to see what's good for her! It's upto you, her better half, to save her!"

"But she wants to leave-"

"She doesn't know what she wants is not good for her. She doesn't know what she really needs! What if she wanted to jump of a cliff? Would you let her? What if she she wants to put herself in danger? Would you let her?"

The yandere's eyes darkened. "No."

"Then save her. Save her from herself."

-

By the time yandere comes to your place, you're all bloody and bruised from the beating from the mov earlier, and yandere growls as he asks who did this to you.

This time, he doesn't think twice about touching you as he picks you up and carries you to the couch, and starts cleaning up your wounds.

"They- they won't let me go! Please, you gotta help me leave town!" You cried, and his heart breaks a little at your tears.

He wipes them away. "I'm afraid I can't help you."

"Why?!"

"Because I can't protect you if you're not with me." He cups your cheek. "You're God's gift to me, and I am His gift to you. You are mine, and I am yours. And we cannot be apart from each other, Y/n. Don't you see how much harm it has already caused you?"

The cult outside couldn't help but smile as they watched you begin wailing and trying to escape yandere, only for him to tackle you down and kiss you.

They decided to leave you two alone (not really, a few of them still stood outside in case yandere needed their help capturing you or you tried to escape/hurt yandere.

The rest of the cult now began the third phase of their plan: making yandere and you as the cult leaders.

Should I make this an oc? A new one or perhaps an old one?

[llonelygoddess]

This is feeding into my dream fantasy of corrupting a Mormon. Continue on. 

† church boy

[ sfw | tw : religion (not named but heavily implied), sacrilege, potential religious trauma? as well as general yandere content but it’s v tame ]

male yandere x gender neutral reader! only pronoun used for reader is ‘you’. i havent written like this in a very long time so i apologize if this is bad ;_;

abraham lived a simple life for the majority of his 21 years on this planet. he was born and raised in a religious household, the only son of a wealthy pastor, surrounded by typical bible-thumping folk who taught him that *** was above everything, above him, above the things he loved, and putting anything (or anyone) above his faith would surely result in his damnation. and his whole life, he believed that.

that was… until you entered his life.

it happened at a fundraiser he was volunteering at. it was any other day for the boy, handing out advertisements and chatting with everyone that came and went. an average, mundane event for him where he’d talk about the same things he did every day, smile, wave, everything that was expected of him.

after the last person in his line had left, he looked down to begin organizing his things so he could join the rest of the party. when he was shadowed by someone stepping in front of him again, he expected to see a familiar face — maybe someone that might’ve forgotten something? but when he looked up…

abraham’s breath caught in his throat. he swore the earth had stopped spinning the second your eyes locked.

whether if you were there because you shared the same religion, was dragged there by a friend/family member, or simply because there was free food, he had no clue - but it didn't matter. your looks, the way you moved, the sound of your voice — why was it all so... enchanting?

he couldn’t help the slight stutter in his words as he hastily offered you a pamphlet, quickly introducing himself and inquiring about you. what was your name? were you new to the church? why haven’t you met before?

the soft laugh you emitted as you spoke and the feeling of your skin grazing his felt like fire. and your name... oh, the poor boy didn’t even realize it, but he couldn’t help it — within moments of knowing you, he had grown totally enamored!

abraham found himself hovering by your side for the rest of the event. he was awkward, you’d quickly realize, but it was in that sort of sweet, inexperienced way. he was desperate to know you, to get closer to you, hoping that maybe if he could understand you, he’d figure out how to quell these intense feelings that had built within him — but to you and everyone else, he was simply making sure a new face wasn’t alone during the event. he was just being a good little pastor’s boy! that’s what he told himself too, over and over again.

he was being good by making you laugh. he was being good by giving you his number. and it was good that he grew elated by the idea of getting to see you again after this. he was a good person, so what if he was neglecting his duties to be around you? he did what he was supposed to all the time, surely he could be forgiven just this once.

right?

his obsession with you didn’t take long to blossom after that first meeting. you started to infiltrate every part of his life in one way or another. his prayers became tangled up with thoughts of you. rather than reading the bible, he’d reread the texts between the two of you while he waited for you to respond to them. when he went to church, he found himself scanning the pews in hopes of spotting you among the congregation rather than finding a seat right away. when service began, he couldn’t focus on the preaching taking place because he was too busy thinking of ways to see you again.

despite the utter adoration abraham had grown to feel for you.. at some point, for the first time in his life, he couldn’t help but wonder — was he becoming sinful? was he growing gluttonous for your attention? he couldn’t have been, he had been so devout his entire life! it was fine for him to miss a few services to see you as long as he made up for it later…

he couldn’t tell if you were an angel, as heaven-sent as he felt you to be, or if you were the embodiment of temptation, pulling him away from his faith and beckoning him to sin. were you both? could you be both? with the progression of his obsession with you, his conflicted feelings about his relationship with his faith grew alongside it.

maybe you just weren’t any good for him.

but your name and god seemed to always come up at the same time…

so maybe, it was a sign that he had someone new to worship.

[ozzgin]

I just watched The First Omen at the cinema and you may go ahead and cuff me for blasphemy, but…

Devil x Reader

You have been chosen by the Cult as the one to carry their ungodly plan after many failed attempts. This time it was a success, yet not for the reasons they might expect. The Devil has his eyes on you.

Content: female reader, mentions of pregnancy, religious themes, blasphemy, violence, horror, a non-consent scene!, based on The First Omen (2024); image from the promotional poster

Why you, of all people? You're not particularly devoted to religion, nor do you stand out in terms of virtuousness. Or lack of, for that matter. Alas, their reasons remain unknown.

What's certain is that you woke up one day and found yourself strapped to a foreign bed, staring into a ceiling you didn't recognize. You weren't alone. Around your helpless form stood men and women, dressed in black and wearing a solemn smile. Your forehead received a gentle, encouraging stroke from the hand of the priest. The scent of chrism invaded your nostrils.

You begged them to release you. The older man spoke softly in your ear. "You are serving a greater purpose. It is all in the name of God." God? Purpose? You rolled your eyes back and gazed upon the large painting hanging behind you. Virgin Mary and her blissful smile and stretched out hands felt like a mockery.

The holy image vanished as a black cloth was nonchalantly draped over your face. You felt the rope tighten around your neck and begun gasping for the scarce air barely making it through the thick canvas. A crescendo of muffled chants, and the room went abruptly quiet. Had everyone left?

Then you heard it. That profane growl, causing the entirety of your body to shiver in repugnance and terror. You trashed, and pulled, and screamed, to no avail. A clawed hand rested on your bare stomach, then a second one traced the rest of your body. You laid limp, vision blurred as the room swayed in tandem with the sacrilegious act.

You'd been defiled by a Beast. The next time you opened your eyes, you were back in your bed. Your hopes of it being a mere nightmare were shattered the moment you lifted your gown and noticed the deep scratches, the monstrous prints left on your skin, and the hollow sensation in the pit of your stomach. Your body had been tampered with, and something was growing out of your misfortune. A vile blight, throbbing with life within the comfort of your flesh.

You spent the months haunted by voices and visions. The grotesque, horned Creature would frequently reappear in your mind, exhausting all other thoughts. Such a heavy, imposing presence. It wouldn't let you forget, not even for a second: you belonged to Him, and He would soon return to retrieve you. The mother of His child, the object of His adoration. Was such a thing even conceivable?

You prayed to be left alone, yet the Cult naturally longed for its promised gift, bound to come back eventually. And so, once more, you were facing the people who caused your despair. "We've come for the child", the priest explained, glancing at your obvious, bulging belly. The clawed hand framing it was still a fresh wound that never healed, almost as an ominous warning: this body was owned by a jealous God.

Your trembling hands revealed a pocketknife. This time, you were prepared. The group took a moment to observe your daring gesture, then proceeded to approach you with calculated steps, with newfound resolve. Would you be able to keep them away? Their intentions were clear: you were in possession of the Antichrist, and they needed to secure this immense power.

The ground shook, and everyone froze. You glanced at the altar painting, the same one that witnessed your corruption. Virgin Mary remained with an unfaltering smile. From behind the ornate frame, large, horrid hands creeped out. A travesty of everything Holy. The priest gasped and quickly threw his hands in prayer. This was not part of the plan. This was not meant to happen.

"Pater noster, qui es in caelis-" he began, but his voice was cut short. His face turned pale, and he clutched his chest with a terrible grimace. The nun next to him let out a scream before she was pushed away by an invisible force. Her body hit the wall with a loud, wet sound of bones breaking and flesh tearing. You stared at the massacre unfolding before you, devoid of any fear. Somehow, in the depths of your soul, you knew you'd be safe.

An enormous shadow emerged from behind the painting, twisting, bending, stalking towards you. Your nose scrunched at the stench of blood. You were the last one standing among corpses. To your surprise, you exhaled deeply, shoulders drooping in comfort. A silent voice murmured in your ear, telling you not to fear. That Father was finally home for you.

Foolish, ridiculous humans. He'd been willing to entertain their petty plans of grandeur, until he met you: your tender, frail body, your innocent soul. How exalting it was to have his way with you. You were meant to be the one. To carry His offspring into the damned world. But not for some trifling reason of a Cult desperate to crawl their way back into control. Their greatest mistake - which led to their demise - was to assume the Devil himself can be controlled, ordered around. He has allowed you the greatest honor of joining him, out of your free will, to sow the seeds of chaos as his beloved mortal.

Thus, he couldn't have possibly allowed anyone to interfere. What you saw that day, in that old, musty underground cavern, was an omen: a bloodbath awaits the one who dares to approach his human.

You look up into the demonic orbs: trenches of madness, obsession, vulgarity, burning holes into you, slurping your very existence with hunger and lust. You are his.

[threepandas]

Bad End: Eve

You know how most Otome games are vaguely historical? Usually some non-specific mishmash of European countries? But fluffier and with more bows? It had once "gotten" to me, I think. I remember looking for outliers. Non-joke ones. Something that wasn't just "but this time with hats!"

I found one.

And now? Now I'm not sure if I curse that day or thank whatever force of nature lead me there. I guess... I guess it depends. Would I still have ended up HERE? If I had not found it? If so, then I genuinely and actually fucking rue it. Like... like actual "you'll rue the day! Bwahaha!" Type rue it. That's me. Ruing.

But? If it was always going to happen?

Then I guess...

I guess I'm weirdly glad. Because at least I have some fucking idea of what's going ON. Terrible, as it all is. Fucked, as the situation is. At least I'm not... not confused. Blind and at the mercy of those around me. Ignorance truely isn't bliss. All it does is leave you to try an fill in the blanks yourself. Usually with something far worse.

Not that the situation could GET much worse, by much.

I was in an Otome game. NOT a flower, high society, and dragons kind either. No. I? Was in a Dark Sci-Fi otome game. "Fate of man" was thrown around a lot. Power of luuuuv~ and such. Also, you know, HORRIFIC ethical violations. Human experimentation. Cataclysmic events and humanity "starting over".

All the high drama sci-fi concepts you could expect. It was a romp. Had good art. I'd had fun! Which is why I remember it so clearly.

Less fun when you're IN IT.

When you AREN'T one of the characters you KNOW will survive.

In fact, are one of the characters you know WON'T fucking survive. And will probably die MESSY. Horribly. Cause see, our BELOVED Harem collecting Protagonist? She? Was AN Eve. "AN".

Take a wild fucking guess what THAT project is about.

Did you say "breeding a better race of humans"? Ding ding ding! With humanity currently fucked, they want to FIX the problem by FIXING humanity. And of course, fuck ethics! Volunteers? Why use those?! Let's horrifically mad scientist our way to atrocity-ville! Make it all the more "God rightfully punishing us for our unforgivable sins" when we get wiped out!

Fffffffuck YOU, plot! I have to live here too!

You may, in fact, be picking up a slight note of stir crazy. A "wow, this lady rambles like a mother fucker" vibe. You would TOO, if you were stuck in a FUCKING TUBE. All I can do, day in and day out? Is wake, think, observe, then go right back to sleep. I can't even eat! I got a TUBE for that!

I... I miss showers.

Everything is GOO.

I'm an Eve. And if it weren't for the air tube controlng my breathing? I'd laughing hysterically until I died. And no, not in the "oh how funny" way. God. Oh... oh god. What a way to die. NONE of the Eves survive "the program".

Those IDIOTS are so OBSESSED with making bigger and bigger, better and better, FUCKING JUGGERNAUTS? That the Adams? Have long since reached the point of "mindless killing machine". UNSTABLE is putting it lightly. There is sexual dimorphism and then there's literal incompatibility.

But GOD FORBID the scientists admit that THEY are the ones with the inferior product.

It... it was even part of the game's plot. The scientist who made "Eve" HID her while HE made an Adam. I do not have that luxury. Somewhere, there is an unstable BESERKER being told I'm his "wife". That we're going to be HAPPY together. That he'll get to put his bruising, blood soaked hands anywhere he WANTS... just after he WINS me from the other Adam's.

Got to prove HE'S the best specimen, after all.

It makes my skin crawl. All I can hope, is that I can either provoke the bastard enough to kill me before they have a chance to stop him, or? I use my own enhanced strength to snap my neck. Maybe bite my tounge. Like HELL am I letting an Adam get near me.

The hiss of laboratory doors.

"Perfection at last..." Comes a relieved sigh. "All those HIDEOUS specimens. Why they make me suffer them, I'll never understand. We should have terminated them months ago. My poor project, they really think they're WORTHY of you..."

There's a derisive laugh. The scientist strolling into the lab I've been developing in, familiar. I watch him casually shrug off his lab coat and dump is bag. Hang his coat over the back of his chair. Turn, as he does each day, to STARE up at me. His eyes are a pale, pale purple the likes of which I've never seen before.

They're HAUNTING.

There is almost a red tint to them, though maybe that's the lights. The goo. I can never tell. He always looks ENTRANCED by me. Floating, visored, connected to far too many tubes an' wires. I'd think it was the fact that I was naked if it weren't for the way his gaze doesn't seem to drift lower then my shoulders. Seems more entranced by the way my hair moves, as though under water.

I've never once heard him talk about me lustfully.

But that doesn't mean he doesn't SCARE me.

"Let's begin, shall we? Time for your daily doses, mmm?" He says, voice dangerously affectionate. As though i had CHOSEN to do this to myself. As though he were merely reminding me of my morning medicine and not the hell ahout to come. "Going to be good for me? I know you shall, you always are."

He turned back to his desk, his computer. A few keystrokes... and I could feel the pod above me begin to hum, as it awoke. Oh god. Oh god it never got easier. From the corner of my eyes, bright chemicals slide down thind lines and into my veins. Like lines of lava. Bolts of electricity and pain. It was... AGONY.

My muscles seized. Brain screeched, first to the screaming I wish I could make... then static. With the long practice of daily pain, it took me far away. The click, click, click of keys. The sound of his voice, so terribly PLEASED, as I hung there and just TOOK it. No restraints, no strugging, no damaging myself. Just unbearable fire in my veins and a brain far, far away.

"Good girl~"

Distantly a phone rang. He made an annoyed sound, but picked up regardless.

"What. I'm in the middle of- ...Excuse me? I'm quite sure I did not hear you correctly. I said 'NO'. She's not-....I will NOT BE-...What. Are you out of your god damned MIND? That pile of scraps you call a project is coming NOWHERE near my-! ....you think you're clever, don't you?"

"Fine. You want to TALK? Let's TALK, Anderson. I'll be there in five."

From far away, past the pain, I watched him chance down at something at the screen. Back up to me. He hung up the phone but did not pause the program. Instead, calmly rising from his desk. Shrugging on his lab coat. Rounding the desk and striding towards my bio-tube.

"Hmmm, honestly, it should have been spaced out over a few more days... but you can take it. Endure a bit longer for me, would you, darling? Daddy's going to go deal with something for just a moment, he'll be right back, my perfect girl. Be good."

He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to my tank. One hand splayed next to it like he badly wished he could touch. Could stroke skin. Hold his creation close. It was not the first time he had done this. Small, covetous, little actions like he wanted to crawl inside my skin and STAY there. Like he cursed the glass that separated us.

He pulled back. Shifted to the side and kneeled. He... had hidden something behind my bio-pod? When? Apparently before I had become aware. Because I had not known about it. A black shoe box. I watched him open i-GUN. Thaaaat was a gun! Fuck. Well at least? By the time anyone thinks to look in on me? The overdose will probably have killed me?

There is a cold, terrible smile on his face as he rolls to his face. Tucking the gun into an inner pocket. It has a silencer. He leans forward one last time. Lightly kissing the glass of my pod, as though heading off to work and not to very obviously kill somebody. The pain continues. Builds. I watch him leave.

With nothing to anchor myself on... time blurs.

I think? There are alarms? Red lights flash. Then they stop. There is shouting at one point. But then silence. An explosion? Or am I hallucinating? Pain. My nerves are on fire. I don't want to have SKIN. Please... please make it STOP! Calm foot steps? Come to kill me? Please come to kill me. Make it STOP.

The lights died a... time? Ago? Emergency lights on now. Generators in the room are loud. Why can I still hear the feet? Footses? Words. H..hurts. please.

Click.

The pain eases to a stop. Aching but nothing new. Over? Oh, thank god. I can sleep now, right? But... sound? New. At my feet. Gurgling. Wha-? The very top of my head feels cold. Then my forehead. Then my temple's and ears, cheeks, jaw... wait. Is? Is the tube...DRAINING? I open my eyes.

When did I close them?

He's back.

Standing right in front of the tube. Blood staining the hem of his coat, lingering marks of his massacre cleaned but not quite scrubbed from his body. There are little off red stains on his cheek, from what must be blood splatter. They look like tiny freckles.

I'm... I can't...

I reach as the tube down my throat is pulled almost carelessly away by the machine. Choke, suffocate, as the same is done for my air tube. But then it's done... and I can BREATHE under my own power. Gasp and splutter, as the goo sloshes around my knees. Then it's gone. And the tube I've been leaning my weight against is roughly pulled away.

I collapse forward, my muscles having never actually supported me in this life.

Arms catch me. Wrapping me in a possessive hug. A hand immediately burying itself in long uncut hair, even as the other wraps itself around my torso to lean me against his body in a cradle. My face is pressed to his neck by the hand in my hair, cradling my head and neck. I can feel breath against the goo wet crown of my head.

"Finally~" he breaths out, whispering it against me like a sigh. "My beautiful, perfect girl. My darling creation. It took so LONG. Those retrobates interfering at every turn, lusting after you like ANIMALS, trying to keep you from me. Then, worst of all, trying to toss you to some pack of savages? Oh, darling~ Daddy's been so worried for you."

"But we'll be okay now, won't we? I finally have you. All fresh and finally finished. My perfect Eve. You can pick any name you want, of course. You and I will be leaving this ugly little place. Daddy has PLANS. A fresh new world, just for you, sweetheart."

He laughed, his hug tightening in a way that would have left bruises had I been a normal human. Kisses were pressed to my temple. A cheek, rubbed against my hair. He seemed... seemed GIDDY with it. That nothing could stop him now. There was no glass in his way. I could not move yet. My muscles twitched when I tried, but that was it. I wasn't even sure I could talk yet, if I tried.

"Aaah~♡ Welcome to the World, Darling. My Perfection. My Eve. This time no snakes or Adams to tarnish you. To get in your way. Just you and your Father~"

"FOREVER~♡"

Next: ->

[taintedbenevolence]

Self Aware! AU [MONDSTADT EDITION]

warnings! yandere content, obsessive, possessive and unhealthy behavior, implied / mentioned kidnapping, drugging, stalking, gaslighting, manipulation, non-consensual touch, toxic relationships, slightly religious themes/practices (?). Please do not interact/read if said themes bother you!

✦ series! genshin impact ✦ characters! Albedo, Diluc, Kaeya, Venti ✦ pairings! Separate per character ✦ category! yandere

✦ ALBEDO KREIDEPRINZ ✦

self-aware! albedo, who realizes quickly that he's in a game, finding it curious as to how he was created within such a vast game without his initial knowledge/awareness. self-aware! albedo, who finds it more intriguing when he hears your voice for the first time, realizing that there is another, external being watching him, observing what he does. self-aware! albedo, who finally realizes who controls the traveler, understanding now more what is going on the world in Tevyat. self-aware! albedo, who believes that you are the rightful god, the only one watching everything, the one whom he should worship and adore. self-aware! albedo, who becomes more and more enraptured by the concept of your existence, not caring if you are human or not in your physical constitution. self-aware! albedo, who slowly begins to fall for you, despite not having ever met you, praying to you the archons and heavens that one day he may be able to catch a glimpse of you. self-aware! albedo, who is convinced and determined that you are the only true perfection that must be pursued in this hopeless world destined to rot. self-aware! albedo, who slowly breaks his way out of the game, absolutely enamored at the sight of the real world - the only world he should've ever cared for - the one he was forbidden from entering. self-aware! albedo, who is determined to find you, you whom possessed that lovely voice that soothed and eased his mind. He will not rest until he finds you. self-aware! albedo, who when he finally finds you, only then believes that he's truly ever seen an angel. He won't allow you to leave, no matter how hard you try, for you are his beloved, his god. You are an enigmatic existence to him, and he must study you further. Surely, you understand?

✦ DILUC RAGNVINDR ✦

self-aware! diluc, who takes time before he finally grasps the concept and truth that he's merely a character encoded within a game. self-aware! diluc, who starts to hear your voice on occasion, now curious as to who you are, and why he can hear but not see you. self-aware! diluc, who becomes determined to find out who you are, and why he hears you so often yet can't find you. It irritates him. self-aware! diluc, who figures out that you must be an external presence, one outside of the game. He becomes obsessed in trying to get out. self-aware! diluc, who succeeds in escaping the game, even feeling unnerved at his own feelings that grow rapidly for every day that passes by. self-aware! diluc, who manages to find you, rather angry that you've concealed yourself from him, but satisfied that he's found you. self-aware! diluc, who ties you down to your own bed, arguing that you're safer where he can keep an eye on you, but also pondering if he should take you away to somewhere else where you won't be found. self-aware! diluc, who decides to act on such thoughts, one day bringing you to an unfamiliar place where he believes you'll be safe, tying you to the mattress located inside, trusting you'll be fine. self-aware! diluc, who holds you when he's tired, whispering sweet nothings to you, acting as if everything is just perfect, a fantasy, except that this time, it's real. This isn't a fanfiction scenario you read online somewhere - this time it's real, and the horror is sinking in. self-aware! diluc, who swears and vows to protect you with his life, regardless of what costs it may bring to him. You are his one and only, his newfound purpose, and he won't let you go so easily.

✦ KAEYA ALBERICH ✦

self-aware! kaeya, who is genuinely surprised when he finds out that he's just a set of codes, and well... he starts to find it almost funny how everything around him is really just not real. self-aware! kaeya, who realizes and accepts this reality. His joy, his life, what he felt, all that pain it was all just a sad joke, eh? To him, it almost feels like the world's been mocking him, yet he laughs at it, willing to entertain this sick reality. self-aware! kaeya, who makes indirect comments that insinuate the breaking of the fourth wall, to which grasp your attention, and quick. No characters had done this before, this is certainly something ... new. self-aware! kaeya, who comes home a bit more often than you thought he would, just showering you in some good luck and fortune that others won't be granted. You're happy, right? You should be. self-aware! kaeya, who doesn't let you take him off your party. Seriously? Who do you need other than him? Allow him to show you just what he can do - there's no reason for him to leave. self-aware! kaeya, who finds his way to the real world with ease, and (un)surprisingly enough, his first stop is the bar. Ah ... the money? Don't stress about that, sweetheart. self-aware! kaeya, who one day finds you at a bar, and offers you a drugged glass of wine. Oh, feeling a little tipsy, darling? Dizzy? Lightheaded? Nauseous? You look a little pale, what's with that look of shock on your face? Oh, worry not, Kaeya's here to help you out, so don't go making that face. self-aware! kaeya, who takes the liberty of kidnapping taking you to where he resides, bringing you to his basement as he ties you up to a chair. You'll be up and going right by his side soon enough, won't you? self-aware! kaeya, who will tease and make playful remarks of how unfortunate and terrible it is that you're all locked up with no one to help you. But oh! Don't worry! He'll be right by your side. Every. Waking. Moment. self-aware! kaeya, who delights as you plead him to let you go. He laughs. Free you? I'm afraid that request is out of the question. He wipes your tears with an eldritch smile, promising you that you'll learn to love this in time too.

✦ VENTI, BARBATOS ✦

self-aware! venti, who finds it amusing as he realizes that he's in a game. If anything, he thinks it's a new opportunity to mess with everything for his own entertainment. self-aware! venti, who'll send random letters to you, varying from good morning messages all the way to comments relating to what're your thoughts on your travels in Mondstadt, or if you like other nations more. self-aware! venti, who deliberately makes eye contact with you. Not the traveler. You. He knows that you're the one controlling the traveler. He wants to make you aware of that. self-aware! venti, who makes you aware that he's aware of the fact he's in a game. He'll tell you that he wants to see the outside world, craving to be free. self-aware! venti, who one day appears in your room, playing the lyre, and you're not sure if you're hallucinating or not. You exit, and come back, and he's gone. Are you seeing things? self-aware! venti, who sings to you lullabies while you sleep, the tune a sweet one with words even sweeter, just like the poison that is his love for you. self-aware! venti, who makes appearances every now and then in your life. Not too many, but sufficient to question what you're seeing. No one believes you when you tell them it's him. What're you talking about? Venti doesn't exist. Wake up. self-aware! venti, who makes anyone who bothers you vanish with ease. Did someone hurt you? Are they pissing you off? Do you not want them around? He hears a word and he's off already. self-aware! venti, who starts leaving you gifts with short letters, each written note more disturbing than the last. self-aware! venti, who at last kidnaps you, dragging you far and far away, stripping you of the very thing he symbolizes: freedom. He claims and sings to you how free and liberated your presence makes him feel, yet you cannot help but ponder as you silently weep: what does freedom truly mean, if demanded of you by a god?

[grxndprix]

𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 — 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦! 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘶 𝘨𝘰𝘫𝘰 & 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦! 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘶 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘰 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮! 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘵𝘸 — 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘯 (𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩), 𝘴/𝘢, 𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘢, 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 ��𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘪 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘪𝘥𝘬, 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭

A fresh new start always felt like bull.

It was like fate itself holding her life on puppet strings. Moving her like a numb pawn in a chess game. Everything felt calculated for everything except her. She just had to wait for things to go her way every once in a while, before it fell apart again.

Right now, it was going fairly mundanely. Nothing interesting or even mildly negative had happened in a while, though nothing had either. She had already been living alone for quite some time. Moved out of her parents’ house as soon as possible and invested in a house of her own for the sole reason of hating apartments. Too rickety, and she would feel safer in a smaller, single house than with broken windows or whatever else.

[name] ran a ringed hand through her hair, huffing out a breath as she hauled her cross-body bag over her shoulder. The job down at the local cafe awaited straight ahead, and despite her fears, she wasn’t a child anymore, she could do this. 

Morning pink and white skies, highlighted with gold clouds had her taking in the fresh air. In fact, it wasn’t until she picked her walking pace up again, stepping toward the cafe doors, that the slightest bit of dread began to pool in her stomach.

A sigh, and [name] reached for the handle as she made her way inside. Her eyes wandered, trailing along the gold embellishments among the otherwise green, brown, and orange-ish tints around her. She lumbered on her way to the back of the building, swiftly tugging her uniform on and starting to take orders from her position as cashier.

Customers piling in couldn’t deny the coziness, some of them staying for quite some time. [name] herself enjoyed every second spent on the job and could never imagine quitting. Or— At least… Those were her premonitions for now. It was a steady source of income while living alone, the atmosphere was nice, the people were nice, it wasn’t—

The doors opened just as the clock chimed at 3 o’clock. 

Not even a divine mercy could save such a tragedy. In waltzed two figures, tall in stature and a bit intimidating with their builds. [name] gulped for a second, feeling the cozy air around her start to dissipate. Despite recognizing them as regulars, the girl was unsettled. They always came in and just… observed her every move. She averted her gaze for the sake of her own well-being, lips pursing and unpursing. The feeling of her lip gloss brought back some sense, and she snapped out of her stupor.

In the short time she’d looked at them, she noticed they looked pretty identical to the last time. Cold white hair, blue eyes that held the world in their irises, black uniform — He was the one whose gaze raked along her entire figure, always whispering obscene things to his friend. Of course, said friend had raven hair, long locks that swayed with each step. They were tied up into a bun, and his matching eyes always remained locked on her face, barely wavering. His irises held nothing but sorrow, the weight of the universe—

‘Don’t judge people by their looks,’ She reminded herself. It’s rude to do so, even in this case… Her eyes flicked back to the pair, and she physically had to hold herself back from flinching. Both of their gazes were locked right onto her, one sporting a small smirk, and the other smiling softly. 

The man smirking ran a hand through his snowy white hair, whistling lowly and leaning over to whisper something in his presumed friend’s ear. The smiling man whispered something as well, raven locks swaying in the small breeze. She wouldn’t have cared about any of this had their stares not been piercing into her. Something felt off, something really felt off— What was once just invasive had turned predatory. At least before, it didn’t feel like this.

The first time the pair had come into the cafe, they took a seat and seemed to talk casually for a bit. They weren’t ordering anything, but just to be sure, [name] had made her way over and asked them if they wanted to try anything off the menu. She tried and failed to conceal her wince when their eyes snapped up to meet hers. 

That was the first time she’d experienced true intimidation. Satan regarded the two of them with a shiver, and she felt her hand tremble at her side. As if they had gotten what they wanted, the pair smiled, but the notion didn’t reach their eyes. 

Neither one of them spoke a word for a moment, until—

“Just coffee, thanks.” The ravenette had a gentle voice, countering his intimidating stature. She nodded, a strained ‘Of course!’ falling from her lips before she walked back to her place at the counter. Still, she felt their burning stares pierce through her back. 

Fate held a scissor to the string.

She tried to mind her own business. She really did. Returning to brewing some coffee for the person in line, sliding it across the table, and giving them a smile. Her lips could barely form the words, “Have a good day,” before she cut herself off, eyes widening. The coffee she had handed them knocked out of their grasp, laying spilled on the floor. 

[name] gasped quietly, eyes darting back up to meet black and blue hues. She froze a second, suddenly realizing that while she’d been on autopilot, spacing out— The rest of the cafe had gone empty. Beginning to yell at the pair, the customer the coffee had been for looked beyond pissed. They opened their mouth to continue screaming at the white-haired man, but—

A swift flick of his fingers, and the customer went flying across the room, seemingly gaining momentum as they crashed against the wall and hit their head hard enough to knock out. A sickening crack echoed throughout the room, allowing [name] to freeze completely. Her face paled in horror at the sight, a horrifying entity forming right behind the customer. They didn’t get the chance to fight, head effectively bitten clean off their body. 

Blood poured forth from the stump like that of the Lord, body falling limp. The crimson color had splattered all over the walls and floor, a horrifying canvas of the spiral to hell, to purgatory— 

Muted noiret hair cascaded over his shoulder as the man knelt on one knee in front of the body. He seemed to observe the way a few ants had already begun crawling out of the small hole in the wall, breaths quiet. Then, he cracked a smile. “‘Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?’… May your god have mercy on your soul, low-life.”

With that, the entity swallowed the rest of the customer up whole.

It was quiet for a second. A clock ticked in the background, but she swore it almost felt like the seconds had slowed down. [name]’s mind was running wild with the visual and implied information dumped onto her. ‘What was that entity? Why did they kill the customer? What were they gonna do to her? Was this it? Were they going to kill her too?’

Despite the icy look he sent the corpse, the white-haired man huffed out a snicker. “C’mon, Suguru, don’t be like that.” He dragged the last word out, cracking his knuckles in front of him. His sapphire eyes took their time in studying every reaction [name] had to offer. From her shivers to her darting eyes — He consumed it all.

The ravenette chuckled too, lightheartedly smacking the other on the back. “How else should I be, Satoru?”

That seemed to snap her out of her state. The girl tried to scream, all blood leaving her face, but all she could form was a weak whimper. Her hands clutched at her uniform in an effort to ground herself, trying to sprint for the back. There were about 15 steps between herself and the door. She only made 3. 

A hand clasped around her wrist, tugging her backward and into a chest. “Trying to leave so soon? Oh c’mon now, princess,” Satoru’s hand trailed down to her waist, lips brushing against her earlobe and greedily drinking up the shivers he got in return. “We haven’t even started yet.”

Suguru made his way to her front, one hand in his pocket while the other grabbed her cheeks to make sure she looked right into those pools of tar. He smiled softly, a stark contrast to Satoru’s smug grin as his lips nipped at her neck. Suguru took in every little detail of her face, including the blood from the customer’s splatter. The pores, the imperfections, the perfections— He couldn’t get enough. 

“You’re a beautiful thing, y’know that?” He muttered, as if it was a secret only between the two of them. Something that no one else should ever know about. She tried to form a remark, anything to tell them off— But all it sounded like to them was a puppy’s whines.

His lips came crashing onto hers with a passion that rivaled Hades as he pursued Persephone. [name] tried desperately to push them off, using every bit of the strength she had— Yet as they backed her into the backroom, she knew it was all in vain. The realization didn’t stop her though, lips finally pushing past their rest and yelling for them to stop, almost sure it might draw the attention of someone outside. Before they closed the door, she saw that it had begun to pour rain, loud enough to completely mask any and all of her noises.

Satoru was the one that pushed her down onto the counter, Suguru immediately beginning to pull her oversized shirt off. The white haired man ran a hand through his strands at the sight, a hissed “Fuck,…” pulling through his throat. The ravenette saw how [name] tried to cover herself again, face pink, and immediately pinned her wrists above her head.

“Shh… It’s— It’s okay, we’ll take care of you, right, ‘Toru?” His voice was tight, like he was refraining from saying something, doing something— She tried to tug her wrists away from his hold, yelling for help, telling them to stop, just about anything that could just end the moment here and now. 

A chuckle, and Satoru leaned over her body, face mere centimeters from hers. His lips practically brushed hers as those damned jewel-like orbs devoured her own. 

“Yeah, we’ll treat ya real good, princess.”

𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘭𝘮𝘢𝘰 𝘱𝘭𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘯�� 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘰𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘳-𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘶𝘦𝘭 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘰𝘬 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘹 𝘰𝘶𝘵 ☆

[elfarons]

You're My Religion

cw: nsfw mentions but nothing explicit, religious themes, power dynamic, (tell me if i missed any O_O)

priest!Ren who has devoted his entire life to the town's temple since birth, committed to preaching the holy gospel

he noticed how his faith started wavering, jaded after being in this lifestyle for so long, missing something...

passion.

when was the last time they felt strongly about.. anything?

this will surely past, he tells himself as he pushes through, seeing the churchgoers smile after their prayers make them feel closer to heaven, but he's never felt farther.

ren prepares for what could potentially be his last sermon, telling everyone to bow their heads in silent prayer.

he will determine whether or not he'll give up this lifestyle after this last day-

when you walk in for the first time.

as soon as you see each other, it feels like time stopped. it feels like heaven's gates opening, it feels like their heart beats for the first time in years.

it was like you were the only two people on earth as you held each others gaze.

he couldn't believe god had sent down an angel.

you smiled and broke the stare, sitting down a couple rows behind the next person.

the priest of the town's church, who is used to having eyes on him, feels hyperaware of your stare. after he finished preaching, ren beelines straight towards you, introducing themself and inviting you to one-on-one appointments to acquaint yourself with the religion.

you came to the first meeting. then the next, and the next, eventually becoming a near daily routine. after a couple weeks, the appointments started to feel more like hanging out with a best friend, conversations evolving from church topics to the more personal details.

your life recently fell apart out of nowhere. you lost your job, you're backed up on bills, then your friends have all left you. he would never leave you. every time, ren would reassure you this is a test of faith and comfort you with warm hugs that smelled of clean linen and myrrh.

his hugs always made your heartbeat faster. you hoped he never noticed.

he proposed you move into the church as a temporary solution. of course, you accepted. what choice did u have?

although he insisted it was fine, you wanted to pay him back somehow, so you started helping out around the temple.

ren was absolutely ecstatic. everyday you would see each other, if only for just a quick smile from across the room. you'd have to leave soon after, but ren would pinch his wrist and hold his pendant, cursing himself for wanting you so bad.

you were eager to help out everyday. the holy water was running out? you would assist ren in making holy water. the garden looked a little too sad? you'd tend to the plants, maybe surprise ren with a lotus from a nearby pond. the living quarters needed cleaning? ren told you to clean his room last because the others must be tired and he'd stay up late anyways.

you noticed ren had little to no decorations around his room. that's odd, considering he's lived here basically his entire life, but you didn't push the matter.

as the holidays neared the church was busy with preparations, with ren being the busiest. god he missed you. the way you'd always smile at him, show genuine interest in what he had to say, look longingly at his lips...

after entering his room, he laid down, exhausted. his bedsheets smelled so nicely of you. how did they smell of you so perfectly? whatever he's not complaining. mind wandering, he barely registered his hand trailing down into his pants, thinking about their perfect angel.

he could almost imagine that you stayed behind and you were the one touching him. or maybe he would tell you to sit back and let him worship you instead, letting his lips and hands perform a prayer so full of devotion even god would be jealous.

in the following days, they couldn't even bother to feel ashamed, even when it looked like the statues on the walls stared into his soul. their only regret was that they couldn't work up the courage to confess everything they felt to you... until tonight.

when you both finally had a chance to talk it felt like home again. you both talked well into the night about anything and everything. from how you wanted to restore the garden, to how stressed ren was about all this pressure on him and how he just needed someone, anyone.

he's done so much for you, you can practically feel your heart shatter when tears start streaming down his cheeks. he doesn't deserve this.

he shakes when you hug him, not just because he's genuinely about to break down in his angel's arms, but he's also so terribly happy.

he's got you now.

...

...

but you were never completely innocent were you?

you knew what you were doing the first day you walked in. the rumors said the priest was good-looking, so naturally you styled yourself to perfection.

the rumors weren't even close because holy shit. tall stature, flawless pale skin, broad shoulders, dark hair in a loose, low ponytail resting on their shoulder.

angels are real, and one is looking right at you.

the meetings excited you as much as they did him, feeling a guilty pleasure at how he would sometimes ignore his duties to stay with you a little longer. but eventually you would always leave for your job, hoping he'd miss you like you missed him.

you let them into your life. you knew that fire at your job was to get you laid off and spend more time with them. you knew your friends left you because you saw a figure in all black leave threatening notes on their doorsteps. you knew all the small things you purposefully forgot went somewhere for his own safekeeping.

and every time, you ran back into his arms. but what about everything he's done? why is the man who ruined your life the one you run to for comfort? aren't you scared?

ren was your guardian angel! they had always said your friends and job were toxic anyways and they'd end up hurting you in the long run, but rest assured ren would never hurt you.

after moving into the temple, you saw him everyday and it made you want him even more. even while being worked to the bone, the fleeting glances you shared across the room was enough for you to stop and collect yourself in a hidden corner, holding your heart in fear it might jump out.

eventually, small smiles across the room didn't cut it. when you headed up to ren's room to do nightly cleaning, you noticed the room just smelled so much of them. you missed ren deeply.

well... something small would be fine as long as you didn't get caught right? you laid on their bed and smelled the sheets. it was almost as if he was here, enveloping you in arms, whispering those sweet, reassuring words in your ear...

what started as innocently imagining him holding you ended with swearing to never tell him how just being in his bed had brought you to euphoric bliss.

~ ~ ~

after the festivites. you were sitting with him on that same bed, letting him cry into your shoulder. you rubbed their back up and down, soothing them until their sobs died down and they fell asleep in your arms, exhausted.

when you gently laid them down on their back, they tightly held onto you, afraid to lose you even in his sleep. as much as you wanted to stay in their arms, you didn't want to be presumptuous, so you very softly untangled yourself from their hold.

brushing a strand of hair away from their face. you fondly cupped their face and looked at ren's face while they slept. so peaceful and free from worry. but seeing them so peaceful was just what made you snap.

you wanted to keep them safe, but you had to know more. you want to see his baby pictures, you want to find his middle school diary, you want to know everything about him.

determined, you searched through everything around the room until the bookshelf was left. it consisted of mainly books relating to his studies throughout the years, but there was one book that captured your eye. Angels and their offerings.

there was a click! as you grabbed it and you whipped to ren. still asleep facing you. you felt something was loose, but the book wouldn't come out any more..?

oh. oh. a secret door. you should have guessed as much. being perfect to the public just meant being more careful with secrets.

opening the shelf-door revealed a staircase that led down to a hidden area with light emanating somewhere to the side. you tiptoed down the stairs, silently cursing and tensing whenever a step creaked. finally, you made it down and peeked around the corner to find a door with light dancing under the gap, like it's reaching out. you took its hand and opened the door.

ren has consumed your being. he's your everything.

clearly you were his too.

floors and walls covered with pictures of you, both drawn and photographed. the drawn ones depicted you in a variety of poses and situations. one was you kissing ren while sitting on his lap, another was you, as an angel, holding him while he bled out, presumably bringing him to heaven. the photographs were of your daily life doing chores and talking to the other members, but everyone else's face was crossed out to only leave you in.

starting to get flushed, you examine the back wall that displays a shrine dedicated to you. three tiers of all the belongings he's taken from you, adorned with candles.

the bottom tier was your trash, like the paper you doodled on earlier, a fork that you used at lunch last week, or your empty shampoo bottle from 3 months ago. the middle tier was stuff you purposefully left out for him, like your underwear, your necklace, or the pen you chewed on during bible study. the highest tier seemed to hold his favorites, like the, now dead lotus, the holy water jars he made with you, the sheets that smelled exactly like you.

hanging in the center was a framed photo of the day you moved in, just you and ren smiling at the camera. hearts drawn on the glass in front of your face.

before you know it, you feel two hands on your shoulders quickly spinning you around to look right into powdery blue eyes. you freeze, caught like a deer in headlights, anticipating the worst.

instead, you gasp when ren gets down on one knee, then both, kissing your hand and looking up at you like you've given him all the answers. to them, you truly looked like the most benevolent god.

ren didn't have to say anything for you to get the message.

you were who he will devote the rest of his life to, who he will make offerings for, who they will preach the gospel for.

kneeling down with him, you bestowed him the blessing of a kiss, then let him prove his faith by taking care of you in all the ways you wanted from ren. all the ways you needed from ren. their sinful fantasy of being able to worship you with hands and lips no longer a fantasy.

he will live and die for you. you will live and die for him.

you were his religion. he was yours.

author's note: MIC DROP, HAPPY HALLOWEEENNNNNN MUAHAHA !!! i decided to get a lil smutty in there because i watched secretary and i was like wait,, angel and priest ren with that yearning... a little insecure because i felt like i wrote too much while literally trying to do no dialogue orz i hope you still enjoyed tho!!

literally posting this while getting ready to go out :3 i hope you all stay safe if you celebrate or just have a good day!

ren is from @14dayswithyou , dividers by @/enchanthings !!

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

Sin and Holy

Summary: Lorgar wants revenge on Guilliman, but ends up becoming obsessed with his lover, deifying her.

Lorgar Aurelian/fem!Reader (Roboute Guilliman/fem!Reader background)

Warnings: yandere, obsession, possessive behavior, kidnapping, religious kink, foot fetish, voyeurism

Author's note: Blame our mind worms of "lorgar foot worship plotline".

Word count: 2017

Song: Pet Shop Boys - It's a Sin

Everything I've ever done Everything I ever do Every place I've ever been Everywhere I'm going to It's a sin

The end of the perfect city marked the beginning of a new and better world. But not one world, city or even house is built in a short time. Everything requires time and human will. Lorgar Aurelian understood this while he was looking for answers to his questions.

And even with the acquisition of true faith in Chaos, he knew that victory would only come with time. He wouldn't be able to defeat the Emperor right away. Bring the gifts of the four gods to the Galaxy. Just like he won’t be able to get you right away.

You immediately caught his attention. Roboute Guilliman's personal remembrancer, whom he took with him everywhere. The sightless would say that the mortal girl is too talented. Envious people would laugh at the fact that the primarch of the Ultramarines turned arrogant. But Lorgar knew who you were. Chaos told him.

Lover of Roboute Guilliman. A secret that his brother kept from everyone. Even from the Emperor. If Lorgar had been quick to anger, he would have told the primarchs about you. Would separate two lonely souls. But he did not dare to do this. It wasn't time yet. But soon he would make his brother grieve and suffer. He would have destroyed what was dearest to his heart, as he did with the Monarchy.

“I read your poems,” you carefully strike up a conversation with the primarch, clasping your hands. Your look is innocent and full of sincere kindness. Not admiration or awe, no. You saw him. His soul. - “They are wonderful. In truth, your poems calmed me in hard times.”

You don't flatter or mock him. Lorgar doesn’t need to glance around the room to understand that you approached him yourself. Without Guilliman's knowledge. The bastard who dared to smile at Aurenlian when he was forced to kneel humiliatingly. Anger almost covers the man, but your embarrassed smile dispels the rage like wind blows away fog.

"Thank you." - The primarch smiles softly, fascinated by your gentle influence. “The next time we meet, I will bring you a new work that no one has seen yet. I'm sure it will change the entire Imperium."

Aurelian was above mortals, he was a primarch and the chosen one of Chaos. And yet he was wrong. He could never hurt you. Because he loved you. Stronger than Roboute. Tighter. More furious. Almost to the point of obsession, consuming his soul.

You were beautiful. Your smooth movements were like a soft wind, and your voice was like the whisper of leaves. A soft, gentle light emanated from your soul. Like a ray of sunshine on the water. Your kindness and sincerity of words were like music or scripture. How can he wish evil upon such a beautiful and divine being?

And how can someone not notice your beauty? Not to value and treat as if you are worth nothing? But his brother exceeded all expectations. Through the warp, Lorgar watched as Roboute spent time with you like ordinary mortals. You talked heart to heart, laughed and sometimes even argued. And on special evenings, the man would please you while you gave yourself to him without reserve.

Your body bent on the silk like a reed in the wind, your skin covered in hot sweat. You moaned muffledly, holding onto the headboard with force. Lorgar couldn’t take his eyes off the sight, absorbing your figure, desperately trying not to look at Guilliman’s head between your legs.

While you two indulged in sin, Aurelian, with the help of the forces of Chaos, watched over you. Insatiably and greedily, feeding the laughing Prince of Pleasure with his torments. It seemed to the man that he would make a sound as soon as you opened your mouth in a pre-orgasmic state... but the miracle ended when Guilliman decided to stop and looked at your irritated face with a smile.

“You did this again! I beg you, please, one day finish it!” - you giggle and throw a pillow at the primarch, unable to be angry with him for long. Roboute defends himself from the attack with his hand and shrugs. His eyes sparkle with merriment and his smile is self-confident.

“Can’t help it. I love teasing you too much.”

Roboute leans on you with his whole body, and you continue to laugh into his chest, hugging his warm body tightly. Not noticing Lorgar's bestial gaze, full of black rage. But he could do nothing but continue to watch as Guilliman began to enter your holy gates.

It wasn't enough! You deserved better. Real worship, not primitive sentimentality. And Lorgar was eager to show you this. Longed to touch. Inhale the smell of your hair, feel your sweat and tears on your tongue. Feel the warm skin under his palms. Hear quiet moans.

He wanted you to let him love you. Wanted you command him to praise you, deify you and worship you. And he wanted you to beg him for ascension until you both burned in the fire of desire.

But you don't. After all, you are a kind and beautiful girl, whose soul barely casts a shadow in the Immaterium. But bright as a ray of sunshine, which he want to touch. You are too innocent and pure to turn your attention to a primarch mired in the mud. And so he has to act on his own.

Horus's betrayal came like thunder from a clear sky. What a pity for Guilliman that it was at this time that you decided to visit your family and went to your home world on the ship of the Rogue Trader. Lorgar kindly provided you with protection, assuring you that you would be safe on Fidelitas Lex.

And it was true. You weren't in any danger. Lorgal had enough strength to protect and hide you from all the horrors of the Galaxy. And to his delight, he has enough time to spend time alone with you. This is still a relatively calm time for now. To know you. To feel. To open.

“I heard about what happened on Khur. - you stammer, your eyes turned to the floor, full of regret. - I'm sorry. It's horrible. What you went through and how the poor people suffered. Roba- Lord Guilliman did not want to do this, he was following orders.”

“Let what is past remain in the past. I hold no grudge against my father and brother. - the primarch whispered half-truths like an insidious snake. Still, he was grateful to the fall of the Monarchy for leading him to the real truth. - And I don’t want you to be sad. This is between me and Roboute. It has nothing to do with you.”

You look up at him and Lorgar can hardly contain a sigh of admiration. Surprisingly, you, unlike most mortals, were not amazed by his greatness. However, this had the opposite effect. It was Urizen who was amazed by you.

“You are very kind.” - you smile softly, like a mother, seeing the child’s face for the first time. - “Even in this dark time, I am grateful to meet you. I will never forget this moment.”

And although you may now shake with fear at the sight of the primarch and the Word Bearers, Lorgar knew that everything would change. He believed that you would rediscover your love for him. Unfortunately, he had to use... force after the Drop Site Massacre. You were not a prisoner, but you will still have to be kept locked up for some time. For your own good.

He can’t help but admire your beauty, your radiant soul. How you are in only a white nightgown (Lorgar got rid of all the clothes with Ultramarines colors) after walking around the room, run onto the red silk bed. How your pure image merges with sinful chambers.

The man smiles softly and approaches you, forcefully squeezing a basin of clean water in his hands. He has waited so long for this day when you can become his. When a primarch can touch the greatness of a mortal girl.

“Lorgar,” you say his name quietly, trying to calm him down. But the man just clenches his teeth, feeling like everything in his lower abdomen is filled with sinful lead. - “P-please, don’t do this. I’m sure Roboute will forgive you, you are brothers after all.”

You no longer call him Lord Guilliman. You're still in love with him. What a shame. It's making his teeth hurt. But Lorgar, with tenacity worthy of a primarch, continues to smile at you, kneeling. He doesn't want to scare you even more. You are tender and fragile, he must take care of your holiness.

“The floor is dirty, and you walk on it completely barefoot,” - he himself took the shoes from you. A sharp impulse that the primarch himself did not understand. - “Please, let me wash your beautiful feet with clean water.”

His voice gradually becomes lower from the dark secret desire and you, whining, sit down at the very edge, dangling your legs. And like a righteous soul, you try not to tremble or make sounds as the primarch lifts your skirt, all the way to your knees, which he kisses in turn.

Lorgar sighs heavily, fighting the temptation to lick your whole legs. But he still takes your foot and gently massages it in the water. Alas, this action only inflames the furious heat within him. Those little feet, dainty heels and tiny toes. An absolutely exquisite and elegant piece of art. He is so absorbed in what he is doing that he almost doesn’t hear your voice.

“Please let me go. F-For him, duty comes first. H-he will protect Terra.” - you sob from the way Lorgar squeezed your limb. - “Roboute will not look for me, Lorgar. He won’t.”

The world freezes and even the Immaterium trembles from the overabundance of the primarch’s feelings. How terrible agony and destructive rage gives way to peace. Calmness. By grace. And it's all because of you.

"Yes. He won't save you." - his gentle words, designed to calm you down, only make you more sad. And the primarch cannot help but admire your suffering as a righteous martyr. Which only plunges him deeper into sin. - “And this is his greatest mistake.”

Lorgar carefully brings your washed foot to his mouth and kisses the tip of your toe Before wrapping his mouth around it, sucking gently with moan. His mouth filled with saliva, and a shiver of excitement and awe ran through his body at the fact that he was able to touch you. To your wonderful feet that carried you through this mortal world. He was ready to kiss every piece of ground you walked on.

But instead, filled with your blessing, he gently kisses your foot, licking and biting. Every toe of yours, every vein line on your skin. Lorgar bites your ankle lightly and foreign blood seeps onto his tongue. Tastes like heaven.

The primarch looks up at you pleadingly, studying your face, wet with tears. Is this a vision of the future, a trick of the eye, or is your soul shining brighter than usual? He didn't know. But Lorgar was sure that he saw a halo above your head, which his brother stubbornly did not notice, treating you like an ordinary mortal woman. But Lorgar is different. He won't allow you to be treated like that.

He was and will be a sinner. He was always blamed for everything. But you gave him hope. And he will fully thank you for the healing that you brought to his soul. He will put you on a pedestal above the rest of the world. After all, this is exactly what you deserve. You just don't know yet.

The words fall from his bloodied lips so quietly that they are almost inaudible. But you hear. You can’t help but hear and you cry, choking with tears. Praying for help from all the saints from the books you have read, denying that you became one of them for the primarch who kidnapped you.

“Let me worship you.”

[yanderemommabean]

Obey me Simeon feeling so sinful and awful for accidentally raising his voice at Mammon (who deserved it but thats beside the point). The only way he can feel better and properly repent is if he ties you down and has you cum multiple times on his clothed dick. Think of it as divine scolding, like he is at a confessional or worshipping a shrine. By enduring hours of your writhing, overstimulated pleas while his cock slowly gets drenched but never freed. It will make Simeon sincerely reflect on his actions- he needs you to do it for him. Ignore the way he smiles so widely and cums in his pants so fast, this is very serious punishment for him. He will remember this (as he recorded it) and wont ever raise his voice again<3. Simeon keeps his promises. Although he never promised that he would return your panties

"I truly am repenting, I hope you see that" he pants, breathless but still holding on tightly as he rocked his hips upwards, his cock twitching and coated in not just your essence, but also his own. He's wrung about three orgasms from you so far just like this, your body being the holy grail he cannot drink from if he chooses to continue his sinful ways. This is to show him what he'll miss out on if he cannot obey and be the guiding light he was made to be. He doesn't even allow himself to bend down and lick a stripe up your throat, as much as it pains him to see that sweat go to waste and your soft pliant skin not be marked. But He isn't worthy. He has to repent. Your body is the altar he prays to and your whimpers are the hymns that heal his lost soul, and with every arch and whimper he can pull from you and himself like this, it's one step closer to erasing the dark pit that has seemed to form in his soul. A slow roll of his hips, just right, the perfect pressure and once again you're spewing that delicious essence he wont be able to drink down and swallow like he so desperately wants to. His cock twitches in need, soaked and sticky from the mix of the mess you two are making, but he cannot give in. No. He can't slide every inch inside of you while you blubber and cry and beg for the angel. For, He fears, he hasn't been very angelic. Only a holy being should be able to touch you and he has to remind himself about that thin line he's been walking. "Bless me with your symphonies, cure me with your essence, remind me of all I have to lose my dear. My soul has wandered too far and has forgotten what it was placed in this world for. I beg of you for your forgiveness, and for your discipline. I repent. I repent, I repent, I repent!" He yells, eyes wide and crazed as he presses his cloth-covered cock against your own privates over and over again, your body feeling just how hard his own was pulsing and twitching, practically begging.

As if he truly was being tortured to do better.

His body hunches forward, sweat covering both your skin and his as he allowed the two of you to catch your breath, his eyes peering up at you through long eyelashes as he gives a wicked, almost deranged smirk and steals a soft peck from your lips. "I promise...I swear on my soul I'll be the angel you need me to be. I'll be the one you can turn to when hell takes a toll and I'll be the one to soothe those aches. I'll do my best to stay worthy of you, my love. I do remember saying I needed to do ten of these rituals, didn't I? It seems we have about six more to go".

-Mommabean (I hope you liked! Comment if you want beans! I LOVED this prompt / idea! )

[angelyuji]

got any fiddleford trad!spousing us? idk

cw // implied noncon, pregnancy, religion

18+!! minors dni!!

hmmm see im not good with fiddleford but i def think that he'd be into housewife type life. he feels like a southern, traditional man, so i can see him convincing you to give up college to be his spouse and parent to his children. also if you can get pregnant, he's DEF getting you pregnant and being like "start taking online courses" "unenroll for the semester" "the stress isn't good for the baby :("

also if you're religious, trad!fidds would def use religion to manipulate you.

[ozzgin]

content: gender neutral reader, religious themes, blasphemy, NSFW, horror

Something is wrong with your beloved Angel, yet you cannot place the dreadful feeling in the depths of your stomach. Perhaps you weren't made to comprehend such divine truths.

5. Honour thy father and thy mother

It was birthed from the void of the Heavens. No parent governs over its will. No being controls its resolve.

Father...? The word rings and echoes across ancient times, forgotten eons. It does not remember its meaning. All it knows is you, and you are enough.

4. Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy

"Six days you shall labor, but the seventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord, your God." Of course. The law is clear, or at least it should be. Its mind navigates the meaning, suddenly engulfed by a mysterious haze.

Six days it labors, it serves, it worships. It exists for you, to please you and fulfill your desires. Your wish is its command.

Six days of creation. It has been molded just for you, to fit all the nooks and corners of your body and soul. You have taught it how to love, how to crave, how to need. It starves for your touch.

3. Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain

"Oh, God", you cry, clinging to the holy beast. It shivers in raw bliss, its many hands embracing your lewd body, drooling and panting in unquenchable desire. Its mind is possessed by one singular thought: to breed you, to own you, to fuck more profanities out of your pretty, little mouth.

The word swirls inside its head, baptized to a new sense: God is when you reach your peak, when you're within its voracious hold. Your trembling hands reach for the horns.

2. Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image

It yearns to create, to be the architect for once. Your home is littered in unfinished pieces: bizarre, geometrical paintings, abstract statues chiseled in most refined detail, music sheets of notes foreign to your human ears. All of them have something in common - it's how the Angel perceives you.

You fill up its senses, and the essence drips onto its works of art. It gathers the objects of worship together, like the outline of an altar, like an inviting chamber of prayer.

1 Thou shalt have no other gods before me

The abyssal creature bows before you, its many eyes devouring your form. The long, black claws reach out, like a beggar scraping its way out of the depths of ennui.

You're a blessing from the Heavens.

[Navigation] | [Ozztober Masterlist] | [First Half]

[threepandas]

Bad End, Eve: Part 2

Prev: <-

He had clothes for me. And It would not have been so unsettling, had they been less... precise. Less flattering. Fit less perfectly. But they DID. A sundress, in a flattering cut. A lovely color for my skin tone. The sort of thing a man who wore only variations of the same outfits? Day in and day out? Definitely researched.

At least I had fucking underwear now.

Even if I still couldn't move under my own power, farther then an inch or so.

He didn't even have the decency to dress me like a doll. Fondly but with some detachment. A bit of distance I could cling too. No, I was the paralyzed toddler, to be cradled and cooed over as he manhandled me. Praises as though I DONE anything. Kisses pressed to bio-gel wet hair and skin.

Weren't I SUCH a good girl? Letting him do as he pleases. Unable to stop him. Weak as the newborn I was. Fuck. The echoes of pain still howled along my near weeping nerve endings. Begging for rest. For the finest pain medication cocktails money can buy. Anything.

Instead I got this.

Clingy hands and the near bitter cold of a lab.

A lab coat was pulled onto me next. It didn't match my little dress up outfit. But? At least it was WARM. Thank god. Already, the goo was making my clothes stick to me. Sucking away my heat. Leaving my... my EVERYTHING feeling gross and sticky. I wanted a shower. Not to be dressed up.

But I had a feeling I wouldn't be getting what I wanted.

"There we are~ All nice and covered up. We'll get you cleaned up soon, sweetheart. Daddy promises." The madman who held me hummed. His face tucked against my gel filthy hair as his hand rubbed up and down my limp arm, as though trying to draw warmth to it. A mockery of caring. This was possession. "Now let's get out of here, hmm?"

Scooped up like a princess, I felt more like a toy too be carted around.

I was carried, for the first time, from the lab that had been all I'd known.

I wish he'd left me there. Forgotten I even existed. Instead, I got to see firsthand, EXACTLY what he had done. And... and I knew... KNEW that none of those dead around me were innocent. They all had hand in atrocities, either directly or by compliance. Inaction. But.... but did they deserve this? Indiscriminate execution?

He didn't even glance down, as he strolled through the carnage he had made.

Too the elevators, where he casually kicked the corpse blocking the door, out of the way, before steeping inside. We rode in near silence. Just me, him, and the corpses of three security gaurds and a scientist. He was humming. Soft but pleased, as though the day had turned out surprisingly well.

He had to rest me on a hood, when we reached the carpark. So he could dig out his keys. I was swept up again. Though not carried far. Fancy. Good to know being a morally bankrupt, weirdly clingy, DEEPLY fucking cracked, mad scientist pays well... I guess...

Placed down on another hood while he...

Are you kidding me?

With a near skip in his step, I watch as my "father" strolls to the trunk of his car. Pops it open. Pulls out a FUCKING KIT. An honest to God duffle bag. Several unopened plastic carseat covers. How... how LONG has he been PLANNING this?!

Numbly, I watch as he preps his front seat for me. Both protecting the upholstery while somehow making an honest to God nest of comfort for his little passenger princess. There are layers. The motions look practiced. I... I feel like I'm in a fever dream.

He does realize I'm technically a science experiment, right?

We are... for lack of a better plot device, absconding in the night? He's not PICKING ME UP FROM THE HOSPITAL. He's kidnapping me! Stealing me!! What the ACTUAL FUCK?!

I don't ask. Know BETTER then to ask. I remember that much. You don't argue with crazy. You smile, nod, and quietly get the FUCK out of there at the first possible chance. Placate don't escalate. If the madman wants to play "happy family"? Suuuuuure, "Daddy". Of COURSE.

That's EXACTLY what'll do...

You know, right up until I can fucking RUN again.

Then peace out, bitchcakes. You can take your nuttypuffs and SHOVE IT. I am sore, cold, and YOU are the one who kept pumping me full of drugs! They HURT. A LOT. I know for a FACT the world's probably gonna end. In that weirdly symbolic anime way, where there's giant hands and faces or whatever, so? Screw you!

Noooooot that I SAY that.

Because, again, we do not provoke the crazy man with a gun.

And a PLAN apparently. Dooooon't LIKE that he has "A Plan". In fact, would Prefer Not. But I'm not getting what I want today. I'm getting lifted and put, like a precious if sickly child, into the little car nest he's made for me and tucked in. Watching as he rounds the car to slide protectors over his own seat as well.

Well... at least he's self AWARE of all the blood.

He starts the car. Turns on the heater, a few taps of the console screen has music beginning to play and my seat leaning back. He leans over to grab my seat belt, as though this were all perfectly normal, pressing a soft kiss to my temple as he gets me situated.

There are straight jackets less containing.

I am trapped. Bundled by blankets, wrapped and pressed in on all sides, pillows and fancy little comforts I never wanted or asked for. All to then be strapped down by a seat belt I can't even REACH.

Great.

Just... Great.

He leaves the car running. Keys hanging, tormenting me really, in the ignition. If only I could FUCKING MOVE. I watch as he gets out. Walks back towards the elevator. He seems to think we apparently have all the time in the world. And really, according to time on the console? We kinda fucking DO.

It's barely mid-day.

Not... not even lunch.

Somehow that makes it worse. It shouldn't. I know it shouldn't. Death and massacre can happen at any time. But... the fact that he so cheerfully killed each and every one of his co-workers? Massacred everyone in the fucking building but me? In broad daylight? Makes it... worse.

It feels like the sort of horror that should only happen during dark, moonless, nights. Someplace dark. Where you expect the wickedness of man against man, the inhumanity of so called civilized people. Not... daylight. Beneath the cheerful rays under which children play and people fall in love, life bustles around. It should be for LIVING.

It's a bias.

A naive thought.

Foolish of me to hold...

And yet? I still had it. Still found myself shocked. Guess I can be glad? That my innocence has not been COMPLETELY lost to this place. That there is still good in me. I seem to still assume the best of people, foolish as that is. How very dangerous.

My "father" is back. Wheeling boxes and boxes of hard drives. Lock boxes of things unknown. First the trunk, then the back seat. The car is stuffed. Every secret this place ever held it seemed. He's talking them. His grin has teeth. Is giddy and MEAN.

Looting the corpses of his enemies agrees with him, it seems.

The last trip is for his briefcase. A small pile of file folders. He's nearly dancing. Does a little twirl as he passes the front of the car, a slide to reach the door. Humming a showtime I don't recognize.

"Ah~ I've waited for this moment for YEARS~! Ha Ha!" Teeth flash and catch the low light of the carpark's emergency lighting, his eyes practically glow with a manic schadenfreude. "Oh my sweet Eve, you have NO idea how much I've been looking forward to the day I get to steal you away~ BURN this cesspit to the ground. And best of all? Finally get my hands on all this research! Put it to actual USE for once! No more filthy Adams. No more trying to fix the worthless and damned! Just us. Just Eden."

Well THATS not fucking ominou-...

Wait.

WHAT.

Eden. As in EDEN Eden? End game Eden? Super mega doom project Eden? Seemly perfect garden of bliss build upon horrors, that you think have to face Plot Relevant, "get one of several endings", Moral Quandary EDEN??? THAT ONE!? Oh, MOTHER FUCKER. Please tell me Crazy Daddy Pants isn't one of the Architects of the apocalypse.

I do NOT want to be ground zero for that. NOR in the Protagonist's way!

He buckles up. Pulls out of his spot. Casual as anything. The world is blinding, after a life spent inside. A depressing cyberpunk hellcity crowds the world around us. Somehow both choking the world of all color, even as it splashes itself with gaudy and neon like some sort of radioactive oil spill.

Clambering over each other like a bucket of crabs, dragging everyone else down as they claw at what's left of the sky.

A full city of Babel.

Yet? Even as I remember, lay witness, to this oh so familiar set dressing? Limp in my creator's car, as he drives. Smoothly navigating chaotic traffic worse then anything I could ever remember? My mind was faster then it had been. Processed information FASTER then I could ever have imagined.

I... I experienced time differently, I think.

It was... flexible? Slowing and speeding, depending on if I... not "concentrated"? But "payed attention"? I guess? Wanted to know. It felt almost like flexing something, yet there was no... flexing? Feeling? It was strange.

Yet...

Yet, with it...

I SAW.

A food cart. Owner sneaking a bedraggled man a few extra peice when he glanced away. Young parents, swinging their child between them. He is the center of their world. A first date. They are both widows, old grief still clings, but cautiously... they are ready to try again. There is SO MUCH. Lives and lives and LIVES.

The city is ugly, cruel, but the people are not.

They are not props in someone else's play.

The traffic dies off, as we get closer and closer to opulence. As brutalism shifts to a blend of art nouveau and art deco. Bits of greenery, kept like trophies to be displayed. I am somehow... unsurprised, when my creator pulls us into the garage of one of the more expensive but barren looking houses.

It is the sort of place that makes show room's seem warm.

Because, at least, show rooms TRY to mimic hospitality and warmth. A lived in quality. They, at least, SUGGEST that the dwelling they represent could one day be a home. This? This place hold no such illusions. This house would prefer itself to be a lab. Be left alone. The walls somehow radiating a disgust of you.

It is unbearably cold.

Scooped up again. The blankets have dried against my skin in places. So he merely takes them with, rather then (apparently) risk my poor hyper durable yet still sensitive skin. He's made me a living tank. Through agony after agony, day by day, yet NOW? Now I am treated like spun glass.

Carried into the house... and God, in the GARAGE was bad? This is somehow worse. I feel like tracking in a single speck of dirt would somehow get me treated to a summary execution. Literally. That nothing resides here but nutrient paste and room temperature, triple filtered water. A place where the color beige is treading dangerously close to being "too much".

Isn't this a form of torture? I'm pretty sure this was a form of torture, locking people in rooms designed like this.

Up the stairs, down a near barren hallway. The paintings probably came the house. They scream "generic and inoffensive". Where are we..? WHY are we going to the master bedroom? I do not WANT to be alone in a bedroom with you, my dude. Shit. FUCK!

I wriggle. I can twitch my feet a bit more now, but not by much.

"Shhhh, my perfection, I know. Being so filthy must be unbearable. But don't worry, Daddy's here. We're almost there." He croons at me, almost in the exact tone one uses to sooth a fussy toddler. I pray to God this isn't a sex thing. It's already weird, I don't know HOW weird I can tolerate before I snap. "Daddy's gonna get you all cleaned up, okay? Then you can take a nap while he pack everything to go. We're going on a little road trip to our new home. Growing girls need clean air and flowers, after all."

Oooooh fuck.

Fuck, he DOES plan to take me to Eden.

Ooooh ho hooo, I am gonna DIE die. Like... super mega death. Class A with sparkles Death. Eden is a seemingly utopian dream garden. A cottage core painting brought to life. Problem is? It's built on the back of endless suffering. Cruelty and blood, atrocity and hell itself made real.

You could like in heaven... so long as you ignored what it cost others.

Destroying Eden is what triggers the Apocalypse. Because it's BUILT INTO THE PLANET. Like a massive tumor. A parasite. Killing an already dying world even FASTER. But? Again. If you wanted to get YOURS and damn the rest? Beautiful beyond measure.

His bathroom is exactly the sort of rich person nonsense I expected from a house this size. Too much space. I get set down on a bench. Because THAT'S normal to just.. fucking have. How the hell does it not MOLD? No, wait, concentrate. I do NOT want this man bathing me! Yes, he's seen me naked. A lot. But that wasn't touching! No touchy!

He comes back with a pitcher.

And I discover that I am saved. Bio-gel is incredibly water soluble. He pours water over where the blankets stick to me to free me. Has removed his shoes and watch. Everything, really, that can't afford to get wet. I find out why? When he carries me straight into a walk in shower.

Fully dressed.

....at least he's respecting my boundaries?

Never VOICED them, though. So I have no idea what this is. Washing off the blood maybe? We don't stay long. Or, rather, I don't stay long. Just long enough to remove most of the gel. Then I am swept off to a fancy jacuzzi tub. Oooooh, bubbles. Warm water. Warm and comfy, massaging wat jet lined seat. Blergle....

I think my brain is melting out.

Waaaarm soup. Bubbles. Cook my muscles until I am noodle. Leave me, I wanna die here.

I am utterly blissed out. Boneless. No longer even TRYING to keep track of my surroundings. The indulgent chuckle from above me? Should probably worry about that. But on the OTHER hand... what if I just continued to doze off, here, in what is clearly heaven's water filled embrace? Hands gather my hair. Gently begin to work what smells like fancy shampoo into it.

Spa day?

My sleepy brain says it's probably spa day or something. This is nice~

By the time everything is done, my limbs are heavy and boneless. Relaxed. At least, I'm PRETTY sure that's why I can't move so good. Mmmm, sleepy. Warm now. I list to the side, only to be caught gently. The guy helping me, helps me change. Comfy new clothes. Hair ready for sleep. Even carries me to a big ol bed. Tucks me in. How nice...

I'm forgetting something...

Feels important. But I'm TIRED. I'll deal with it in the morning.

"Ah~ my perfect girl, I can't wait to give you EVERYTHING." Whispers a voice, like a confession, before a kiss is pressed to my temple. "You were made to be loved. Adored. The perfect child meant for a perfect world. I can not wait to finally bring you HOME. God's mistake was making Adam."

"All I need, is Eve."

[weebsinstash]

my cat Allister: *sneezes with his perfect little baby mouth*

me: bless you Allister ^^

me:

me:

me: don't think of nun alastor, don't think of priest alastor, don't think of him succumbing to sin and dragging you into the confessional, don't think about some weird religious AU where Vox and Alastor run the creepy cult church down the street and they're always beckoning you as their favorite little nonbeliever to come in and get railed "preach the gospel" with them, don't--

[melodicmelancholia]

[empydoc]

a little controversial i need yandere caller like a catholic needs the bible

[unhappytimeleaper]

Character analysis; main concepts

A lot of this references some hints to lore and stuff I found. Not a lot are direct spoilers, but since Venti is built on his vagueness to his past, this likely will be able to be subject to change as time goes on.

Also, I wasn't sure if I asked if anyone would reply to whom to pick for my analysis. I asked some friends on a Yandere discord server, and in passing, one of them mentioned Venti, so I just went with it. Shout out to them. I hate making decisions. And leaper lore, but Venti is the reason I got into Genshin, so I guess it's fitting he is first.

Anyway, that means sending who I should do next. I'd prefer to space Genshin characters out, but anyone on my lists can be requested, as well as general requests being open.

The final quick personal note is I wanted to thank everyone for the 150 followers. I know it's not a lot, but I am thankful for the handful I know have been around for a while and for those who have considered following; Tumblr and most other SNS are rough for creators as reblog ratios are so low and other issues, but I am very grateful for those who keep coming back.

Venti [Barbatos]; Unedited. Gender neutral reader. Part 1 of 3

Warnings; yandere!! It touches on every main category of the troupe, so if you are sensitive to manipulation [emotional and mental], alcoholism, codependency, guilt [even self-imposed], obsession, lying, stalking, some general creepy behavior, breaking and entering, possessiveness, delusional thoughts, unwanted touching [sfw], and anything else you can think of being related to yandere troupes, then it's best to just not read. Also, a massive warning for talks about religion, idolization in the 'church,' and abuse of power within religious settings.

Word Count: 8.4K

This blog is 17+ please have your age in your bio or tagged; any ageless blog and below the age asked for will be blocked at the end of the week.

Maxed Stats

General manipulation

As a key component, Venti is a general trickster; he comes naturally with the skills of forgery, fabrication, pilfering, and illusion-making. These tools under his control make him naturally an enigma but build into easy traits of manipulation as he needs not just to you but to anyone. And for an early establishment, Venti's natural manipulation is not just tied to these specific skills. Still, it almost comes coded into how he exists as more of himself is revealed. Though these particular skills of lying are much harder to pick up on, between the riddles of his words and decent, innocent appearance, it's easy for him to pull off a twist of words or lie his way out of a situation.

As pointed out, manipulation is a skill that Venti can best use against anyone. To you, he is likely able to find excuses to keep up his actions. Outside of the wall of Mondstadt, he can quickly find reasonings as to why he's there, too. More often than not, he's somewhere close. While in areas like Windwail and Brightcrown, he can stay hidden, only needing to reveal himself if you find yourself in trouble, in regions like Starfell and Galesong, you can often see him not too far off in the distance. Even if you doubt his reasoning, it's hard to find proof of his stalking, making the moments unsettling, but his cuteness and way of words make it hard to get upset. Guilt festers as he looks so sad with accusations of something more sinister and that he has ulterior motives. Or how within the walls Venti is quick to find you and cling on, either in close proximity of walking or physically bound to you somehow— it's easy to tell when he's been drinking as he tends to be much more touchy in those moments. While it takes a lot for him to truly get drunk, he likes to play it up as there are so many more benefits and things you let slide. You have to take care of him in some way, and he always has a reason to be around longer.

In cases of late nights together, Venti sometimes lets you feel as if you have the upper hand, too. Pretending to be more drunk than he is and more open, allowing you to handle your chance at burning questions as he wistfully gives answers. Often, they are still vague but do let you delve more into his past, the trauma he has endured, or the loneliness that has come into his life. The more you learn, the more guilt grows at the idea of rejecting him. Of leaving Mondstadt in favor of exploration or answers. It's also not one where everything he shares is a goal of manipulating these feelings or actions.

Venti's love is absolute; for that, he wants to share what he can, with his goal of being bound to you, which means sharing these personal moments. For him, learning about you is so much easier with his status and age. Still, you can seldom learn about him in the same way, even more, as he can't fully spill his guts about his past at a moment's notice. However, he can think of this as an added benefit; manipulation, even if it's not the goal, is still emotional manipulation.

These times, there often are levels of manipulation about other places and people he puts in place. Different regions and gods aren't free from their past either, and Venti is known to share moments of these in his riddles. Aspects of how the lands have changed, how they have changed, but the imposing struggles carry through their lands. It's not really shit-talking them, nor a full-on slander campaign, but the language and words he uses are often dulled in favorability of what they could be. Similarly, he might often find ways to weave in things that could cause greater fear in you to manipulate you into thinking you are much too weak for the creatures that lurk there. While some parts you can chalk up to his story-telling nature and that by making it more dramatic, it sounds better, there often is a growing uneasiness about how vicious parts it could really be. More than countless times, there have been moments of your own danger, only saved by the grace of the wind and Venti nearby… In contrast, he speaks of Mondstadt and its people much more positively, and while he has some jealousy of those in his region you gain closeness with, he also tends to have a much more positive relationship with them, allowing those to be better tools to help in his love life than those in say Sumeru or Inazuma. He tends to maybe add in some more lighthearted jabs that can have an air of jealousy in them, even more if Venti feels you've been around them a lot recently, but in the way he talks, it often is more of playful bad-mouthing than down right insults.

As touched on, Venti's manipulation of you isn't always intended or done with negative goals. One side of this is again linked generally to how he speaks. Being this enigmatic person whose words are always wistful and hold more profound meaning, there is a natural draw to learn more. It's only made more of something that is hook when he doesn't often go around sharing this self-lore to someone so known but distant in Mondstadt to just anyone. It's almost like a balloon or bubble; the hints that are added build up little by little as time goes on without seeking out Venti for more until it pops. A droplet of information at a time until it consumes your mind, going back looking for more details to answers to the questions you'd had running in your mind for days. Soon enough, you are the one asking where the mysterious bard is to the townspeople, only cementing more in their minds the nature of your relationship being more than platonic. It also, again, just makes you feel special, a self-imposed superiority that you are the person who knows him best [which this ego can be inflated more if you know him as barbatos as well]. Venti knows these actions are manipulative in a sense, and again. At the same time, it doesn't truly harm anyone; it's still manipulation at its core in building this unique reliance on him.

And Venti's manipulation is ever present in the town and the people of Mondstadt. The key ways he uses these are to get more information about you and, as usual, get away with things. However, as briefly stated, Venti uses the wind and himself as a factor in starting rumors that there is naturally more to what is happening between you that can be exploited for later use. But back to the first point, Venti is able to once again use his 'charm' and way of speaking to easily coax others to give out more information about you. He literally likes things about your past, interests, personal relationships with others, likes, dislikes, and such through his friendly demeanor and guiding the conversations. And while he can easily track and monitor you through the wind, by talking to others around and having them tell him where you are, it helps set up a close alibi if you were to question him later. Essentially, in this case, the guards and townpeople become effective scapegoats for his stalking if needed. Furthermore, these questions end up helping intensify any rumors as the questions, over time, can become more and more romantic.

His manipulation does also be a benefit as he really is one with the people, if not distant in details. By having personal connections to groups like people in the Adventure's Guild and Knights of Favonius through people like Jean & Kaeya, they easily can be tools to help with his… well, propaganda. Even the temple with Rosaria. You ask about traveling and other nations to people in the Adventure's Guild, and they tend to often only share more gruesome or darker aspects of their stories. Of have plenty of tragedy by the time they reach the 'positive goal' that it's a natural persuasion to not want to often venture too far outside of Mondstadt. Or say you are one to leave; Venti could use points of manipulation he's built to have, say, Rosaria or Kaeya go with you, depending on where. The wind can always join you, but Venti isn't up and one to fully be able to run off from Mondstadt for long periods of time. If you plan to go on just a trip for travel, it's one thing for him to run off and join you, but freedom itself in Mondstadt is unique. It's not necessarily true freedom, and while he's awake with a purpose, he can't in his heart run from Mondstadt to travel with you. And while he'd be able to do anything in his power to persuade you to not leave, he's one to physically force it unless you're genuinely trying to run off for something dangerous. However, if someone else were to go. Friends of you and Venti… you'd have to come back, right? Kaeya can't leave his post forever, and it was him who accompanied you for this task, so it would be unfair to go on alone and not see him back… Yes, through others, you'd always be lured… guilted into returning home to him eventually.

Manipulation is also used here in more of a test; he does this often with people but imposes an idea or thing involving you. Those he wants to use in a way of getting close, he bluffs some lies out, and their reaction or steps they handle in regards usually is how he tests to see if they are reliable in what he needs. It's nothing extreme, but it's best to know if he can trust their feelings and opinions on you before letting you get too close. If they fail, well, a little bending of the truth to make it so neither of you wants to interact and never really hurt anyone.

This all helps build into how appearance tends to help. Not only for the general public but even for you, as his boyish charm and looks naturally tend to frame him as innocent. People are quick to brush off his questions even if they progressively get more concerned as 'puppy love' or that it's simply 'too cute' to see the young love from the bard. Many might even favor this as they see it as him likely being willing to turn a new leaf and grow into something worth settling down [i.e., get a job and place to live, though really, instead, it grows more into him crashing at your home and still playing song for whatever he can— money or alcohol]. His verbal actions are easily brushed off, but even the physical side of things, too. Pilfering is a great talent of his, but when caught with your items or breaking in when you're out, he tends to be pushed aside if he plays up his demeanor and lies. Scolded with warnings, sure, but scratching his head and sighing with a 'promise I won't do it again' tends to get everyone to roll their eyes and back off. As mentioned, his appearance can even present him as harmless to you; if someone brings it up, you might also awkwardly laugh and brush off the events. It's just Venti being Venti. He truly is primarily harmless, and he's stayed over so much at this point him breaking in was likely just a result of a habit of being in there…

And the limits of manipulation can be pushed if he so chooses. Call it divine intervention, more or less cause while he does so more with a dirty conscience, he can be driven as Barbatos to truly step in. Religious intervention. It seems weird when the Church of Favonius suddenly comes in contact with some old documents, ones with never seen details of an old love interest to their beloved god. The news and rumors sweep the nation, and even weirder, most of the details and notes recount someone… like you. Things seemed to get stranger, and from there, only more documents could be found of this exact figure appearing throughout history, like some sort of reincarnation. The fascination of it all quickly became the center of the topic, and with the likeness you bared in the story and aspects of appearance, you're status seemed to shoot up within the night. Not so much a holy figure but deemed with some strange uplighting in the way people spoke. That is, or how Barbatos ever seemed to come back to Mondstadt, you'd need to be there just like how the past reminisced. For those who do know, it weirdly only pushes you away from them if you ever seek help, that that story must be bound to fate, and that Venti can't be as much of a nuisance if you give it time. The problem is only dug in worse as Venti creates poems and ballads of the sort, claiming he actually had heard of these but never sought to share them until now. As the stories grow, you're pushed more and more to the church with the idea of gaining barbatos' favor and attention. Leaving… just became much more complex.

Dependence [reversed]

Dependence comes in a weird form, at least compared to others. While in general fashion, dependence typically is the idea that they want you to solely rely on them for everything, not only for power and love, it can even be with money, housing, or other necessities. While Venti likely would be much more dependent on him being really the main source of your love and affection, the rest… he doesn't care so much about. Power may be a little; he doesn't need or want you to depend on him for it, but it does give him a little ego boost when you have to or ask him. And too many other aspects of actual dependence go against aspects of his belief in freedom. Venti's course of manipulation never truly prohibits your own freedom; again, less you actively seek to do something he knows poses a threat; it just often forces you to rethink and become more hesitant in actions or thoughts.

As for other forms of dependence, well, Venti doesn't have them. He steals, only really eats apples, to your knowledge, and is homeless. It's quite pitiful in a humorous way. However, as you get closer and bond more with the bard-friendly nature, it is hard for you to let him live like this. Well, in certain ways, stealing alcohol or bribing others to give him some with songs you can't really stop unless you plan on going bankrupt. But more frequently, you invite him for meals and shelter him in your place. Even more frequently if the weather is bad or as winter approaches. Venti isn't manipulating you necessarily into these tasks, but dependence some with a factor of self-guilt. He's your friend, someone you've gotten close with, and with that, he's come to truly rely on you for these things. He was fine in the past, but to leave for who knows how long and let him fall back into such a life would make you a bad person. Right?

Logically, Venti knows he doesn't need to depend on you for these things as they don't have any real effect on his life, but it's so domestic. He gets access to all your items; you put time and love into meals, or even sharing what you purchased from Good Hunter fills him with warmth. On cold nights, he finds it easier to slip under your blankets and, even if it's fake, pretend to sleep like how couples would. Being a god comes with a lot of good but a lonely life, and after seeing so many, there comes a time when it's nice to indulge in it. Gluttony has always been a crime of his, it seems, such as with alcohol, but this also can't be that bad if no one is getting hurt. So just let him depend on you a little longer. At least until he can find out some solution before he sleeps again.

Self Harm

Similar to dependency on basic things, one form of manipulation that Venti doesn't do on purpose but knows that there still is a benefit to his actions is his indulgence in drinking. While it takes a lot for him to truly get drunk, as noted, he does like to play it up for you, and it's not uncommon for you to have to take care of him or come help him. In all sense, Venti, while not necessarily drunk, is an alcoholic, and to a detriment, it is a form of self-harm. Through learning more and hearing the tales and songs of his past, it's apparent the wounds run deep, and Venti's only way he knows to deal with them is through drinking in an attempt to numb or forget. The reality of knowing this is hard; you see it with others you've likely gained closeness with and how drinking has affected the lives of so many.

This leads to two outcomes: this, again, guilt that breeds when thinking of leaving. The connection Venti has formed is tangible with how deep it is to you, even if you don't reciprocate in that way. That's if you were to leave, would things only get worse with his drinking problem? Unlikely, he would died from drinking, but it's more than just drinking; it's the mental state of him in that position and how the loss of more people would rip the wound open even more. Furthering, if you had actually spent time talking about his past and working to unpack and find better ways to cope with the trauma outside of alcoholism, leaving would be a dick move and revert all that progress no matter how you explained it. How much could you're conscious take knowing this? How far could you make it without the guilt of him back home as the stories of his past cloud your mind? The wind tickling your skin and almost like a whisper reminding you of it. It's one thing to share a drink or two with the bard and have a fun night in the tavern, listening to his songs and dancing. It's another to picture him alone under a tree, empty bottles scattered from stealing from him alone, reminiscing about his lost friend and the imagery of war. The wind gets colder, licking the back of your neck, and the guilt is painful, ready to burst out your chest for even thinking of it. Some wounds you cannot heal, but the idea of making them worst or abandoning the person who's come to need you most is mentally crippling.

General obsessiveness

Venti doesn't necessarily read as obsessive. Not outwardly, at least, though it's easy to blame his charm for that. Okay… well, maybe not charm, but within his manipulative nature and looks, his actions and questions regarding you don't play as obsessive to those who listen. It's unlike many others who you can just look at them and feel in your bone there is something off, or in how they speak, they care just a little too hard. His sharp tongue and trick of words allow people to very easily give up information without thoroughly having them aware they have, making his tendencies go far under the general public's radar still. And for those who do somewhat witness it, he doesn't mind playing up his role a little more. Just a young, helpless bard looking to woo someone. It isn't a crime, right?

The mask he wears holds many layers. The bard, the god, the lost wind. Not many will ever get a look at what really goes on and what is an exaggeration. Or under exaggeration when it comes to you. In most cases, Venti stretches his stories up, his words riddled and larger than life that people have to dim down to work out the true meaning. So when he sells his obsessive love as much less, people are quick to brush it off or dim it down further to avoid those actual layers of emotions being peeled forward.

A chunk of this also extends to the shame and questions it brings out of freedom. Venti has never tried to take it away in a solid way, but is it true freedom to either of you when you fill so much of his thoughts that you can't really do anything without him? It is the thought that replays and replays of you and him doing things; it's the obsessive nature of having to know where you are, who you're with, and what you're doing. Are you safe? Are you planning on leaving? Should he come to find you just to be sure?

What about the images. The visions he remembers from the wars, from the people he's lost, and that truly, at any time, perhaps something will happen, and you'll be next. The flashes of violence and fear that only make the goal of getting his next drink to numb them go away— or you. The sight of you, the smell of you. Having you hold him and remind him that the past is gone.

You'd be able to see it, maybe not the full extent, but you've come to know the bard enough to tell when the cogs in his mind are turning and the way he tries to drown out aspects of himself. It's hard to tell what he's thinking, but you know some of it is tied to the past as he holds the stolen wine in one hand and grips you so tightly with the other as you try to stumble back to your home and out of sight. You can tell something is off when he's snooping through your things early in the morning as you're just waking up and when he's clearly been inside your place while you were out with a friend. Or that he's been leaving more and more questionable lyrics? No, less like poems or lyrics but ramblings about love and fear and what can only be aspects of you on the counter as he runs around god knows where. It's worrying. It's uncomfortable to an extent, but not enough or in a way that you can just cut him off. Kick him out. Maybe just talking or setting a little break, but the pressure in your chest and bile in your throat at the thought of cutting contact brings you to a sobbing mess each time.

But, what does keep him from being fully obsessive is that Venti still has things to do. Freedom of Mondstadt and giving up his title as the god doesn't mean he's abandoned his role truly, and if he's awake, that means between drinking, being with friends, telling stories, and everything about you, there is something he has to do. He still is out fulfilling a duty no one, but he knows of, and really, part of that seems more scary than anything he's done to you. You know he'd never hurt you; it's not a fear of that, but as Venti opens up more to you, the parts he still keeps hidden remind you that this is only a fraction of what you know. Guess it's good that you still have some time and space to yourself, but as obsessive as he is in his thoughts and other flaws, he can dial it back if needed for a short amount of time. At least from your perspective.

Wrong idea; type 2

In a sense, Venti is give an inch; he'll take a mile. Like a stray cat. You feed him once he keeps coming back for more. One thing is that this wrong idea can start more slowly, but the second you mess up and do something more romantically affectionate, it instantly becomes much more intense in the progression of what he's willing to take or do.

As mentioned, for anything to start, you need to be at least on a friendship level basis with Venti, and a sorta higher level of one. Nothing extreme, but the type of friends who do spend a considerable amount of time together and, for example, willing to open your house to him to stay in occasionally. Not even in a 'stay in the same bed' type way, but he knows aspects of your personal life, and to a level, you learn more of his 'Venti' side for any of his traits to really start manifest. However, it is already very easy to set off more and delve into the realm of leading him into the wrong idea territory.

Some ideas of how this might be are such as gaining more physical contact. While the intent is friendly, Venti is from a different time, and being touchy already seems less common than you already have a 'flirty' aptitude. Grabbing his arm or hanging off of him when sober makes his heart flutter that there could be more. Certain gifts, flowers, or making uniquely special foods just for him. Not just any meal, that's normal, but if you were to make something sweet with apples that wasn't a typical dish, it leads his heart to beat just a little harder. Or that one time when he did stay over and you fell asleep holding onto him rather than the usual routine of wandering off to your own spot after putting a drunk Venti 'to sleep.' You must have been exhausted… but this is his first time really getting to see you up close.

You must be doing all this with some… ulterior motive. Sure, he's heard of courting; he's older than people think and knows more of the ins and outs of things. People treat him like someone far more innocent by these looks— not just with drinking. And yeah, it comes in handy sometimes, but not when people talk down to him about this. At first, there was some apprehension. Teyvat was in a dangerous time, and as carefree as he plays himself up, he's always guarded about his next move.

Obsessiveness starts more simple. His questions are more of curiosity about many things, and what is better than to trick it out of people and you. Sure, he knows most basic things of your life, but that couldn't mean you aren't linked to more questionable things and had figured out he was Barbatos, either. He comes off a nosey at best. When digging to see if you'd ever been caught doing 'bad things' most inform sure— but in the sense you had been a kid and teen once. You'd easily gotten into trouble more than a few times but never was it for anything imminent or serious. He digs more into the lineage of your family and the other people you associate with. Nothing strange… fine, but perhaps a different route. He remembers some old common courting techniques, and he's seen some of them in this era, too. He's not blind to it, but as he shares more of the details, the more people tell the 'young' bard. It's probably a hint that he should reciprocate. I mean, he already hangs off of you like a hangover anyway. It's surprising he isn't already attached at your hip with how much you both sort of rely on each other. Although you tend to treat him more as a companion than him, he depends on you like a leech.

And the switch flips.

In certain aspects, if you did have some sort of crush, it likely would melt away with how quick his obsessively wrong idea notion takes over. What was harmless flirting testing the waters is instantly blown into a large scale. Even if you didn't like him in that way and other signs were one of platonic closeness or accidents, it doesn't seem to make a difference. His touchiness is insatiable, and the amount of time he starts demanding you spend with him is much more intense. If you try to brush him off, his poutiness damps the air, and things just an uneasy tingle. You find him trying to make all sorts of snacks and now haggling not just for drinks but for gifts. Every story he tells, every song he sings, and every poem has some romantic undertones that, paired with former questions and actions, people know it is about you. And the stalking doesn't help.

Venti's turning point makes him feel like there is more and that there could be more. He's not fully delusional. There are aspects of a lucid point that you're pulling away, but that just means he needs to try harder, right? He's seen so many relationships go like that. If you stop trying, if you let them pull away, that's really how you lose them. It's obvious how much time he puts into this, how much he thinks about how to move forward, and how he can use things like his skill sets of manipulation to keep you bound to him [not literally but in a figurative state]. However, it is only time before you get worn down from trying to fight and redirect… adapting does become just so much easier. Conversations, trying to explain, just don't seem to reach him. Lucid and all, you can't understand him or his goals anymore, and even when he does calm down back into a slight breeze, the second you give him a bit of that former closeness back, it picks back into a blustery.

Stalking

While Venti's stalking habits have mostly been pointed out, there is one other big thing that needs to be recognized. Sure, in Mondstadt and the borders of other regions, he often can find himself about to sneak away and physically follow you around for extended periods of time [days, weeks, etc.]; what happens if you leave. Of course, Venti can easily manipulate others to go with you as a safety net and use it to get you back home, but things are rough when you're gone. Luckily, or to your dismay, you aren't ever really alone as the wind follows you. No matter how far you go, how pleasant the weather is, or how rough the wind is a constant companion following in your wake. It's often a nice breeze, though it picks up a significant amount if you're nearing danger or in danger. Though a strange pattern of it picks up when you spend a little too long talking with locals…

Yes, the wind itself can't do much, but its following reminds you of your faithful companion back home, the one you'll have to eventually return to. And while 'freedom' is given, it's never truly 'free' as the wind follows far and wide until you come back to your love.

Final [unique]

Where final comes in is related more to Venti's 'sleep.' From the context, it seems Venti has less control over when he sleeps and for how long. It's not that he chooses to abandon his land in the time. It's that he cannot fight when he goes into his slumbering state. For hundreds of years, and the times he wakes up are only that when there is something of great importance. This wouldn't be much of a problem before you— Mondstadt was given their freedom, and it was just how it was. He awoke, he came, he helped, and he left; nothing more or less.

However, he had been awake for longer than usual. There was something, even outside of you, that had brewing. Something deeply important kept him awake, even if he didn't know what. And he established a life. A true life this time, with friends in the taverns and everyday 'enemies' with his habits. He found a 'job' and a 'home' within his city as one of the people. And he fell in love. It's one thing to become intrinsically a part of an environment, and even if you don't feel the same way, have that connection knowing any moment it could be lost. To go back into a long-standing sleep with every person, even facet of that life is potentially gone when you are to wake up again. To lose that loved one to time.

Venti has lost so much, each person he's established a bond with passing or having to move on to more incredible things. When he awakes, everything is different; every person is mostly a new face, with few exceptions of those only being a few like him. Is it wrong for love to be so fragile when he knows the change of fate of it being lost is greater than the reward? That if he were to fall asleep, you would easily be able to move on. Find someone new, forget about him, or at least be nothing more than a distant memory. He knows other types of love can be platonic, that the affection you give to the city kids isn't the same, or the way you play with the cats as he watches from a distance. He knows that when he sees the couples in Mondstadt, he's supposed to be happy for them, and imagine if it was you two rather than have the breeze pick up ruining their outing. That he shouldn't be this jealous or bitter; it's unsuiting of his persona, but how else are you supposed to know when love is useless if not with you, the one person he could so quickly lose. When you're not around, this gets worse. Celestia, be damned if he were to fall asleep without at least getting to see you one more time.

This acknowledgment does considerably bring out more of his obsessive nature, almost like paranoia, but in a way that no one can quite place. That he needs to have knowledge of where you are and how long you've been gone, or that he needs to be with you to make up for the time. The obsession leaks into you're time together; since he doesn't need sleep, he'll just lay there watching you. Hands sometimes ghost your face as he pulls you close, worrying about if he can't save you if he were to suddenly fall back asleep tomorrow and never see you again. It's the way sometimes he grips your arm a little too tightly and breathes in too deeply when hugging. That he needs to find a solution to keep you immortal so if he does sleep, you'll still be there when he awakes, or even better, you can sleep with him [and awake] at the same time. You'd never have to be alone, he'd never have to be alone. And sure, it's a stretch, but it's not a loss of freedom because once awake, you can still go anywhere you want together, and even with this idea, you still have full mental awareness and control over your mind.

General Delusional [unique]

Venti isn't delusional. His perceptiveness to things around him and his need to protect himself, plus his lifetime, has made him more or less hyperaware of things and life around him. He hears the prayers of people and the lives of others, and being lucid/logical is simply a must for that of a god. But he hears the prays, he hears the others speak, and he yearns in a sense to be able to have the luxury of being delusional. Of just being able to let everything go and pretend things are good or that you like him back in that way. It sounds nice. Easy. To be able to imagine your life together as some fantasy story, he's the knight who'd come and save you and live happily ever after.

Scratch that. barbatos isn't delusional, but Venti can be. The mask, the person he's playing can be. He isn't just a storywriter; he's a storyteller. An actor, a character of his identity. So no, deep down, he knows the truth; he's extremely aware of that, but why not just play the part. Let him play as if he was lost in those delusions and that whatever it is can be that way. When you're cooking dinner for each other, Venti knows you're just making a meal as always, but why not play it up. That you're coupled and that this is making a meal together as a such— it was a little weird when he came over to help, but you didn't question it. At least he was doing something. But meal times together when he would help progressed weirdly. Putting his arms around you as you try to cut things, holding out utensils for you to try things on. It got very strange the one time when baking, he leaned over and licked a crumb off your face. You didn't bake for a while after that.

Or going out. What once was normal progressed into him inching closer and closer, then hands briefly touching. You didn't think much. It's the bard unless your Diluc. He's been pretty much harmless around the city. You think. So what if he was one to try to hold hands or brush arms that just matched his bubbly personality. Though the linking of arms and leaning into when waking, staring into your eyes with such affection did change things a lot.

It's nothing more than a role, or sort of game to Venti. The delusion is there, but it is more like oil sitting on top of water. He can turn it off at any moment, but where is the fun in that when everything in his life is so serious. With you, it's easier to just pretend. At least he still has all the control and lucidity of the problems when needed.

Projection

This has been touched on already, but to relate it back, Venti isn't so much delusional in the sense he believes it's real but that if he projects the message hard enough through stories, through songs, and to the people of Teyvat that you're together then in some way, that will be true. The projection of his words he knows are false, and he knows in some way, even if it isn't true, that if a story is spread enough, people take it as fact. And if everyone takes it as fact, then it's just easier for you to accept it as well. He really doesn't have to do anything to force you. It's not taking away anything. It's just altering it so that way things work out in his favor. Much like the general sense, it pairs as well. If he tells himself it's true, perhaps he can force that delusion to cloud the lucidity he feels about all of it. It's almost like in a state of being drunk, where you know what's going on to a certain level, but it's foggy. It's rose-tinted enough that if everyone thinks it, he can, too.

This projection is only made worse if he gets involved as Barbatos. It changes things from just the slightly weird couple who, honestly, the people of Mondstadt can't really explain how they ended up that way. They remember bits of it, but it seems like someone through someone, though some random grandma just mentioned you were taken, and everyone ran with it. But if the church were to find the falsified relics and stories, then there just is nothing you can do. Now, it's not only Venti trying to project something there but the whole church following, believing that you are some saint and by having you married? Honestly, you aren't really sure what all this goal is to have you 'connected to Barbatos' even means, but whatever it is… it doesn't sound good. The expectations of you are doubled, and the projection of you being more than human is suffocating. But it's only made worse when Venti comes forward as Barbatos to you, saying you should just play the part. Stay with the church as some saint and with him. You'll still have a life of freedom outside of it, just with some more expectations about how you interact with others. You'd be bound by the marriage of some sort, and he'd find a way to make it eternal. It doesn't sound too bad, right? Freedom isn't truly free, but it never has been. It's an elusive concept, something subjective, but if you still have the right to enjoy your life and the good of being such, then it should be okay. You can still leave the church figuratively and travel, arguing it's on some journey for something. You aren't restricted in how you speak or think, but things like infidelity and how you speak of love need to be more kind. Yet you'd live a life of peace, one of never needing to be allowed and have the blessing of a god in your favor.

If not, think of the projection people will have if you say no. If you try to run away, you lose everything. That would be the true loss of freedom. The loss of your friends, your loved ones. Your home. Venti projects this idea of love and what love should be for you two, not between you and him necessarily, but to everyone else, making it all the more terrifying at the consequences when he finally does. Not if, but when.

Monopoly

This is where things get rough because Venti is possessive in a way that can't be controlled. He feels it settling in his chest when he spends too long talking to the shopkeeper or giggling a little too hard at a friend's joke. He hates it when you work and when you dedicate your time to the kittens outside The Cat's Tail. He whines when you have to leave in the morning and when you turn up to Angel Share just a little too late, begging to know who you are with. It hurts him. He can't explain it in the way it crushes his soul, seeing you give your time to others, your energy, and your care. It pains him so deeply to see you run yourself thin for the world around you, for those who could never understand you like he does.

Venti knows it would be easy to whisk you away. To use his godly powers to keep you safe, to keep your attention and love only on him. How things would be so much better for you, for each other, if you could just monopolize your time for him and you and no one else. The idea weighs on him like a pile of bricks. He knows it's wrong; he knows it goes against everything he stands for. And call him childish, but he can't help how he feels.

It's true he never really acts on it. Clinging onto you and carping over it, sure, the way he tugs slightly on your arm after you keep talking to the passerby you bumped into, an old friend, ready to drag you off to somewhere in Mondstadt, you can be alone. How he holds on just a little too tight when you talk about events at work and the people you chatted with, quickly wanting to move to a more interpersonal topic.

Venti never really monopolizes you or your relationships, but his bratty and more childish act really is brought out more with you around. You still get the socialization and ability to be around whoever, but it always needs to be rightfully compensated with some alone time with the god as well, so pick your battles sparingly and just go with him when his fuse starts to burn out.

Bizarre Seeking [unique]

Tying back to his sleep issue, the case of bizarreness only relies so much on how far he's willing to push to keep you immortal, either through godhood or other means. It's surprising he'd even consider it; his testament for Celestia is apparent in conversations, and the path to godhood is not seen in a much higher light based on conversations. But Venti knows sacrifices need to be made to get what you want, and if that means the pursuit of godhood or immorality to not lose any more of his loved one, then that's a sacrifice to be made.

Because of this, Venti ends up pushing you into countless more and more weird scenarios. You end up visiting a certain alchemist more, not really ever knowing the reasons why, and stranger things of yours seem to be going missing. What is that strange bruise on your arm, and why does this one piece of hair seem slightly shorter than the rest? You also swore that Caramel Pinecone tasted weird last time, but even when you ordered the Love Poem instead, it was still off…

The limits of Venti's morality are very much pushed with the goal of finding a way to extend your life more permanently, and while the actions he takes are questionable, they aren't anything he would do less deemed necessary. Beyond that, once he finds the key to unlock it, his bizarre-seeking tendencies end up dying down or stopping altogether.

Also, while he considers and will try to push for a Celestia ascension if push comes to shove, the ability to actually achieve godhood this way is much more complicated and dangerous. Something he might keep trying for, but this way is much less likely to succeed, and he knows this, which is why other bizarre tendencies take priority.

General protectiveness

Overall, protectiveness is a standard feat. Venti doesn't want you to get hurt and will do nearly anything to prevent it, hence a considerable factor of his stalking outside of walls of the city or towns. Even with others, if he thinks they pose some physical threat, Venti has little fear of stepping between you and 'the threat.' It's not so much a protective coating or an extreme case where he needs to check everything you do, touch, eat, drink, or interact with. Still, there is a natural sense of him wanting to protect you and watch over you to make sure that nothing can gravely hurt you. This mirrors why the wind follows you if you travel and picks up to warn you and redirect you away from dangers, a protective aura of Venti that trails after you. It's not even a doubt that you can't, but the inherent need to make sure you make it back in one piece.

There is, again, only one primary reason Venti will use full force to intervene, and this is if he knows you are purposefully trying to run off somewhere that will put you in danger for any reason. Often downplaying his strength of wind, the storm, if needed, will border Mondstadt making it. Hence, nothing gets in or out until you agree to drop it, tearing nearly everything that comes in contact with the barrier if you don't agree to listen to him first and think of a genuine plan. The wind sees all, and while terraforming isn't much on his bucket list anymore, Barbatos has no fear of proving his worth and power if in the name of love and protection. Even if it hurts you to know whatever your goal is foiled, if it's the one-stop against your freedom, there are some things not worth being risked.

Lowest Stats

General [none]

The one trait Venti inherently lacks is sadism. Nothing he does to you or others is derived from the pleasure of hurting or seeing others hurt. And while those such as the abyss creatures for fatui foot soldiers are at the whims of his fighting, it's not done with the goal or satisfaction of a battle but rather a necessity for 'his' people and you.

It's apparent that actions that long-term hurt you or have serious effects, both mental and physical, that fundamentally change you aren't truly a goal. Yeah, the immortality would literally change you, but not with the goal of making you conform or transform into a new mental mindset. At least not right away, as he knows that a long life naturally changes people, but there never is a purpose to rid you of traits. To tie you down and break you until you love him the way he loves you.

Freedom, as touched on, is never truly free. Not of people, not of actions, or even of mindsets. But is it that Venti wants you to be you; be the self you choose to be and the freedom that comes with that, even if aspects of it hurt him. It's why if he has to let you go to Sumeru for a festival he knows wouldn't be possible for him to also attend, he lets you know you'll come back to him without the burden of being changed or conformed to have to come back. It's why, in every case, Venti does whatever is in his power to keep you from being genuinely hurt, even if he can't always fulfill that promise. It's why, despite everything, he can't hurt the people who create the fires of jealousy in his core being.

Venti has an awareness that many of his actions are immoral and that he has dirtied his hands in the past just as much. he knows of the guilt you struggle with, and then he is using his skills to manipulate and play everyone like a fiddle, but in the eyes of a god and one who believes in freedom, it is not in his role to harm anyone in the light of you. It's a turning point he could never come back from if he were to directly hurt you or anyone else with the goal of keeping you with him, and it would be a dishonor to everything he was created from. A stain on the nameless bard he honors so deeply, so while the envelope of what is okay is pushed every day with his other actions, there is never once a hand that is laid on you for the sake of 'love' from Bardatos.

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Statistic diagram; Venti [Barbatos]