#yandere priestess

[yandere-sins]

Do you know which concept I‘m going feral over again at the moment?

Yandere!Priests

[Warning: Yandere + Violent & Lewd content]

It‘s really just about the absolute depravity of these priests.

A priest who‘s knuckles turn white as they grip the altar so hard to not just jump his darling on the spot while they are in the middle of a sermon. But their darling is sitting in the front row and they can smell their perfume and it‘s driving them absolutely insane and their cock so hard that they can‘t concentrate on their speech to the point they have to cut the service short. Everyone is so concerned about them but when their darling steps up to ask if they are okay or need something, they almost orgasm in front of everyone. (They‘ll make sure that their darling is the only person to take care of them, that‘s for sure. And while the priest is at it, they can invade their darling‘s home and life to the point of no return.)

Or confessional boothes where their darling is spilling all their worries and heartache, which is not only ideal for the priest to know to manipulate them later, but also because they can't help jerking off pitifully to their darling's voice. Imagining them on their knees sucking them off like the little devil his darling must be to turn the priest away from god. Yet the priest will be panting and gasping for air by the time they absolve their darling from the 'sins' they comitted, the priest hoping they'll be back soon with more.

A cult priestess who notices one of the followers turning away from the cult and it happens to very their darling. So they start sacrificing all their darling‘s friend and family, making them the outcast. Making sure they feel so threatened and scared that the moment the priest opens their arm for them, they run and confess all their sins. They are an outcast that the priest can take back under their wing, reform back to their faith and at the same time manipulate and gaslight them to the point that they won‘t want to leave the priests side anymore, which gives room for them to demand the ultimate sacrifice of the darling—their whole being.

A very beloved priest and their caretaker!darling. Priest is the chosen of god but they‘ll refuse to do anything they are supposed to if their darling isn‘t in reach for them at all times. Darling who was forced into this role but is now pressured into doing everything for the priest so the latter may provide the village with divine guidance. Darling that wants to escape but is dragged back and beaten into compliance. And a priest who basks in the glory of getting away with all the lewd and terrible things he does to them with no one to help the darling.

But it goes to other religious figures as well!

Angels that begin to fall from grace without realizing it because they start to simp for their darling and they really shouldn‘t. But the darling looks so cute and the angel loves it when you laugh. They're really trying not to favor them with divine intervention whenever their darling is having a bad day, but seeing their frown turn into a smile when they see a rainbow or pet a stray cat that thee angel led to them, they just can't help themselves from making their darling's life a little easier. That is, until the darling starts to truly commit sins (like fall in love with someone that is not the angel), and they have to do worse things (like watch over them as the darling undresses or masturbates) and they don't even realize just how much they are losing their angelic-ness, because the angel suddenly longs to be more than just a silent observer.

Nuns/Monks that are taking care of a lost sheep on their priests demands and start to forget about all their vows and duties, wanting to only be with them and stalking them around the grounds. Sneaking into their rooms to frolick in their darling's sheets and lick their spoon after dinner, their nethers tingling with lust as more and more depraved thoughts come into mind. Them sitting next to their darling at the sermon, their knees touching and the yan unable to keep themselves from panting and salivating over their darling, developing a desire to deprave them in the same way as the darling has the yan.

Anyway, I'm super normal about it but,

[flokali]

𓂆 | Write for Gaza

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—#๋࣭. I love you, I Own you ; Part 3

Final part to the “ILYIOY” series, meant to tie up the story and finish telling what happens to Reader’s family, Reader herself, and Childe’s feelings about what he’s done.

Current word count: 600~ words • Estimated word count: 9k words

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—#๋࣭. Deus Vult ; Reworked (Part 1)

A complete rewriting and restructuring of my first fic on the blog, it’ll be longer and more thorough; after almost 2 years on the blog, if not more, I have mulled over the concept many times and wished to redo it and give it a proper setting.

Current word count: 500~ words • Estimated word count: 6-9k words

—#๋࣭. Love Virus

Boothill fic where a pesky USB with a “love code” gets mistakenly used on him, as the doctor/programmer in charge with overseeing this mess – you find yourself the target of his newfound affection.

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You’re one of the last remaining people of your species, now seen as a luxury to be passed around to the highest bidder. In a twist of fate, Aventurine finds himself with the key – or price – to your freedom, although he never fancied himself a hero he doesn’t mind the way you look at him as your saviour.

Current word count: 1200~ words • Estimated word count: 6k word.

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[threepandas]

Bad End: Pray

Faith should not be transactional. Bartered to the highest bidder and sold as the winds shift. Bought with miracles and blessings. Heaped upon powerful champions and gifted at the sweet words of avatars. Perhaps it is old fashioned of me. Or maybe it is "naive" as I have often been accused.

To be honest, I am just not used to The Divine being so active.

Perhaps it is loyalty. Perhaps it is... faith. I do not know. But I can not imagine being swayed from the Goddess I serve. Not when... unlike BEFORE? I can... can actually FEEL Her presence.

I still laugh in disbelief sometimes. In AWE. Can you even IMAGINE? Sitting there, head bowed in prayer, in that quiet little temple of nowhere special, and... while expecting NOTHING? Feeling... feeling love. A gentle, all encompassing, hand that picks you up without moving you. Cradles your soul like a beloved child.

There aren't really words to explain what it feels like. It's somewhere between talking in circles, poetry, and gibberish. But BEAUTIFUL. So utterly, utterly beautiful. I can not comprehend why anyone would ever turn their back on her. Could EVER be bought with showy trinkets and bits of gold. Party tricks.

I am an outlier, in that regard.

Only myself and the Elders remain.

No one comes. Not to worship, not for blessings or wisdom. Not even to rest from the rain. Our humble temple more quiet then it has ever been. There was always SOMEONE. We are, after all, a temple too our Lady the Nox Viatoris. Keeper of those who travel at night, in places of peril, or should the worst occur... their soul's too safe resting. (Also, several small and fluffy nocturnal animals!)

"Night" was rather loosely defined, too. It honestly meant any place of low lighting. So a deep valley or cave worked too. Under belly of a city. Sewer system. We had smugglers, on occasion. They were generous. Honestly quiet devote. And as long as they didn't break the tenets of Our Lady's teachings? Well... what Oddly Weathy Worshiper with Working Knowledge Of Sewer Systems!

It was a well known joke. Everyone ignored them.

But one by one... they stopped coming.

The locals who's families had worshipped here for generations. The merchants who always came "just in case". The smugglers who "could use a bit of luck". Random travelers, guided by our Lady to a place of safety. I began to hear scoffs, as I went into town, from the younger generations. Get "concerned hints" from aunties and uncles I had know all my life.

Fellow priestess started too... drift away.

First seeming distracted, praying more, then praying less, going for longer and longer walks, their ceremonial robes getting increasingly half-hearted, then... after the final, damning stage of "staring off towards town a lot"? They would leave. Some with excuses. Others with vitriol. Our home colder and colder for each one gone.

The Elders heart's were breaking. They were watching the slow death of the only home they had ever known and could do nothing to stop it. The temple was dying. The children they had raised, the little ones who were all but grandchildren, abandoning them without second thought or simple discussion. For some whispered promise of foreign gods.

But I? I intend to stay, no matter what.

I who had been born to travels that did not want me, here in this temple that DID. Loved by these walls and this Lady. Who was given a second chance when my first ended so abruptly. Who would walk with Her one day. Proudly and with love. This was my home. Even if I had to take care of it by myself, I WOULD.

Things in town grew... vitriolic. Tense. Like a simmering heat had spread across the street where once, cool water flowed. It lurked beneath the surface. Volatile and burning, as bright colors seem to spread like sickness across the town. They felt... aggressive, somehow. Those colors. As though anyone NOT wearing them must answer for the crime of it.

I had them pushed upon me.

Again and again.

"It's cheerful!" "Look how bright and sunny they are!" "You'll look GREAT!"

I served a night goddess. The brightest color I was allowed to wear was off white to represent the moon and stars. Night blooming flowers if I could find them and justify it. It wasn't a matter of PREFERENCE. They KNEW this. I could NOT wear their gifts. Not the clothes. Not the jewelry. Not the decorations. None of it. Especially not with...suns... on it.

It was then I did more then just suspect. As I held the most recent gift, pushed upon me by well meaning friends. Struggling to remain patient. The sun sewn into the cheerfully dyed fabric MOCKED and sneered. Gaudy and ugly to my eyes. I turned, back to the temple, the rest of my shopping forgotten.

It could wait.

When I returned? I showed the Elders what I had been handed. Elder Antilla going so pale she nearly fainted. It was all that they had feared. At last, one of the major players had decided to swallow our tiny region whole. We were nothing but a small regional faith. Our Lady a weak but kind Divine in the grand scheme of things. She took care of us.

Could not offer us miracles and silks, honey and splendor. But she could love us. Protect our souls and guide us. The stronger Gods? Oh, they could offer SO MUCH more. Tempt and sway away Her faithful. Starve her into nothingness as they strip her of power. Consume her, as they had so many others before.

We had been safe.

Because we were far away and of little interest, tucked away between mountains that lead to nowhere of strategic worth. Few people to even convert. But seems... our time had run out. One of them had come for us. And oh... oh how EASY it had been for them to pour their power and wealth into swaying our faithful away. Buying their souls for a pittance of power and a laugh.

We had to sit down.

The mood grim.

The Elders would not live much longer, I knew. Perhaps that was why they were ignored. That, or the other God knew they could not sway them. They certainly would not sway me. I refused. Even if I had to worship alone. Became some cultist in the woods. I would NOT leave Her.

I prayed.

The silence felt deafening. But at least I was not alone. My Lady's arms held me close. As though trying to shield me from the world. Shaking, tears of grief that left no marks, dropping one after another upon my hair and skin. Suddenly the arms around me tightened in alarm. Pulled, as though commanding me to stand. To be ready to run. There was FEAR in that action.

I was on my feet at once. Turning towards the open air of the entrance.

Up the road, old and worn with the passing feet of countless travelers, came the crisp step of expensive boot leather. The rustle of leaves, the chirping of birds, all of it, seemed to hush as the sound of footsteps got closer. As though nature itself was afraid to draw attention of whatever was coming.

It was the light that changed first. No longer coming from just above us, yet somehow? It still was. The mid-day's sun was bright, cheerful, yet perfectly ordinary. Natural in the way countless summer day's have been. But the light coming from up the path? Low and shifting like a lantern swings, in a way that can only be ORGANIC?

It BURNED.

The sort of light that purges all in its path. That blinds and maims and burns. So hot everything becomes cold, as nerve endings char away. Like the blinding light off winter snow. Pale and reaching. Hungry. Consuming. W...What WAS that? It was getting closer. I backed deeper into the temple. Towards my Lady's idol.

The hush grew louder and louder, in it's terrible absence of sound.

The light brighter, as whatever IT was, got closer.

My eyes could see no shadows, so it probably wasn't real light. It hurt to look at. Yet it didn't hurt in the way staring at bright lights SHOULD hurt. It was painful because it had... claws? Thorns. Jagged, dragging edges that ripped at the something in me that SAW.

I could See because I needed to See, I think.

She NEEDED me to know what stood before me was not merely a man.

And THAT? That is the form it took. The liar and thief. A burning monster at the threshold of my home. Dressed in the finest silks and satins stolen faith can buy, the jewels glinting from his belt enough to buy several small nations. THAT was not a man. It just looked like one. Wore the face of one.

High Priest? Champion?

Goddess help me, an Avatar?

They were enmeshed. Woven so tightly they were all but an extension of the Divine. And it BURNED. Bright, holy, and terrible. A Sun standing before the Moon's own temple, with purging fire in its heart.

"Hello, little Thing. You've been quite stubborn, haven't you?"

They didn't raise their voice, yet still my bones felt like they rattled in my skin. The few windows we had, shook. Light fixtures swayed. I... I was afraid. I would NOT cower, but oh, Lady, I was afraid. His voice felt like the desert sighing against my skin. The edge of a threat.

"I lay out treats and you do not come. I invite the town and you will not hear me. You brothers and sisters kneel at my feet, yet you? You spurn me, too give your loyalty away for nothing."

I watch as he casually reaches to the air to his side. As though accepting something offered from someone who is not there. A cigarette. He tucks it into his mouth and cups the end, his finger glowing brightly as he lights it.

He takes a drag then exhales.

Letting the smoke whisp, rudely, past the unspoken barrier between us and into the temple proper. It's scent mixes discordantly with the incense. Making what was once lovely a cloying and choking mess. I watch him smirk as he takes another drag. Send more smoke inside.

His disrespect is deliberate.

"What can the festering night give, that the loving embrace of the day can not give better?"

His smirk rolls into the mimicry of a laugh. The monster's head tilted as though to consider my reaction even as the empty sound echoes against the temple's walls. It has the depth of a laugh track. The warmth of one. How... HOW has this CREATURE fooled ANYONE? Destroyed us so utterly? It is cruel.

"Ah~ so THAT'S what it is, you precious little Thing." He whispers, somehow the most terrible sound he has made so far. The power of it drags against me covetously, lingering like hands. "True Faith, given freely. You really do love her so, don't you? That wretched, unworthy, Nothing. Little Thing~, you should love ME instead."

It ended in a croon. As though trying to entice me. But all I could hear was static. The pounding of my heart as fear released adrenaline into my body, bringing the world into hyperfocus. "Me"? My ears had not deceived me, right? That THING in mockery of man's form... said "me"?

Oh, Nox Viatoris, our Lady who guides us, on darkest paths in deepest night... h.. hold my soul with kindness. Walk with me, on this broken, troubled path. That I may not face it alone. I... I am scared.

That... That was An AVATAR.

The extension of the Divine upon this mortal world. Not nearly their full power, but even a fraction of the INFINTE? Is beyond mortal capacity to fight. Only Avatars could handle other Avatars. On rare occasions, Champions, should they band together. But I... I was just a priestess. A humble child of nowhere.

Oh Goddess.

I back up. My back hitting the alter. I... I was probably going to die here. Our faith, wiped from the face of the map. I finally understood. He had come to stomp, like crushing ants, on what few hold outs dared linger at the fringes of his domain. Sent his Avatar to convert and destroy.

Our home would be nothing but rubble, wouldn't it? Generations of faith, gone. Our history, burned before his uncaring purge. At... oh Goddess, dear Lady, at least I would walk that final time with her. Could return the kindness she had shown so many. He was going to kill her. Kill US.

I...I refused to let her die alone.

Against my back, I felt the cool warmth of my Lady, leaning against me. Her unseen arms around me in comfort. For me or herself, I could not tell. It did not matter. I stood taller. Head high, shoulders back, feet shoulders wide. Shaking, yes, but unwilling to cower.

If I died today, I would walk proudly with Nox Viatoris.

The smile had slipped from the Avatar's face as it blankly regarded the spot directly behind me. Like a puppet sliding back into default in that absence of commands. I briefly wondered... who had he been? The faithful man, who gave up his form? Who was hollowed out and USED? He was beautiful. Had he been asked?

Or had he had this terrible thing inflicted upon him?

I would never know.

"That's rather annoying, you useless little parasite. She and I were having a conversation." The puppet's, the AVATAR'S mouth, barely moved. "Can't you go check on those wastes of space of yours? The ones that you've only barely managed to keep? They should be dead soon, you'll need to do your job. I'll take Good Care~ of this bright little soul. Don't bother coming back."

"No need." Came the deceptively soft rasp of the high priest. His normally kind face colder then I had ever seen it. Fierce and determined as he lead the other elders from the where they had been meeting in the gardens. Had the Goddess called them? Or had they simply sensed something was wrong?

"I am afraid that although the temple is said to be open to all, that is not, in fact, strictly true. Those that come here with malicious intent are not welcome. Nor those who come to cause trouble, intent regardless. YOU have caused grief and pain here. We do not welcome you to these halls. Please go."

Elder Lilam was subtly pushing me towards the back of the group. Their eyes somber as they met mine. I... I did not cry. There would been time for such things later, I hoped. I nodded back. Understood. Went, softly, on quiet feet. Past the alter, into the back, down the main hall on swift but not running feet.

To the back, where the wanderers bags were. For those our Lady calls suddenly to travel. To wander the roads in search of lost travelers in need of aid. I grabbed more then my fair share of bags. I... I did not suspect I would be coming back. Then into the back gardens. Where we grew herbs and vegetables for the kitchen.

The front of the temple SHOOK.

A terrible burning light. Heat and death. I barely kept my feet under me. Broke into a sprint. Away from the only home I had ever known. The Elders I was certain our Lady now walked to their rest. Towards the mountains and forests I had explored all my life. I... I could only hope they would protect me.

In my chest, the mantle of High Priestess settled. Heavy and mournful with our Lady's grief. I would have to carry the weight. There was no one else now. They were gone. With her. They had done all they could.

Felt their sorrow, their love, and it was all I could do not to let my tears blind me.

I needed to see the path. Could not risk missteping even once.

Behind me, down further below, and now hidden by the trees, I heard the temple crash and shake. As it was torn apart. Pillar by pillar, room by room, lifetimes of love and memories were destroyed. The murals painted in my childhood were surely gone by now. The hand carved doors that had lasted for centuries. Paint splatters and embroideries from generations of youth who had grown to call that place home.

Gone.

All of us, gone.

I ran.

I ran and I HATED myself for running. What could I DO? What could I POSSIBLY hope to DO? All I had left was to survive. Too carry them forward. It hurt. Worse then any breaking bone or burning skin. I couldn't even cry. I... I didn't have the TIME.

I hit the tree line. Didn't dare go too much higher. Didn't know if Avatars could fucking fly. Didn't want to find out the hard way. So many things I did not do. Was there anything left I DID do? Was GOOD for?

There was.

The shadowed place between two mountains. Mid-day had past. Afternoon was meandering towards days end. It would only get darker from here. Ha ha... where was this? When we need it? Oh, I knew. The monster timed his arrival well. At the height of his power.

But this was MY house now.

He may be stronger then me? But that meant NOTHING. I did not need power here. I needed SUBTLETY. A whisp of nothingness of a breeze of shadows. I could feel him, slow and steady, arrogant in his assumptions, pursuing me. He really did know NOTHING about those he destroyed. We were beneath his notice.

I hope the hubris burns as he chokes on it.

I slip between the mountains, into that deep rift of a valley, more crack then anything, and... VANISH. I am One with the Night. A traveler on Her path. Safe in her care. Sideways and one step removed from reality, as I race forward. No longer stumbling over uneven rocks and clambering on unstable terrain, the path beneath my feet is soft and smooth. I grin, as far away, that bastard falters.

"Oh, you clever little Thing. I forgot you still had tricks. Amusing~"

"It won't keep you from me though, I WILL have you in the end. And you will worship ME. Look only upon ME. And you will be my favorite, I think. I am going to chase you down, little Thing. So go ahead and pray. It will do you no good."

"You are going to be MINE, beautiful in the sunlight. You have no choice."

[kentocidal]

the betrothal.

users: rex lapis x fem!reader

warning! this file has been corrupted! do not open! yandere!rex lapis, violence, description of a dead body, death of an unnamed character, power imbalance, age gap, pre-canon, like many years pre-canon, historical inaccuracies, ask to tag.

internal message: so uhhh. yeah this. this is an au i’ve been working on. this is my introduction to it p much. i hope this reaches other freaks like me so i have an excuse to write more yan!zhongli and get into the talks of enabler!xiao

new notifications! @kaedescara @yaekiss (want to get a notification? send me an ask off anon!)

“huh?”

you stood completely rigid in the elaborate dining hall of the large house that was not your own, your father’s hand on the small of your back, keeping you from running.

you turned your head to look up at him, blinking and feeling your chest go tight as he laughed awkwardly at your reaction to his statement. “darling, i’m sure you heard me. this is your betrothed.”

“but… what? i never…” you looked straight ahead again, at the man in front of you who was surrounded by his parents and a handful of guards, a sweet and tender smile on his face as he looked you over like you were furniture and not a person. your father patted your back to try and encourage you to step forward, but you stayed planted firmly in your spot next to him.

“honey, i know you remember me explaining this to you.” your father’s lips were near your ear as he mumbled to you, sighing. “if you didn’t find a husband, i would find one for you. i told you this.”

something inside of you twisted. something deep, carnal, dark. this was wrong.

you had known from the moment you came of age that something… something bigger was meant for you. your archon had called to you from the moment you first learned of him and his existence. his voice traveled through the echoes in the stone forest, telling you exactly where the good footholds were to ensure you wouldn’t fall. he made you feel lucky – it felt like you never tripped over stones or the boards in liyue harbor that other people stumbled over. you always had just the right amount of mora in your coin purse whenever you were hungry or thirsty or saw a brand new yukata in a deep brown and black that fit just right, no alterations needed. you felt blessed, felt that your calling was to be a handmaid to the archon, to his temple, keep yourself holy…

and your father was having none of it.

he had told you for the past six months that you were delusional, that you needed to focus on growing up and marrying off and bearing children to carry on your bloodline. you were the only daughter; your mother never produced a son before she passed. it was up to you, but you were not willing.

you felt your eyes start to well with tears and a scratchy lump settle in the back of your throat as you looked at this man, this stranger in front of you, and bowed slightly to him.

“pleasure to meet you,” came your meek, timid voice, shrouded in anger, panic, betrayal.

your betrothed smiled at your submissive stature, chuckling to himself and reaching to take one of your hands to press a kiss to the back of it. “the pleasure is mine. come, have dinner with us. please. it would make me so happy to feed you.”

and you went, because you had to. and you broke bread with this stranger, with this family that you were becoming forced to be a part of. this marriage would come sooner rather than later, and the idea of giving up your beliefs to make this man happy tore at you.

you could hardly eat the meal prepped for you, though it smelled delicious and looked divine. fresh pheasant and vegetables from a garden outside… you felt like you were going to be sick instead. 

you forced some rice down your throat before standing and saying you had a headache, urging to be escorted home by your father. he did not wish to oblige, but your betrothed – what was his name again? – was kind enough to excuse you both early. it felt like one of the blessings your archon was bestowing upon you. he had to understand that this was not for you.

the walk home was dark and filled with your father speaking down to you about the disgrace you had brought to the family, how it was not in the bloodline to become a priest of any kind. you swallowed, and simply turned down the opposite fork in the road towards one of the statues of your archon, refusing to listen to the shouts of your father who demanded you return to him at once.

you instead slipped underneath the roof of the small lean-to temple, fussing about to get incense lit and leave mora in the plate before taking your place on your knees in front of the statue, hands folded in your lap after smoothing out the fabric there. the heady scent of incense filled your head and soothed your worries almost immediately, a brush of wind guiding stray hairs from your face, almost like a hand brushing them away.

you bit your lip before speaking into the wind, already feeling the lump in your throat start to shift and loosen, a fresh swath of tears pricking the corners of your eyes. “this isn’t what is supposed to happen, is it?”

silence in the wind. it feels still, suddenly. you hiccup.

“i’m supposed to be guided by you, am i not? you have always guided me to do the right thing, always ensured good things happen to me. if this is true… why do i feel so empty? why does this feel wrong?”

a rustle in the trees. you sniffle and shift closer to the base of the statue, tipping your face up to look at the hooded figure sitting far above your head. you wipe at your eyes with the back of your hand. “i just need an answer. please. i don’t… think i ever want to be married. if there’s a way to escape this, something, anything, please… help me.” 

you cried. you felt like you were in mourning. you felt so empty, so alone. for the very first time in your life. you felt like your archon’s eyes were not on you.

you stood up and dropped more mora in the plate, all that you had in your coin purse, more than you remember packing, before slipping off into the night.

you cried yourself to sleep in your childhood home, curled up tightly until the early morning when you rose to hear liyue in a commotion, groups of footsteps outside your door and running along the trails leading towards the harbor. it was unusually busy as you gathered yourself for the day and hurried to follow the crowd.

it seemed to part for you, people looking over their shoulders to find you and immediately bowing out of your way to let you through. you briefly wondered if news of your engagement made its way through the city already, that the girl who was the archon’s most devoted follower was leaving the fold to be married circulated enough to embarrass you, but you soon discovered this was not the case. 

instead, you joined the crowd in the center of the city where the archon himself had descended upon the people, holding a limp body in his arms, a long dragon tail flicking at the sight of you. you swallowed and almost felt a scream bubble up, but nothing came. 

you stared into the yellow eyes of rex lapis and watched the fire melt away into the eyes of a simple man. he dropped the bleeding body from his arms to the boardwalk of the harbor. it landed with a sickening crack, splattering blood and practically bouncing. the head of the man turned in a disgusting way, and you recognized the face of your betrothed immediately.

in a short moment the archon had stepped over the body of the man you had broken bread with and approached you, holding out a blood coated hand.

“there you are.” his voice was deep, booming, raspy. almost inhuman. his tail flicked under his robes and you could tell his hood was concealing horns that wrapped around pointed ears.

“what have you done?” was your initial reaction, one that you regretted immediately, because the face of your archon hardened like the stones he created in his wake.

“i am answering your prayers, precious one. did you not cry for me to help you? did you not beg on your knees to be saved from this responsibility?” rex lapis cast a glance over his shoulder to the body of the man that was still seeping blood into the wood planks of the harbor. “he was nothing. cursed to a life of solitude. i am relieving you. where is my thanks?”

you shook as you stared at his outstretched hand, large and wet with blood and claws long enough to rip your heart out.

you stared hard at him for a moment as the pieces that had been handed to you one by one by him throughout your life snapped neatly into place, and you felt like your very essence was being pulled in towards him as your smaller hand pressed into his.he smiled at you, a slight grin, knowing and wise, and his eyes seemed to crackle with a sickness you would pretend wasn’t there as he pulled you towards his chest. “you were made for me, my gem. only for me.”

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Now See Them Burn in Fire | Teaser 1

Just as unfounded are the rumours that the boy himself was at fault for his parent’s death. After all they failed to bear a live child after him. His mother’s womb becoming a graveyard for multiple of his lost brothers and sisters. In fact that is how she eventually died, while birthing one such departed soul.

His father wasn’t the same after. He turned cruel. You had felt sorry for the boy to be the subject of his father's anger and resentment. You even went out of your way to be kind to him every time you saw the marks of hate on his body or saw him crying by himself in the woods. For a very brief period, you may have even considered yourselves friends.

He didn’t appear evil from up close. He wasn’t so quiet and menacing. He was a child like all of you were. He wanted to play and laugh and enjoy himself, and you really enjoyed watching him do that. He was a silly child when you were alone together and for a short while it warmed your heart to see him let go around you

You even introduced him in secret to some of the magic only those raised under the guidance of the gods had access to, but he showed such interest in it and you couldn’t help but indulge one of his few desires. You told him secrets about the practice that even seasoned mages didn’t have access to–secrets you’d only known by eavesdropping on your own high-ranking parents.

He ate it all up, pushing you for more and more. You loved to talk to him about your practice. It is a very respected and esteemed position to be in but it can also be lonely as you can’t speak about it to most people, even amongst the fellow apprentices, each of you had your area of study and weren’t privy to much else. But no one knew you were meeting with him and therefore no one could stop you from divulging all your secrets to him. It was harmless. What would he even do with that knowledge? He’s a warrior just like his parents, not a very good one much to his father’s chagrin, but it meant that he wouldn't be able to do anything with the secrets you were exposing to him.

Still, he absorbed the knowledge fast, some would say concerningly fast. He would make off hand suggestions that would help you solve issues you'd been struggling with for some time. He would get you ingredients that were very hard to get from the forest and due to his help, you were able to make a mark for yourself as a competent mage, outshining your peers.

Beomgyu's eyes lit up every time his help would cause you to advance further in your training. He never cared about claiming credit for it. He would just smile and make you his special wildflower and mushroom soup to celebrate. It tasted like nothing you've ever had before and you craved it almost as much as you craved success.

You liked to see him smile, liked the way he looked at you as you gushed or complained about your training. Your foolish young heart liked to think there was a fondness in his gaze. It was a stupid passing fancy of course. You couldn’t possibly consider him seriously, not with the dark rumours around him and especially not after his father too passed in a uniquely gruesome way.

[mistymem0ryy]

some new work in the making... Morax/Zhongli enjoyers, I am but a humble servant preparing a new meal...

[theoccoven]

“I can take care of you so much better than him.”

Daan, the reincarnation of Theseus, muttered into Jooheon’s shoulder. “I was a king. I slayed a Minotaur. What has he done other than give you grief?” Jooheon didn’t say anything as he let the older’s hands under his shirt.

“Nothing my love. And you’re well aware of it or you would have defended him.” You could hear it clear as day, the obsession in his voice. Jooheon grew familiar with it the longer he’s known Daan. This obsession is covered up as love, twisted love for the younger in his arms.

It was everlasting and Jooheon staying in his arms oh so accepting of this love just fed into his deluded thoughts.

There was no escape from this, Jooheon was slowly accepting that.

[euniveve]

Someone stop me im having a kinda dead dove dottore x reader idea and i cant have other fics hogging my to be written list

[anothanobody]

in which AU is Eren more likely to start a fight because he’s jealous of someone getting close to Mikasa.?

Yandere. Caged. 😭😭😭 they see the threat and they kill not even a fight 🤣💀

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Greek Champion x Priestess Reader - NonCon

He was chosen by the Gods to slaughter, to strike down all who stand against him. Your city has fallen at last and he has come to claim his prize.

Yandere! Champion with his bronze armour and his scars, sunlight reflecting off him in battle likes he's Ares himself.

Yandere! Champion who cares for nothing but his own glory. He'll step over the bodies of his own men if it meant victory.

Yandere! Champion who's chosen as the head of the delegation sent to your city. The offer is simple - swear fealty to the Greeks, open the city gates and hand over your Champion to be executed.

Yandere! Champion who rides right up to the city walls, even when his fellow warriors stay far out of arrow range. Does he not care for his own life, you wonder, or does he simply think himself immortal?

Yandere! Champion who barely even tries to be diplomatic. Who seems to think war is a foregone conclusion.

When your prince refuses him, Yandere! Champion looks up at the royalty and clergy on the wall above him - the greatest and most powerful of the city - and he spits.

"I will take this city and crush your walls under my heels."

Yandere! Champion who catches your eye and holds it. You, just a minor Priestess of Athena, have somehow attracted his attention.

Yandere! Champion who smiles a slow, terrible smile and you wonder what God whispered carnage in his cradle.

Yandere! Champion who blows you a mocking kiss, even though your robes show your dedication to the virgin goddess.

Yandere! Champion who is true to his promise. His soldiers throw themselves at your gates until the bodies on both sides are piled higher than your head.

Yandere! Champion who cuts down your prince in battle. Who beheads him with one clean sweep and as you watch it happen, you realise he is no mere mortal.

He truly is the God of War's Champion.

Yandere! Champion who doesn't even cheer when the city falls to him. Who simply steps over the shattered gates and heads toward the temple of Athena, his xiphos dripping blood behind him.

Yandere! Champion who finds you just as you're about to run. You're the last to leave the temple. Your love for your goddess outweighed your fear but the clash of swords and plumes of smoke finally broke you.

You're on the broad stairs that lead to the temple when you see him, standing at the bottom and looking up at you. His cloak and the crest on his helmet are a deep scarlet and he looks like a spill of blood on the marble stairs.

Yandere! Champion who takes a step forward for each one you take back. Your hands are trembling and he notices it, relishes it.

Yandere! Champion who smiles at you again. His helmet covers most of his face so all you can see is gleaming bronze and bloodstained teeth.

"Little virgin priestess. Your goddess has abandoned you."

Yandere! Champion who finally reaches the top of the stairs and now that you're on even ground, you realise how he towers over you.

Yandere! Champion whose strides are much longer than yours and he gets closer with each halting step you take away.

"Why else would your city fall? You have been forsaken."

His blade twitches in his hand and it makes you jump. His eyes are on you - a colour so deep they look black. Hungry enough to devour you, devour the city, swallow the whole damn world.

For the first time, you feel afraid in your Goddess's temple.

Yandere! Champion who finally stops. His sword is still streaked with blood and it shines an awful red. His eyes dip from your face to your chest to your thighs. And nothing in his gaze seems noble or honourable at all.

"Run, priestess. Run to your Goddess and maybe she can save you."

You run.

You run through the temple, marble pillars blurring in your vision. The altar, the statues.... Surely no harm can come to you in the temple of Athena? Surely the War Goddess can protect one of her own?

Yandere! Champion who catches you at the base of her statue. Who grabs your hair and forces you to the ground.

Yandere! Champion who digs his knee into your back, one hand in your hair and the other gripping his sword. He's going to kill you, you think. Slit your throat and spill your blood on holy ground.

But he doesn't kill you. No, what he does is far worse.

Yandere! Champion who casts his sword aside and presses himself against your back, his weight trapping you under him.

Yandere! Champion who drags your chiton up your thighs, his breath growing ragged with want. Fingers digging into your flesh like he wants to sink hooks into you.

Yandere! Champion who was promised a prize.

Yandere! Champion who has levelled cities in the name of his God. Who's burnt temples to the ground. Who has forsaken his humanity for glory.

Yandere! Champion who was promised a prize and who demanded Athena's most beautiful priestess.

Yandere! Champion who trails kisses across your jaw and neck and shoulders. Whose lips leave blood behind.

Yandere! Champion who doesn't care to prepare you. Who lines his cock up with your cunt and sheaths himself inside you with one brutal thrust.

Yandere! Champion who pulls your hair so hard you arch your back. Whose weight on you makes his breastplate dig into your shoulder blades. Whose grunts echo in your ears.

Yandere! Champion who thrusts and thrusts and mercilessly keeps going.

Yandere! Champion who fucks you in the temple of the Virgin Goddess. Who desecrates Athena's temple and priestess both. And yet the candles keep burning, the fountains still flow clear.

The pain burns through your stomach like fire. And still you reach for her, for your Goddess.

Yandere! Champion who grabs your outstretched hand and forces it to the floor, who intertwines his fingers with yours in a terrible parody of intimacy.

You plead with her, your voice rough with panic and grief. But the statue's eyes are nothing more than sculpted marble.

Yandere! Champion who finally has his prize, after years of carnage and searching. And who will never let you go.

Yandere! Champion who cums inside of you, his voice rasping in your ear.

"Your goddess has abandoned you, little priestess. And I am all that remains."

And in the awful silence of the temple, with a killer's hands on your skin, you realise what it means to hate the Gods.

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yokai Harem Headcanons

Meet your (6) monster boyfriends!

Since the story will take a while to unfold, I decided to speed things up and properly introduce you to the characters. A little time skip to Reader becoming an onmyōji herself and renewing the bonds with the yokai men, this time at their request. They cannot bear the thought of separating from their darling and since she has reneged her life as a regular human being, someone has to keep her company. And so the days are spent exorcising evil spirits both in modern and feudal Japan, with a pack of demons following close behind.

[Main story] [Character Guide]

Content: female reader, monster smut, NSFW, obsessive behavior, reader is a monster hoe again but feigns mild reluctance

Kiritsubo

Kiritsubo is your very first yokai encounter and he almost immediately falls for you. He's always been at the receiving end of his master's wrath for not being able to use his powers, so much that even after Nakamaro’s ‘death’ he couldn’t sleep without being plagued by horrid nightmares. His back is covered in thick scars from the frequent punishments. You first begun to suspect his background when you jumped in to protect him from an incoming blow and he froze in terror, unable to look up and awaiting the anticipated discipline.

Needles to say that when he learns you're not like the previous onmyōji he becomes extremely clingy and needy. He can only rest if you're next to him and will often hug you for reassurance. You've shared a bed before there was any hint of romance, simply because he found your presence so soothing. That's not to say he relies on you for everything. In fact, he unlocks his nearly unmatched abilities purely out of his desire to protect you. He’s found his purpose in serving you, someone who showed him kindness when he needed it most.

As you go out into the world, he begins to question his exact feelings for you. An example of his intense musings: he's asked you, perplexed, whether he can kiss you like the people he's seen on the street. He's spent his entire life being trained by Abe no Nakamaro, so he struggles to understand how relationships work. He will be utterly oblivious to other people flirting with him (it happens every now and then, he is a handsome demon after all), but simultaneously worry that everyone is out to have you. He’s already very salty about the other yokai joining your side and will frequently remind them he was the first to accept you.

When you complete your transition as an onmyōji, the priestess warns you that you may no longer partake in any kind of bonding with your fellow humans. Kiritsubo, seated next to you, responds almost instantly with eyes sparkling in excitement: "Well, that doesn’t extend to yokai, does it? I can still make you my wife.”

Kiritsubo is very clumsy when being intimate with you for the first time, but it doesn’t take long for him to become rather addicted to the feeling. You often have to scold him to behave and in return he’ll be pouting and fidgeting until you finally give in to his pleading gaze. He’s very vocal and touchy and will leave you covered in scratches from all the pulling. Towards the end he’s a drooling mess, mumbling about how much he loves you and begging you to never, ever leave him.

Murasaki

Murasaki is very cold and sarcastic on the surface, but you soon realize he is the most caring and responsible of the group, always looking out for everyone and trying to keep them out of trouble. In fewer words, he's almost like a tsundere mother hen (he won't hesitate to put you in a headlock if you mention it, though). He goes along with your wishes and will politely listen to anything you tell him, but to others he remains stoic and even rude. You’re sometimes reminded of the preferential treatment when witnessing his aggressive way of dealing with his suitors, shooing them away with the utmost disgusted scowl.

“Huh? Why can’t I be nicer to others? Bold of you to assume my tolerance is not, in fact, a limited resource spent entirely on dealing with you.”

He's been your guardian from the day you met him. He taught you how to use a sword and how to properly cast spells and seems to have a solution for all your troubles. When you introduced the yokai to the modern world you assumed he'd struggle to adapt, but he was extremely quick to learn and is, to this day, accumulating knowledge at a dizzying pace. One wouldn't be able to tell him apart from a regular city dweller. Murasaki is the concrete definition of a jack of all trades, excelling in whatever he sets his mind on.

Given his status and skills, the other yokai have always been rather jealous of him, including Kiritsubo. Ironically enough, by the time Murasaki accepted his infatuation towards you, you'd already gotten close to Kiritsubo. Which resulted in a lot of unexplained jealous bouts from a yokai too prideful to admit he loves you just as much. (You eventually get him to confess and reach the agreement to distribute the wealth among workers.)

He will occasionally be in a good enough mood to share with Kiritsubo, but it frequently results in a bizarre competition between them as you awkwardly squirm underneath, overstimulated. More often he prefers to pull you aside after you've done the deed with another yokai and aggressively fuck you as a way to assert his dominance. "Oh, was he that good? Then why are you moaning much louder now?" He'll demand with a firm grasp around your throat. Sadly his extreme competitiveness extends to this area as well.

Suma

Among the yokai, Suma is the most easygoing one despite his intimidating appearance. Most evenings he’ll have a drink in hand, eager to chitchat and ramble by the campfire, with his relaxed laughter resounding across the place. He is very loud and blunt and will often need to be reminded of the colossal power imbalance between him and regular humans and demons. Although after accidentally dislocating your shoulder (he was terribly amused by your joke and gave you a friendly pat), he’s gotten much better at adjusting the amount of force he uses, especially with you.

You’ve only witnessed him serious on two occasions: first one is a recurring event, when he’s training alone. When you’re together, he’s always in a merry mood, letting you try out moves and spells on him and frequently praising you even after failures. His whole demeanor changes when he’s by himself, swinging the spear with a calculated, focused gaze that remains unperturbed until the end of his session. The second case is when you get hurt. Now, he does encourage you to fight, and your confidence in battle is what caused him to fall head over heels in love with you. He will immediately put a stop to it, however, if the opponent ends up harming you. Seeing your lips curl in pain is enough to set him off and send him into a full blown rage.

Suma is destructive in all the ways you can think of. Given his massive size, as much as he’d love to, having his way with you is not something that can happen spontaneously. Borrowing his powers can of course help your frail body to not immediately tear apart, but depending on how much self control he has (or lack of), you might end up needing urgent healing from Sakaki. Suma will be extremely apologetic for nearly fucking you to death, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it. A more common approach is riding his hand, as one or two fingers are enough to make you dizzy. He’ll be satisfied just hearing your needy whimpers. He also adores watching you whenever you give him handjobs as your little, delicate hands struggle to hold onto him. You’re insignificant compared to him and yet you persevere, feisty and horny. His precious, tiny warrior.

Yuugiri

Yuugiri is by nature a manipulative, masterful liar, so it comes as no surprise that you had a hard time trusting him in the beginning. His habit of teasing you certainly didn’t help, as you could never tell whether he’s serious about something or not. Perhaps the greatest irony is that even when he tries to be honest, it comes out crooked. Such is the fate of a deceiving demon, although most people are only familiar with fox spirits. On his end, he loves that you’re so transparent and obvious, even occasionally naive. And so it took a lot of awkward pleading to convince you to renew a binding contract with him, given everyone was suspecting him of ulterior motives.

For Yuugiri, being part of such contract is the most vulnerable offering he could've given you as proof of his love. As your souls become connected, you can perceive his feelings in ways otherwise impossible to achieve. He willingly allowed you to be able to read his heart, and thankfully it worked. It was his last, desperate resort to get you to understand his affections. Do you finally see the earnest adoration he harbors for you?

He is the best choice if you're looking for a best friend to gossip with. He enjoys listening to your stories and pays great attention to every detail. He's also frighteningly vengeful, especially when it involves you. So if you ever complain about someone to him, know that he will remember it forever and will make sure to continuously get back at the offender in the worst possible ways and will only stop when you tell him to.

Now listen, I’m about to be quite crass but it is what it is: as a serpent demon he has a long, forked tongue and let’s just say everyone in the household can tell if he’s eating you out because it will be loud. It will be followed by the walk of shame, when you eventually have to come out of the room red-faced and sore-legged, with Yuugiri donning a devilish grin for the rest of the day. You always swear to keep it in next time, but within moments you’re tightly gripping onto his horns, mumbling his name in a feverish, drunken haze. Naturally, he can read you like an open book and this truth stands for more intimate matters as well. Leave it to Yuugiri to know what his darling likes best.

Sekiya

Sekiya has been fascinated with you from the moment you stepped into the ancient Tomb. To see the anxious, quiet Kiritsubo happily wag his tail after you and the stern, irritable Murasaki readily at your service…It was a sight most unfamiliar to him and he wondered how a mere human like you managed to whip them into this kind of submission. He refused to believe you’d be stronger than Abe no Nakamaro himself, yet after the battle - from which you emerged victorious - it suddenly occurred to him that it wasn’t fear or obedience coming from the two yokai companions. Just honest, unadulterated love. He felt his chest tighten with envy, all the resentment of being sealed in with an evil, hateful sorcerer finally erupting its way to the surface.

So when you offered him and Sakaki to join you (“What else is left to do among these ruins?”), he couldn’t agree fast enough. To think he, too, could be spoiled with the affections of someone like you. On the other hand, Sekiya is an insecure, nervous wreck of an overthinker and he felt like he couldn’t offer anything worthy in return. He’s a demon that casts barriers. Nothing more, nothing less. He doesn’t have Murasaki’s genius, or Kiritsubo’s raw power, or Suma’s brute strength…What use could you possibly find in him? Hence the constant need for reassurance. He will need you to pull him out of his melancholy every now and then, just a small nudge from the savior he so worships.

It’s an extremely rare occurrence, but Sekiya can get cheeky if his ego is stroked properly. So, for example, he’ll take advantage of the fact you’re both alone in the modern world and show you the handy usage of his barriers: a crowded intersection overflowing with people, and yet no one can see him greedily thrusting into you right in the middle of everything. It’s the high of sprawling you out in public without actually being seen. It’s also one of the reasons you no longer take him furniture shopping. Last time you asked him to help you pick a new table from Ikea and were confused by his requirement of it being “high enough”. Before you could ask for further explanations, the immediate vicinity started twirling into a blur and his heavy arm bent you over the surface. “Let me demonstrate”, he purred in your ear. Sure, no one saw you dripping with his cum, nonetheless scanning the items with your clenched legs and deep crimson face was humiliating enough.

Sakaki

Despite his gift to heal and revive, Sakaki is a terribly miserable demon, often plagued by gloom and death. He is especially receptive to negative emotions, and given your souls are connected, he is the first to detect any change in your mood. (You had to learn to block out the persistent throb of jealousy that tugs at your heart whenever the yokai is particularly insecure.) He takes great pride in the fact that he can understand your sadness better than anyone. The second you feel down, he’ll be right behind you: “Worry not, we shall suffer together. Such is the fate of lovers.”

The first time he joined you back into the modern world, you’ve perhaps mistakenly introduced him to classic literature you assumed he’d like. He indeed became infatuated with authors like Poe, Baudelaire, Rimbaud, Shelley, Hoffmann. For the first time in his long life, Sakaki felt understood, and you’re glad to have played a role in his new interest. Yet you can’t help the shivers running down your spine whenever you become the target of his overflowing, renewed inspiration. Grim, ghastly paintings, deplorably obsessive poems…You’ve unleashed an authentic Romantic poet whose only muse is you.

He’s a master of eerie awkwardness, more so now that he has access to modern entertainment. You were excited when he asked you out on a picnic date, only to discover you’ve been taken to a foggy graveyard. He enthusiastically explained his choice: you can scout burial plots in case one of you dies (he’ll die with you, no worries), it is a stunning reminder that his love for you is eternal, and you might even find potential names if you ever want children. Another time, when you rented a boat during a sunny day at the lake, he cheerfully wondered how you’d look if you were to drown (still as beautiful as ever, he’s certain). Ah, but he does not dwell on dark things only. He recently took you to see the famous Cirque du Soleil and he was equally mesmerized by all the light and colors. It was Corteo: the story of a funeral cortège for a clown.

Sakaki does not like sharing and prefers to hang out with you alone, without the other demons. In fact, he’ll spend the day holed up in his room, writing or painting, or go out on lone walks if he knows you’re messing around with someone. He’d rather not hear anything that would cause him turmoil. The only exception is Sekiya, as they spent decades in isolation together within the sealed Tomb, and they both share a similar lack of confidence. In this case he won’t mind laying you on him and offering the above position to his friend, or casually joining your fun if he sees you together with Sekiya.

[threepandas]

Bad End: My Faithful

Cling. Cling. Sacred bells and jewelry clatter, strike and move, in synch with song. No beat is wasted. No step, anything but sure. Muscles roll in the moonlight. He is beautiful. Enchanting. We gather. Each for different reasons. Each to worship something. As all of us, worship the divine.

The steps having meaning, I am told. They combine into a prayer. Swift and flowing, haunting as it is. His feet are so certain. His movements so graceful. It's no wonder the Gods love him so. His faith shines so purely. The high priest of Nox, beloved child of Night and Mind.

It's appalling, to me, that I should get to see this at all.

Like some cheap dancer on display, the King has demanded he perform, for the "sacred maiden" to witness. Ha. Sacred to WHOM? Certainly not us. The Lumos have been creeping like a sickness. Imbalancing the world, yet daring to proclaim themselves cures. And now? NOW? They have called upon their God to defy the natural order.

An otherworldly soul.

"Sacred", my ass.

She has bewitched the royal family, who already coddled the Lumos. Begun to collect powerful men like trinkets. And now? Now she wants to "learn about the Nox"? Ha! With out a shred of respect! It is because our High Priest is handsome. Because everyone knows that. I... I want to weep. Refuse too, during this sacred Rite.

They have made cheap, lustful spectacle, of one of our most holy rites. A sacred ritual dance. Meant to be perform only in the presence of the inner temple Grand Worshipers. Those who had cleansed themselves and been made pure.

Not... not those who would ogle him. Look upon him like a courtesan dancer.

What threat did they use? What disgraceful tactics? I stand amongst other Priests and Priestess', both in awe and sickened to my core. We have no right to be here. To see this. But... but we WILL. By Nox, none of us will leave.

I gathered as many as I could, when I heard. The purification baths ran from sun down to sun up. We had to borrow every tub we could find. More then a few of us skipping over a day's worth of meals, just to stay pure.

We bunked six or more to a room, traveled for days. But... but by Nox, I gathered them. Every Temple and worshiper I could find. And we are Pure. We are with him. Through us, I hope, Nox is with him, and... and that this ugly desecration of our ways, this foul spectacle, will not mar his soul.

I pray.

Watch, disgusted, as the so called Sacred Maiden "ooos and aaahs" like this is some festival event. Eating food as she blushes and ogles a holy man. The royal family around her, having the audacity to openly look bored. Only the youngest prince refuses food, wear properly dark colors. Treats this as the uncomfortable, twisted, but still holy event that it IS.

Perhaps all is not lost.

The Dance ends.

She has the audacity to CLAP.

The Lumos worshipers in the crowd begin to follow her lead, before noticing the appalled stares from our side. They awkwardly trail off. The youngest prince has closed his eyes in horror. You do NOT make NOISE after the Dance. You LISTEN, in a moment of silence, for the wisdom of Nox, as you consider your troubles.

Why don't you spit in our God's FACE next, you wretch!

You've done EVERYTHING ELSE.

Oblivious, she excitedly chatters, loudly, to her Royal lover. Points down to the High Priest in clear question and intent. No. NO. Absolutely NOT! I could not stop this travesty, but I would rather die at this point, then see it go further.

I step forward. Crossing the unspoken ritual line. My fellow Worshipers inhale sharply. What am I DOING? Have I gone insane? They must wonder. Perhaps I have. So be it. But from the corner of my eye, I see the Lumos harlot bouncing down from her viewing box, dragging along an indulgent royal. Entitled and presumptuous, they have taken ENOUGH.

My hand comes up to my night cloak. Ceremonial, yes, but beautifully indistinct. The wearer could be anyone. My strides lengthen. No more. By Nox, there will be no more.

His Holiness stands where the final step left him, head tilted back in prayer, eyes closed. Face somber in the face of this great insult. He has not bowed before such indignity, as what son of the Gods ever would? Before a mere King.

We, by all rights, should never meet. I am a simple, small time, temple keeper. A handful of Worshipers at best. But my faith can not, WILL NOT, let me stand idle. My presumption is unacceptable... but allowing His Holiness to be drooled over like meat? Be treated like a novelty and toy, to be trotted out for some Lumos woman's amusement? That is unthinkable.

I murmur apologies, even as I drape my cloak around his shoulders, raise the hood. Turn and guild him, gently but with insistence, back towards my fellow Worshipers. The Royals have noticed. Call for me to stop.

Not once do I break stride. They can call all they like. I will not.

The others have figured out my plan, simple as it is. Their loyalty is without question. Gently they drift forward, as though simply making room for each other. Parting to allow us into the crowd. Swallowing us instantly. A cloak is thrown over me by an older Priest, a spare, it seems. I nod. Keep walking.

His Holiness has lost his somberness, his touch of anger. The cold blade-like bite of rage. His arm slides around mine. Merely two Worshipers, out for a stroll. The curl of amusement at the edges of his lips. Behind us, Royal gaurds are roughly shoving people out of the way. The Nox are not making it easy.

Enough is enough.

Down the road, gaudy Lumos gaurds have cut off the path. Their precious little Maiden wants her amusement. If she seeks to meet a holy man? Then it does not matter that he is not for her to meet, that his faith has rules and traditions to adhere too. The spoiled child must have her toys. The burning light will consume as it pleases.

Ritualisticly painted fingers slid between mine. A cool hand, humming with power, gentle as it gripped my own. Startled, I looked down. His Holiness was holding my hand. His grip having casually slide down, even as he remained intertwined. He leaned, as we passed by an alley, nudging me into it. Swinging around me, on dancer's feet, to lightly brush the brickwork edge of the entrance with his other hand.

The one that was solid black, as a night without stars.

All light disappeared.

Behind us, I could hear the noise and fuss of the street. But only a few steps in? It disappeared. Everything hushing, like a heavy blanket upon the night. The stone beneath us... not cobbled. Not brickwork either. A Worshiper of the Light, I imagine, would be terrified. But I? I was in AWE.

It was the Night, concentrated. Shadows and darkness, yet I could see. Holy in its silence. It's quiet contemplation. There... there were colors, here, that I could not begin to name. A softness. Yet? A danger.

This was a place that would entice you. Call to you. Invite you to ponder and rest. Have no concern for the harsh light of day, the trouble of man. You could wander forever. Never to return. Sleep for centuries, uninterrupted. It was no wonder, that Nox did not grant this wonder to the common disciple. The strength His Holiness would need, not to go mad? To become lost? Was unimaginable.

I turned to him, certain the wonder must be painted on my face. My jaw on the floor. He seemed delighted by my reaction. A charmed look on his face. I had so many questions. Was uncertain I was even allowed to ask. Where would I even begin? Could I even begin?

"Ask," he allowed, voice soft and inviting. Tucking my arm close. Then moving to slide his arm around my body, no doubt to guide me. "I will-"

"YOU."

The word snapped and cracked through the air, like a great shattering. A command and accusation. It echoed in my bones, rattled in my soul, even as the silence if this place swallowed it's edges. I froze, midstep. Because... because that was impossible. That voice. It could not possibly be behind me.

Because....

His Holiness was standing right next to me.

"Unhand that child, you wretched thing!" Came the command from behind us. The cadence unmistakable, the sheer presence, impossible to match. I had attended enough sermons to know. "Did you think I would not find you?! Not see the chaos you cause in my name? I am not so blind!"

"....aren't you?"

That was not his Holiness voice.

Fear, like the branching death of a lightning strike, shoots through me. Horror and panic, crashing together in a suffocating dance, that commands me to move. Now. NOW! Move!!

I try to jerk away from the imposter next to me. Only to find that I can not. My body pressed against his side, like lovers on a stroll. When? When did he?! How did I not notice!? No. I DID notice. But thought nothing of it! Because His Holiness would never act untoward. Is a respectful and holy man. Oh Nox! But this is not-!

"Now look what you've done. You've upset her. How rude of you, Priest of Nox." Chides the imposter, even as my breath picks up. As I struggle harder, to no avail. No! No no NO! Help me! Somebody-! PLEASE!

His other arm comes up as he turns towards me, about to wrap around me like a cage. I feel tears begin to burn my eyes. Betrayal and fear, confusion and horror, what... what is HAPPENING!?

A shard a night, black and filled with stars, sings death and it shoots between us. Forcing the imposter to lean back. Away from me. The first is followed by a hail of more. Making him step back. One step. Two. Giving me just enough room to struggle free and stumble back.

"Keep your lustful eyes away from that child, Priest of Kháos! You have perverted, desecrated, enough! You will go no further."

Never had I so much as heard, much less seen, the High Priest in such a fury. And it WAS him. It could be no one else. He wore his robe, in full, prayer paint delicate across his face and hands. Starlight clung to his night black hair, danced in his eyes. He was a moon, a light, in this softly shadowed place. How... how could I have mistaken the imposter for him?

Desperately, I tried to run to his side. That pillar of strength, of faith, that would guide me through this nightmare. I barely got two steps. My cloak captured in an unshakable grip.

"Ah~ ah~ ah~, none of that, dear. We're not done." The imposter said, voice light and scolding. As though I was just being silly and difficult, not struggling desperately to escape. "And we were doing so well! Didn't you like me, dear? You were so thoughtful and charming. So cute! I've certainly come to like~ you~♡"

My terrified gaze met his Holiness', in both forever and an instant. There was fear for me there. Strength. Determination. The eyes of the man that had lead us all. With kindness and hope, faith and compassion. A brother and father and friend. I... I could see the exact moment... he decided.

He lunged forward, holy blade surging into being. Cutting through my cloak.

"GO!" He shouted. "RUN! Nox be with you!"

I run.

The silence is consumed behind me. Crashing and clanging. Whoosing and booms. The sounds of great, terrible battle between the powerful. All I can do... all I can hope to do? Is get to a safe distance. Survive this madness. Believe in his Holiness. He will win. He... he MUST win! He is the High Priest of Nox. A child beloved by the gods. He... he MUST win...

Right?

The shadows hide me, and for that I amgrateful, but they also hide all paths beneath my feet. The soft darkness is endless. Running, running, running. Long after it all falls to silence. Even as my lungs burn and my legs cramp. I... I don't know where I am. Can no longer hold back my tears.

What have I DONE?

I brought the loyal to the filthy alter of an imposter. A false idol. I have made apostates of the faithful, lead them astray! Nox, forgive me, I have betrayed my own family! Your people! I sob, curling into myself. I... I didn't mean too! I swear!

Alone, I pray in the dark.

Eventually though, my tears run dry, and all I can do... is wait.

I can not escape this place under my own power. No amount of running will find an exit. And sooner or later? Either there will be a victor... or both His Holiness and the Imposter will perish, and I will starve. Or perhaps be lost to this place? I do not know. All I can do, now, is... is face it with dignity. Wait. Pray.

.......alone.

Steps. Playful and almost dancing. Skipping and swirling erratically to a beat all their own. Discordant humming, three different song all at once, overlapping poorly. Dread seeps through my veins. I... I do not recognize the voice. Yet, I do. If it were to... to pretend to be...? Oh Nox.

"Darling~, there you are! My, my, you ran quite the distance! Didn't you?" The jingle of bells and discordant voices, shifting together as he speaks. I feel frozen. But that does not save me. The imposter merely meandering and dancing his way around, to loom directly above me. "Found~ you~, ha ha!"

As though it were a joke and not a horror. My vision filled with bright and garish colors. Bells and scarves. My cloak, like damning accusation, still draped around the liars shoulders. Eye level to a belt of many different sized bells and beads, I look up. A terrible smile lays in wait there, to greet me. Covetous and manic. Filled with rending teeth.

"You know the problem with assumptions, sweetness? It's the risk that you could be wrong! You go into a situation, think to yourself 'oh, I'm just gonna face off against a boring, lame little priest, like me!' when in REALITY? Your about to pick a fight with something so, SO much better."

"See," the imposter squats, as though about to reveal a secret, just between the two of us. "Cutey," A claw tipped had comming up to slide across my cheek before with a light pat, he decided to grip it. "Kháos? Oh He doesn't HAVE a high priest. No, no! Why waste the time? The effort! You gotta train those. And it's SO easy it lose um."

An exaggerated mockery of sorrow, before the grin returned.

"No, see, Kháos? HE has an AVATAR~! Isn't that fun? And you'll never guess, sweet, who that avatar is~. Go on. Guess." I was frozen. The level of power he was suggesting... oh Nox. No. Please, no. His Holiness was... "That's right! ME. Such a smart girl~! And you know what I've always wanted to do? Steal a pretty little priestess of my very own!"

"You and me? Well get along nicely, sweetheart. You're gonna covert great~♡"

There was no way out. The grip on my face threatened to bruise. All I could see was sharp, sharp teeth and a mad man's grin. Oh, Nox! Oh, NOX! Someone, anyone! Please! Even the Lumos at this point! I called out... but nothing answered.

"Worship at my alter. Just you and me, dear! I can't wait to burn the world down!"

"Now, close your eyes, give us a kiss, and let's pray, m'kay~♡?"

[delulustateofmind]

Devotion

Yandere Angel x Reader

TW: Yandere Behaviors, virginity loss/blood (dubcon), unbalanced power dynamic. Stockholm Syndrom MDNI

WC: 2k

Thinking about yandere angels with egos so inflated they see themselves as gods.

The kind who can’t fathom the idea of not being adored, especially by someone as soft and radiant as you, a devoted priestess. The kind of angel who sees their love for you not as a flaw, but as something divine, even when it starts to consume them.

And when you don’t reciprocate their devotion? It’s not just rejection—it’s blasphemy. They feel it etching into their very being, carving itself into the rings of their eyes like a new deadly sin. A longing so raw and agonizing, it sears through them. It’s a pain so unbearable they’d rather fall from the heavens than endure it a second longer.

Perhaps revealing his true form had been a mistake.

But what else could he have done? How else could he show you the depth of his devotion, the unbearable weight of his love?

In his human guise, he was nothing to you. Just another man, no different from the others who worked the gardens or sang praises in the temple halls. You brushed off his lingering touches like they were nothing, turned away from his yearning gaze like he wasn’t even there. And oh, how that hurt.

He’d watch you, always. Watched as you laughed with the other priestesses, your voice soft and melodic as you hummed prayers to the heavens, your hands weaving blossoms into garlands with such delicate grace.

Prayers that should have been meant for him.

But he wasn’t just a man. He wasn’t one of your temple brethren, desperate for a glance or a kind word. He was your god. Your salvation. The very reason the flowers bloomed beneath your feet and the sun graced your skin.

And yet, as he watched you twirl in the flower fields, silken gown catching the breeze and hair glowing in the golden rays of sunlight, he felt so small.

You were his god.

The thought burned in his chest, an unbearable ache that clawed at him from within. It was wrong, this feeling. A god should not feel small. A god should not bow before his creation. And yet, you reduced him to something lesser, something aching and hollow, longing for your gaze as though your love alone could sustain him.

He needed you.

It was not a want, not a passing desire, but a hunger that carved itself into the very marrow of his existence. With every moment you didn’t see him, his divine power faltered, his wings feeling heavier, his light dimmer. You, with your radiant smile and unknowing grace, held his entire existence in your hands.

He craved you with a desperation that bordered on worship. Your laughter became his gospel, your touch his sacrament. And yet, you remained oblivious to the storm raging within him, to the pain that ripped through him each time your gaze lingered anywhere but on him.

So, he showed you.

When his true form unraveled before you, it was both agony and ecstasy. Rings of infinite, burning eyes opened, each one fixing on you, devouring you. Wings, vast and unknowable, unfurled with such force they bent the air around them, casting the gardens into shadow. His presence was no longer something soft or gentle—it was overwhelming, a tidal wave of light and fury.

And his voice. Oh, his voice.

It was a symphony, both terrible and beautiful, a sound that split the air and reverberated in the depths of your soul. He whispered your name as though it were a hymn, each syllable imbued with a longing so profound it cracked the heavens. The sound carried with it the weight of eternity, the desperate prayer of a being who had waited lifetimes for this moment.

He saw the way you froze, the way your body trembled beneath the weight of his presence. He saw the fear in your eyes, the way your hands clutched at your chest as though trying to shield your very soul. And though it was not what he wanted—not the love he yearned for—it was enough.

Because in that moment, you saw him.

Not the man who lingered in the temple halls, nor the one whose hands you brushed off without a second thought. You saw him, in all his infinite, incomprehensible glory.

And for the first time, he felt whole.

When he was done, when he had felt like you had enough, when the brilliance of his true form faded and he returned to his human shell, he found you crumpled before him, your body trembling, your cheeks stained with tears. He crouched down, his hands shaking as he touched you, soft as a supplicant before the altar.

“Don’t cry,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the salt on your skin. “Do not be afraid.”

But even showing you the divinity of his existence. A very god from the heavens, etched from the stars. Wasn’t enough. Even as he kissed you, his hands desperate to hold you closer, even as your body slackened in his arms, he could feel the gap between you. He could feel your terror, your fragility, the way you couldn’t understand the vastness of his love.

It hurt. It hurt more than anything he had ever known.

Because you were his god, the very reason for existing, the only thing that could fill the endless void inside him. And yet, you recoiled. You trembled in his embrace as though he were something monstrous.

“Why do you fear me?” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Can’t you see what you are to me? You’re everything.”

As his hands clutched you tighter, not in anger but in desperation, as if letting go would shatter him entirely. He had shown you all he was, stripped himself bare for you. And still, you slipped through his grasp like sand.

Was it so wrong for him to need you? To worship you? To crave you so deeply that it hollowed his very soul?

You were his god, and he was your broken disciple. And he would make you see it. 

Because no god could abandon their most devoted follower.

“I’ll follow you,” he repeated, his voice soft, almost fragile as if the thought of losing you was enough to unmake him. “Even if I must crawl through fire, through darkness so deep it swallows me whole. Even if I lose everything—my wings, my grace, my very name—I’ll find you. I’ll carve myself into the marrow of your soul, so deeply that we will never be parted. Not in this life, not in the next. You are mine, and I am yours.”

His words weren’t sweet, loving promises. His hands, so gentle yet unrelenting, cupped your face as his eyes—those eyes that had seen the infinite—bore into yours. You wanted to look away, to pull back from the intensity of his gaze, but you couldn’t. His grip, his presence, held you captive in ways that went beyond flesh and bone.

At first, the fear of his true form had been enough to keep you pliant. The memory of those rings of burning eyes, that overwhelming presence that seemed to consume the very air, kept you rooted in place. Every brush of his hand, every whispered word, reminded you of what lay beneath the façade of humanity he wore so convincingly. You stayed because to resist felt like courting annihilation.

But his devotion wasn’t soft; it was desperate to carve you into another deadly sin.

The garden where you once found solace, where you sang hymns to the heavens and tended to flowers in peaceful devotion, had become something else entirely. A space no longer sacred but defiled by his love—if love it could be called.

He cornered you there, amidst the blooms that once symbolized purity, now crushed beneath your bodies. His hands gripped yours, pinning them to the earth as though to tether you to him, to make you an unshakable part of his existence. His gaze, burning with that unholy light, pierced into your very soul.

The petals beneath you, soft and fragrant, carried the cruel irony of the moment. They dampened with blood—your blood—staining the earth that had once been a place of worship. His movements, though deliberate, carried a desperation, a need to stake his claim not just over your body, but over your very being.

After all, at the end of the day, he was still a man.

"You were always meant to be mine," he whispered, voice trembling between fevered thrusts. "Even the gods know it—even the stars themselves. You were made for me, the greatest of all creations."

When the act was over, he didn’t release you. His arms wrapped around you tightly, his touch gentle yet suffocating. His lips pressed fevered kisses to your tear-streaked cheeks, murmuring promises that felt more like prayers to an unseen deity.

“You’re my salvation,” he murmured, his voice trembling against your skin. “But I’ll make myself your sin. I’ll weave myself into you, body and soul until no part of you is untouched by me.”

Somehow you stayed. Not because you wanted to. Not because you loved him.

Afraid of the being who could unmake you with a single thought. Fearful of the burning rings of eyes, the suffocating wings, and the divine madness that simmered beneath his human shell.

Yet as the days turned into weeks, something within you shifted.

The fear dulled, and softened, like a blade losing its edge. His touch, once suffocating, became something else—a tether, a strange comfort that you found yourself confiding in. He was everywhere, a constant shadow over your life- a guardian angel in your wake. 

And then, one day, you kissed him.

It was small, barely more than a fleeting brush of lips, but it was enough. Enough to send him reeling, enough to ignite something that burned brighter than the heavens he once called home.

The kind of kiss that left him frozen, his breath catching as though the world had stopped spinning.

“You… kissed me,” he murmured, a voice trembling with something that sounded like disbelief, as though the act had unraveled his very being. Something that should have been so meaningless, he clutched onto for dear life. 

You didn’t respond—not with words, not with an explanation. But it didn’t matter to him. It never did. His lips were on yours again before you could even think, fervent and desperate, his hands clutching at you as though you might vanish if he dared let go. There was no restraint, no hesitation, only the consuming need to feel you, to know you were his.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, you found yourself responding—not out of love, not out of desire, but something more primal, more insidious. Survival, you told yourself. A way to keep him calm, to keep the fire that burned behind his eyes from engulfing you.

But deep down, you knew it wasn’t that simple.

You weren’t just surviving. You were falling.

Falling deeper into the pits of hell, where the flames would soon lick at your skin the way his lips did, consuming you in their unbearable heat. Vines of need and possession twisted around your heart, constricting your breath until the only thing left was him—his touch, his words, his presence.

“I love you,” he whispered in the dead of night, his voice trembling with reverence so raw it made your skin crawl. “I love you more than the stars, more than the heavens themselves. I love you more than I was ever meant to love anything.”

Sometimes, you would murmur back—a soft acknowledgment, a sound that wasn’t quite rejection but wasn’t acceptance either. You weren’t sure what it was anymore. A concession? A survival tactic? Or the first crack in the fragile walls you’d built to keep him at bay?

This life wasn’t enough for him, and soon, you realized, it wouldn’t be enough for you either. He had made you his, not just in this moment, but in every moment that would ever exist. In this life and the next. In every breath, every form, every fleeting heartbeat until the end of time.

And when the stars themselves burned out, when the heavens crumbled and turned to dust, you would still be there with him. Even as stardust, you knew, that sweet angel would find a way to intertwine himself with you.

Characters:

JJK: Gojo, Geto, Kenjaku

AOT: Eren (post time-skip), Zeke, Ymir

BNHA: Hawks, Overhaul, Dabi

Alien Stage: Luka

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Now See Them Burn in Fire | Teaser 2

Beomgyu frowns. “You don’t visit me anymore.”

You scoff. “It is not proper for an unwed woman to meet strange men in the night.” And in any case you would never visit him.

“You meet Kai.”

“That is not your concern.” You hiss at him. Kai is the reason you must end whatever this is. He is one of the boys who have given you a gift. He is the son of the tribe’s leader. You would be crazy to turn him down and even crazier to let whatever delusional fancy Beomgyu holds for you ruin your chances with him.

“Why did that make you angry? Are you letting him do things to you that you know you shouldn’t?” He confronts you, expression unnervingly blank. “Are you letting him under your skirts?”

You raise your hand up and slap him, watching a red handprint bloom across his handsome face that scowls as he reaches out and grabs the arm that hit him. You try to hit him again with your other hand but he grabs that too and you scuffle. He easily overpowers you. He was still trained in the warrior way despite him quitting years ago, and he pushes you down on the grass, climbing over you and pinning your hands above your head with one hand, using the other to cradle your face.

“Do you let him kiss you?” He asks you, face still blank apart from a muted curiosity. He was so close you can see every individual eyelash framing his gorgeous dark eyes, every tiny blemish on his otherwise flawless skin, the elegant slope of his nose, the firm but soft pillowing of his lips.

“Fuck you.” You spit out, unwilling to give him the answer he already knows.

“So you have.” He swipes his thumb across your bottom lip. “Then it’s only fair if I get a taste too.”

[ne-videl]

𝓾𝓷𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓪𝓵 𝓶𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓪𝓰𝓮

♡

yandere Poseidon x fem reader

hide your tears and smile, little goddess.

yandere, unhealthy relationships, objectification, angst, power imbalance, depressed reader, forced marriage, poor english, sfw. first half – Poseidon's pov, then yours.

word count: ~1.5k

a/n: hii everyone!! how have you been? I have no ideas. like, absolutely. art block I guess?? anyway, have some of my old stuff. this is my least favorite yandere trope, but I love angst, so sometimes I go for it. by the way, when I first started it, I wanted to write a super idolized fluff but... well, we have what we have, or "why you don't want to marry Poseidon". hehe big booba man hehehe

the endless ocean is noisy outside the huge windows.

today, the sea sings a memorial service for you.

two people at the altar – the god and his bride.

Poseidon wants to smile rapaciously at her shaking figure.

she's afraid, poor thing. who wouldn't be afraid? he is, after all, the god of all gods, known for his cruel and merciless temper, the lord of the seas.

and she will become his lady very soon.

[name].

her name spreads like ambrosia across his lips.

even her name is so ordinary, so human, as, indeed, everything else about his charming wife.

she was a priestess in Poseidon's temple: in his own, so there's nothing wrong in taking what was already his. he noticed her by accident.

[name] was sitting hunched over, touching some bright flowers with her bruised palms. he liked to visit this temple sometimes: it was quiet and peaceful in the atrium, noisy humans did not flicker before his eyes.

little human girl did not even flinch when he silently stood next to her, only continued to look with big and very sad eyes at the colorful flower bed.

at their second meeting, she greeted him.

at the third time, she dared to start an idle conversation.

the fourth, and she talked about life in the temple.

at the fifth time she asked why he was coming here.

Poseidon always stood silently next to her, looming over her like a suffocating shadow. he was amused by her chattering, and, unexpectedly for himself, found her presence soothing, pleasant, unlike other humans, the mere sight of whom made the eye of the deity twitch.

life was bad for her in the temple.

[name] told him, she was sent to this place when she was still a girl, and she spent her whole life by the cold blue sea.

new head of the temple did not like her, saying that there was nothing for women to do here. that she should get married, but who needs her?

Poseidon saw the marks of beatings on her girlish body.

so he took her with him. she served in temple made in his name, spent her short life at his domain – it is quite natural that she will become his wife.

of course, it is unheard of that god marries a human – but does he really need someone's approval?

ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______

Hades advised to propose to her. it's the way humans do it.

Poseidon did not ask for her consent, for him it was just a formality: of course she would say yes, he was sure.

he will dress her in the finest silks, she will own the most beautiful jewels on all Olympus, the sea itself would be at her feet – how could a human girl want more?

smile spreads across his face as he sees her eyes widen, as she begins to shake – no doubt, from embarrassment – and his palm rests protectively on top of her head.

of course she agreed, how could it be any other way?

his fiancee is incredibly sweet. but weak and naive at the same time, like the rest of the human race. but he will protect her, give her a better life.

she must be very grateful to him.

ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______

Poseidon remembers their wedding well, how [name] looked in amazement at the beauty of Atlantis, at the greatness of his seas.

in white robes, with downcast eyes, she swore an oath binding her life forever to a cruel deity, accompanied by singing of nymphs and the sound of the ocean.

she was now a goddess herself, whether she wanted to or not. of course, she wanted to, it couldn't be any other way. she loves him.

and, as the new lady of the seas, she will spend her now eternal life by his side. Poseidon will make sure of this no matter what.

she fearfully puts her small palm into his, while he, her husband, leads her through the corridors of the palace. [name] is silent. probably still embarrassed.

from now on, she will be the most beautiful ornament of his possessions, the shining pearl of Atlantis – his precious property, belonging only to him. and the sparkling ring on her tiny finger was proof.

ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______

"wife." – [name] immediately turns around, smiles, comes closer.

his hand rests on her waist, his grip firm, possessively strong. she doesn't notice.

or pretends not to notice.

over time, [name] got used to him, cheered up, blossomed. it couldn't have been any other way, right?

songs, dances appeared, bright flowers and ringing laughter in the cold and empty corridors.

she became friends with his brothers, was able to conquer the proud Aphrodite, whom she now called her friend with visible joy.

Poseidon is pleased to consider himself a good husband.

he loves to see his wife smiling, laughing.

even if it's not just with him. it's better to be patient for a while, he thinks, than to lose her cheerful chatting for the whole evening.

though, she's cute even when she's angry.

Poseidon was gentle with her. allowed her much, much more than others, even spoiled her. [name] was his wife, after all, so he had to make sure she looked good enough.

he's a good husband.

[name] never contradicted him, never raised her adorable voice at him, never was not too selfish.

although deep down, he would like her to become more spoiled. so that, like him, she would not tolerate anyone's presence, except, of course, her husband.

to think of it, why would she need anyone besides him? she can be quite happy within the walls of the palace.

Poseidon dismissed these thoughts from himself – for some reason, his wife liked to be in society, even if without him.

well, he's willing to put up with her quirks as long as she knows who should come first for her.

ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______

the outfit given by Aphrodite was very becoming to his spouse. Poseidon loved to see her beautiful.

in luxurious clothes, undoubtedly worthy of the wife of a sea god, or in the warm candlelight in the night darkness of their shared bedroom, happy or shedding tears, [name] was equally beautiful.

the precious treasure of Atlantis.

he was never moved by her tears – even if she was crying, of course she loved him anyway. [name] is happy. so why make a big deal about it?

none of the pathetic mortals could take care of her like he did. none of them would love her the way he does.

"you are my wife. you're not going anywhere."

ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______

you didn't tell anyone about your sorrow: didn't share it with anyone – neither with Aphrodite, nor with the nymphs and mermaids, your husband's brothers remained in the dark too.

a little human girl shedding tears by the huge waves.

an unhappy goddess, forever imprisoned in an cold palace, surrounded by hypocritical deities, in the iron grip of an unloved husband, eaten alive by sadness and suffocating hopelessness of her position.

none of them saw you as an equal: you were only a curious little thing, a way to dispel eternal divine boredom, and the Olympians, of course, did not bother to hide this fact.

you didn't know what your husband found in you, and you didn't want to. sometimes you wished that back then, many, many years ago, he would have left you in that temple, or that you would run from the garden in terror, or anything. anything.

ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______

you knew your place well.

by his side, always, no matter what. from the very day when you stood at the altar and did not dare to raise your eyes to your fiance, you were no longer anything human.

from that moment, you became an ornament, a property, a beautiful doll. nothing more.

Poseidon wanted to see you happy – and you smiled, laughed, you did everything that you thought he would like.

are you satisfied? please tell me you're happy. I'm scared.

scared.

your husband allowed you the freedom he thought his property could have, and you greedily soaked up every drop of it.

you're lucky, you told yourself, you're very, very lucky. It could have been worse. any other girl would give her soul to be in your place, – repeated, looking at your own reflection in the cold glitter of jewelry.

you must be like it yourself. a thing. a thing, of course, must have an owner, and a thing cannot be sad.

Poseidon's cold hand rests on your waist, pulls you into his arms, and you do not allow yourself to resist: you exhale into his neck, placing your small palms on his broad back.

your spouse is purring contentedly.

he's happy. you can relax a little.

ʚ♡⃛ɞ ______

sea nymphs comb your hair, weave pearls into thin braids, fold strands into an intricate hairstyle.

"what's bothering you, madam?" – the lady of the seas does not bother to answer, your dead calm gaze wanders over the high ceilings, walls and huge windows of your chambers.

a common topic of idle conversation among the Olympians was Poseidon's boundless adoration for his charming wife. cruel god who fell in love with a mere mortal – what a beautiful story.

even the ocean itself seemed to dote on you. whenever the warm waves caressed your feet on the coast, your dried-up insides were filled with melancholy. your body was here, in Atlantis, which became a prison for you, and your soul, which remained to pain in your chest human, floated far away. your tired mind wandered, and you are a little girl again, and once again the bright sun warms your childishly plump cheeks, and in your hands are colorful flowers, and the kind grandpa from the temple strokes your head.

Poseidon will be coming for you soon – as always.

as always, you will talk about something, laugh, sitting on his lap in the throne room. or in one of the living rooms, or in the bedroom – you were not allowed to leave him without permission.

you flinched when you felt his strong hand on your shoulder.

Poseidon smirked.

his wife is not going anywhere. she will stay with him.

forever.

not the best one of my works but uh well I felt like posting something

maaybe will be deleted since it doesn't look as good as I thought it would be in english

btw thinking about writing tartaglia fic soo the next one is probably gonna be genshin man again

thanks for reading!!

[batsythoughts]

NO RUSH

Another request I had in mind

Romantic Yandere Batfamily x female priestess reader with healing powers.

Summary: Reader is a beautiful and kind person who lives in Gotham, and goes to school there. She is a senior that is in an archery club that she loves so much and everyone in school likes her and is very nice to her there. The batboys(along with duke,cassandra,and Stephanie) also happened to go to school there(I will let you pick what grade they are in because i would know where to set them). When they accidentally bump into reader they could not take their eyes off her. While walking home from schol she see(choose any fam member) injured and helped them back to her home(lives in a shrine). When they wake up they are very grateful for her help and goes back to the manor to come up with a plan to bring you back to the manor,so you could be safe with them.

Sorry for long summary,and this is the priestess outfit reader is going to wear:

Gotham High school outfit:

This is such a unique request and I absolutely love it! I know it says romantic, but I made it platonic because I read it that way when I wrote this, so I hope that is alright. I hope to do your request justice.

Enjoy Yandere Batfam x Priestess Reader!

To say that Bruce was expecting his kids to have a normal school year was an understatement

He was very hopeful that they would all manage to get by without any 'life altering' incidents, as Dick had called it

Luckily, the only thing that would cause the most stress would be the fact that Dick was finally graduating this year, signaling the end of an era

The first day back, half of the kids were excited to meet up with with friends while the other half were dreading having to do homework in the first week back

So, after Alfred straightened out all of their appearances for a family picture, the children got sent on their way to school

When they got the school, Dick made sure they all stuck together so he could see each of them into their homeroom class

After finally getting to his classroom for first period, Dick chatted with the friends he had in that class

He looked around the room before his eyes landed on a girl sitting near one of the corners, talking with a few other students while waiting for class to begin

He discreetly asked his friends who you were, not remembering you from the previous years in school

One of them explained how you moved to Gotham last year to live in the temple that was near the edge of town

Another mentioned how they were surprised that he didn't know about you with how popular you became around the school in such a short tine

Dick simply shrugged as he kept staring before you glanced over and sent him a polite wave

He waved back slightly awkwardly as the teacher finally demanded the students attention

By the time it was ready for everyone to get to their next class, Dick had thought of fun conversations starters to use to try and get to know you

His plan didn't work as you both got guided in different directions in the sea of students moving to their next class

All throughout the day, he tried finding you again with no luck to his multiple attempts

After the school day finally ended, the kids were all walking back home and discussing things that happened during the day

It was all going well until a bit of playful rough housing between Jason and Duke caused both boys to lose balance

Jason was able to steady Duke before he went down, but stepped too far over the curb and lost his own balance

Everyone watched Jason face plant into the concrete, each of them laughing for a short time as he pushed himself back up

The laughter stopped when they saw a small bit of blood trickling down the side of their brothers' face

Dick began fussing as he kneeled down to assess how bad the injury was that he would have to explain to Bruce

Before he could begin to overreact, you suddenly came rushing over from down the street and asking if everything was alright

Dick quickly explained the situation while placing his hand over the wound on Jason's head

You nod along as you stopped Dick's hand to assess the damage for yourself, before mentioning that you could help them at the temple

He began thanking you while organizing everyone else together as you helped Jason stand up

No one argued as they got rushed towards the temple and told the rules for their short visit

Once arriving, you gestured towards a sitting room that they could use while you took Jason and Dick to a different room further in the temple

You showed them a small room and told them to wait while going through a different door

Dick gave Alfred a quick call to inform him that they would be late getting home before shifting his focus entirely on Jason

You came back into the room a few minutes later in a traditional outfit that the inhabitants of the temple wore. "Sorry for making you wait. The temple rules require me to change as soon as I return from school."

"No, it's completely fine," Dick assured as he continued worrying over Jason. "I should have stopped the two of them the moment it started. Now I have to explain to Bruce how Jason came home with scar on his head after the first day back at school."

You gave a small chuckle as you kneeled beside Jason, gently placing a hand over the busted skin. "Not a thing to worry about. The worst that will happen to him is a bad headache."

Jason looked confused as he glanced between you and Dick. "How's that possible? I hit my head pretty- OH THAT TINGLES!"

You gave a small hum while gently rubbing Jason's temple. Smiling as you reach over to grab a few wet wipes. "There we go. You should be all better now after a little clean up."

They both looked bewildered as you carefully wiped the blood that was drying onto his skin. Dick staring blankly at the unblemished spot on his head.

"How did... what was... huh?"

You laughed at the confusion on both of their faces. Cleaning up the materials you used as you allowed Jason time to regain his bearings. "I was born with the ability to heal injuries from others. I was given up at a young age to be raised by residents of the temples. I came to reside in this one after the last one sadly had to shut down."

Jason gave a nod as he felt around at the spot that your hand had previously touched. "Well that was amazing! Thank you so much. Bruce would have a worried episode if any of us got a blemish of any kind."

After helping both of them off the ground, you begin leading them down the hallway. Helping gather the others and beginning to lead them out.

Before they left, Dick turned to you with a kind smile. "Thank you again. You should come over for dinner sometime so we can properly thank you."

The look on your face became solemn as you shook your head. "I have to decline on the offer. The temple doesn't allow me to be away for too long unless it involves school or the archery club."

He gave a low hum as his disappointment settled in. Soon turning to leave with the rest of the family. Though they all stopped when Stephanie and Cass went up to you.

"Cass and I wanted to say that you look very pretty in your outfit," Stephanie declared with Cass standing behind her with a small nod of her head.

The smile returned as you glanced at the two younger girls. "Thank you. You both are very beautiful yourselves. Now hurry home with your brothers."

They rushed to Wayne Manir soon after that in order to beat Bruce there

That were able to with 20 minutes to spare, leaving Dick enough time to make sure they all promised not to tell that Jason had previously been injured

When Alfred had inquired about what had caused the delay, Dick said that they ran into a classmate and walked them home

When Bruce got home, he made each of the children give a small run down of how their first day was

It was all going well until Duke and Stephanie began asking if they could join the archery club when sign ups began

Bruce said it was okay, but asked why they suddenly had an interest in joining

They gave a quick explanation that they had run into you on the way home and heard you say you were in it and thought it would be interesting to try it out themselves

Dick made eye contact with Bruce before explaining that he didn't think it was right to have you walk alone in Gotham

To his relief, Bruce gave a approved nod and moved on to the next topic without any more questions

The next couple of weeks were a blur as each of the kids began to sign up for the activities they would do for the year

Dick even began to speak to you more often by using Duke and Steph wanting to know what equipment that they would need for archery

You made a small list for basic things and brands to look at if they wanted to have decent equipment

The moment that sign-ups were open, Duke and Stephanie got the forms and made Bruce sign them that night

The first practice, Jason hung out on the sidelines as he watched his younger siblings excitedly go through the safety basics that all members needed to know

When it came time to learn how to handle the bow, they got paired with you and patiently followed your instructions on where to place their hands

Jason grinned to himself as he watched the happy smiles from a distance

Dick and Tim came in to wait after their own activities concluded before they would get picked up by Bruce

Just as practice was wrapping up, Duke pinched the skin of his hand on accident as he was putting the bow up

You went over to his side and began to inspect the small blister that was beginning to form

Bringing him and Stephanie over to the other boys before taking his injured hand and gave a firm hum

Duke jumped a little before you let go of his hand to reveal no blister anywhere to the bewilderment of the younger three

You made a motion for them to not react and alert the other students in the area to your abilities

Everyone waited outside for Bruce to get there after getting Cass from ballet and Damian from fencing

You waited outside with them until Bruce finally came pulling up and all the kids climbed in

Bruce offered to give you a ride, but you declined after saying the temple had a rule that you couldn't accept any rides unless it was for a school trip

They all watched you walk away with concern of you walking alone in Gotham so close to nightfall

The drive back was mostly quiet until the kids started asking why the people in charge were negligent of your safety

Bruce said that there wasn't anything they could do as long as your guardians thought you would be safe

A couple months later that whole thought process changed one day at school

It was the day after the weekly archer practice as Dick watched you walk into the class with a busted lip and a swollen eye

Dick went over and began asking what had happened as you explained that someone tried mugging you on the way back to the temple, but a cop was nearby to stop it

That night, Dick immediately went to Bruce and explained what had happened and that the temple wasn't taking your safety seriously

The other kids began to join in the ruckus as they asked what was going to be done to make sure you would be safe from a repeat of this incident

Bruce told them that he would think of something to try and change a few of the rules the temple so you could at least get rides from them

When he went to talk to them the next day, he got shut down by saying that the ways they followed wouldn't be changed for 'one simple child'

Bruce decided then that they wouldn't be looking after you if they didn't care for your safety

He explained the situation to the kids and that they would have to be quiet about it to everyone else or they could get in trouble

They waited until the night of one of the archery tournaments that would cause the club to return back late at night

You waited for each of the kids parents to pick up their children with the teacher before walking towards the temple

You were focused on getting there quickly, so you didn't notice a car following a couple blocks behind you

After 15 minutes of walking, you went past an alley and two masked men grabbed you and put a bag over your head

The car speed up and the trunk opened before you got thrown in and hands cuffed behind your back

They quickly drove through the city before driving into the garage of Wayne Manor

Bruce and Alfred waited in there for them as they opened the trunk again to pull you out and drag you through the house

Alfred walked in front of them before opening a door for them to let you go in

Bruce gave them a roll of cash and sent them away as he walked in with the key to your cuffs

"Hey, calm yourself. We aren't going to hurt you, only help you," Bruce whispered as he gently unlocked the cuffs. Stepping back as you pulled off the hood and looked around. "You're safe here with all of us."

"Safe? You kidnapped me!" You shout at him while looking for a way out.

Bruce held up his hands as he let you have the space you needed. "That for your safety. That place didn't care that you got hurt. They weren't going to change so it didn't happen again."

"What's all the noise about?" Stephanie stood in the doorway with Tim and Damian standing behind her.

Bruce looked at the kids before clearing his throat. "We are just having a small conversation. Go back to bed kids. It's really late."

"No, we're just talking," you mutter while looking at the floor. "Just go to sleep like you were told. Okay?"

That seemed to put them at ease as they slowly went back to their own rooms. Bruce went to the door before looking back at you again. "Try and sleep a little. We will talk more in the morning."

The next day, the kids went to school acting as if nothing had happened the night before

The absence of your presence was felt throughout the school, but everyone who didn't know better thought you just got a bit sick and were getting rest

Bruce and Alfred attempted to talk to you, but got practically no response from you as they tried explaining why they did it

When the kids returned from school, they said nobody had been concerned about your disappearance because you hadn't been reported missing

You felt slightly distraught from the revelation, but claimed the temple would notice when you didn't return this evening after sundown

When a week passed and the temple still hadn't contacted the police to inform them of your disappearance

The school finally informed the police of your absence, causing them to begin looking into the leadership of the temple that made them wait so long to report it

The authorities shut down the temple after arresting the leaders for negligence and the others were sent to other cities

The family brought you down to watch the news report of the situation and the conference the police

Each of the kids were keeping an eye on you as the detectives in charge explained that they could find no trace of your location and no ransom had been made

Bruce watched your spirits get crushed when they said they assumed you to be dead and would still be looking, but not with as much man power

They all began to comfort you, all while saying that they only wanted you to be safe from the people of the world that didn't care

You gave a defeated sigh while nodding your head as you reached for the remote and turned the TV off

The children started to suggest things to do as a way to bond/take your mind off the news, eagerly dragging you along with smiles

Bruce stood off the side to make sure you weren't getting overwhelmed as the night continued

When he finally sent them all to bed, Bruce stopped at your room last as he gave you a warm hug while saying he was only looking out for you when others didn't

The moment you acknowledge that they were just looking out for you, even if they did go too far with their approach

When he closed the door, he looked down the hall to see all the kids looking out of their rooms expectedly

They all quietly celebrated when Bruce nodded his head, confirming that you accepted your place in their family