Might i ask yandere eli(lunar phase), naib (man in red) and joseph (azrael) seperately for nun reader who kills devils as a living?
Hcs please! Also hope ur day is going well! ^^
Well of course, darling, it would be a great pleasure for me :)
Personally love the concept of yandere!Naib/Eli/Joseph, so yeah, I’d write hc’s with joy. Also thank you very much for your request, it’s very interesting: I adore the dynamic of a holy x obsessively in love demon, and everything, so I’m really pleased with it! My day is quite nice, by the way, but I hope that yours is much better! Wish you like these hc’s, hehe
Includes: nun!reader x yandere!Eli (Lunar phase), nun!reader x yandere!Naib (Man in Red), nun!reader x yandere!Joseph (Azrael) — separated
Warnings: headcanons, yandere, obsession, partly religious themes and interactions, references to murder, blood and violence.
[ "The blood moon brings destruction" was his revelation on the night before the moon dissipates ]
— Eli met you in the marble hall, full of aspirations and revelations. His heart had a mystical light before you, but when your presence enveloped his whole being the world lost its meaning.
— Your calm expression was felt on the edges of his hearing almost physically. It was like a flash of light that lit up the entire universe. He will never forget that moment.
— You hardly spoke, but your voice was like the singing of angels. Ah yes, the moon went through all its phases at the moment when you gently asked Edgar how he was feeling, or when you spoke with Fiona's cards. There was no one kinder than you, although you never smiled, never laughed and remained amazingly calm even during matches.
— Oh, there was no limit to Eli's happiness when you were assigned to the same team! Every time! He didn't notice any obsession behind him, of course, but, in fact, there was a problem. Now he didn’t care about the rest of his teammates at all.
— At first he was a little surprised. Although Eli commanded the connection of stars and the light that reflected from the giant solar ball, and his flesh woven from this radiance felt almost nothing... Before you, he made sure that all members of his team remained under the supervision of an owl. Now he didn't feel the need to it, and the main focus of attention was always on you.
— However, it is worth noting that he tried. Sometimes forgot, but mostly sent an owl to everyone. Mostly rescued others from the chair. Mostly helped when being asked. Mostly… Argh, well, you see, it’s very hard to pretend that he was worried about the fate of his teammates, except yours, so soon he just stopped.
— And maybe it wouldn’t be noticed by himself at all, but the main problem among other "after-Y/N" problems was the fact that you were openly against him.
— During the matches, no Hunter avoided your rifle, especially if that Hunter was someone in a demon form. You greatly hated them. Hated them to death. At the same time, Eli was partly a demon.
— It was lovely to dream about you: so elegant and so distant. Your sacred presence was burning nearby, when he himself was like an ice; there would be no moonlight without the scorching sun after all, so to look from afar and take care of you forever – why not? Eli could certainly do it.
— But you couldn't. You were brought up harshly, radically, your hands were striped with a ruler, fingers were rough, and every movement was honed to the smallest detail - you were never a fragile girl in trouble, because from the position to which life threw you, weakness and inability to cope on your own were available to anyone else except you. Not being able to get rid of the distracting burning sensation in the back of the head, almost boring into the hole? How pathetic.
— Eli didn't approach, just watched; there was nothing wrong with that for him, because everything came from pure care. It's hard to love, but if there is you for him, then it's okay. And he will do everything to make you happy. Even if he has to stay up all night, holding on to a thin cornice by the window and looking into a thin strip between the curtains - he doesn't need sleep anyway, he can be patient. Even if he has to learn you like an open book, learn your schedule, your tastes and interests - there is a lot of space in his head, not that he has time to find something more interesting. Even if he has to hide in the closet while you're lying down after surgery in the medical wing, where they just don't let him in, Eli will do it to make sure that you're okay, no matter how many days he’d stand there. Just let him enjoy from afar, that's the only thing left. Be kind.
— And look: the one who hurt you is now writhing among his own guts. It's incredibly easy to achieve, don’t worry, no one even realized what happened. Hardly they will suspect the unctuous young man in white robes as a murderer, haha!
— As long as you're fine, he's fine, too. Really, he’s even smiling, look! Smile too, smile for him just once!
— He deserves it!
— But when the ouroboros of your health is unexpectedly interrupted, Eli's blind pupils break, and he, lightened by syzygy, tears the enemy with his claws; snow-white feathers frame the disfigured corpse, but no one cares. Eli is a saint. You're a saint. And only you know how the gilded cloth darkens under the dirty blood…
[ Your fear, "his" blood, and one final bout ]
— You weren't afraid of anything. In a monastery with stained-glass vaults and old crumbling whitewash, you found shelter in a stormy night that took the lives of mom, dad and older brother. Later you were told that what attacked them on the way was a demon.
— To believe in this fairy tale at first seemed utter nonsense. Really, demons? Why then did the angels not descend and pierce them with golden arrows of pure justice, ha? However, very soon your doubts were shattered.
— First of all, of course, they faced the destructive power of the belt, punishing disobedience and the so-called "freedom of thought", and then - the ugly face of a real demon in two inches from your face.
— It turned out that the local nuns were not fragile god’s servants at all. They stood day and night on guard of human peace, tracking down infernal creatures and quartering them, and you, hardened by frequent punishments and awareness of the involvement of the devil's spawn in the incident, did not take long to become one of the best demon hunters.
— So yes, you weren't afraid of anything. However, only with "his" exception.
— "He" was the Man in Red, or so they called "him" in the mansion. Unsociable, closed and straight to the bone piercing with one look… you knew for sure that "he" was a demon, and not just any, but the most malicious of all. The one you should exterminate before everyone else. And, probably, "he" saw this confidence hidden under a layer of crushing horror in your eyes.
— No one knew where "he" came from and why, no one wanted to be in the team with "him", no one, in principle, was eager to be with "him" within a radius of ten kilometers, and the Man in Red "himself" showed no interest in others.
— This attitude towards "him" was quite familiar. People are greedy for their lives, it’s the nature: they grab at the thinnest straws, hanging over the abyss, even if they know that they will not be able to survive, because for them there is nothing more valuable than life. If rebirth is real, then they will never know anyway. "He" knows. In a previous life, "his" name was…
— "Damn it, faster!" you shouted, stunning the Hunter with an ultra-precise shot and quickly freeing "him" from the chair. "It's just the two of us left, so try to survive. I won't come next time!"
— Oh...
— You reeked of fear, your hands trembled treacherously, and you ran away from "him" rather than from the recovered Hunter, but, in fact, it didn't matter. You came to the rescue, even if only for your own salvation, just as irrationally selfish as any other human, and yet, yet you came to the rescue. Perhaps it will be nicer if you just kill "him" yourself? It won’t work, of course, but let this dream continue to warm up your instincts.
— Since that match, the Man in Red has been interested in you. If "his" attention fell on someone, everything in itself became disastrous, and you were just asking for trouble; the barrel of a highly polished rifle always felt like it rested on the back of "his" head. It's only a matter of time before a shotgun is roughly shoved into "his" mouth and the taste of gunpowder is smeared on his tongue…
— However, again, neither one nor the other wouldn’t work, since the Man in Red, fear itself in the flesh, couldn’t be killed. And, unfortunately, "he" suddenly wanted to see the imprint of this truth on your face to the point of itching longing.
— Now others didn't approach you. The survivors were afraid to contact once again with the person who somehow constantly found herself with a Man in Red nearby, and this fact did not please you, as well as them. There was nothing you could do, left in the gnawing loneliness.
— At night you felt "his" presence at your door. In the morning - behind your back when you were walking towards the bathroom. During the day - in the shade of the far corners of the library, in the evening - among the plants in Emma's greenhouse, where you could breathe deeply. It used to be possible, but now constant fear held down the lungs and let in only as much air as "he" wanted. Unbearable.
— Prayers didn't help. As you later found out, the lead and the claws of the Hunters too, because there were not even scratches left on the body of the Man in Red that could be healed.
— The sisters in the monastery used to say that if something cannot be achieved by killing, then it remains only to accept, but how could you accept the constant presence of a demon, gradually turning you into his puppet through the fetters of fear?
— You put thirty-four bullets into "him", six knives, with one piercing through "his" throat and the other through the temporal wall, also tried poisons, strangulation and all this with holy water, of course. "He" didn't care. Only the fact that you sometimes came pretty close to "him" for killing made it possible to tolerate the damage to "his" shell.
— Besides, the horror of a new defeat was very becoming to you, and the Man in Red... Naib-in-the-past liked it damn much. It had been a long time since he had felt emotions.
— So yes, he showed no interest in others. However, only with your exception.
[ He fell from the heavens and brought with him the first falling leaf of the season ]
— Since the tragedy, someone has been visiting your dreams. Color, attire, any details of appearance mercilessly slipped from memory, leaving no chance of identification, but you knew that this wasn’t the enemy. His angelic voice has never left your mind.
— In sorrow and in joy, in sickness and in health, the voice delicately whispered words of consolation or instruction to you, pointing, as it seemed, the right way. And you, brought up in the walls of the worship of divine creatures, trusted him implicitly.
— So, of course, when he ordered you to go to the Oletus Mansion, you didn't throw around questions. Because it was him after all.
— Everything that the Lord decides to send down to us, we are able to overcome, right? And all the trials, no matter how unimaginably difficult they may be, will serve us as a great lesson. You didn't know if this was really the case, but your first match was amazing; really, no one expected that a nun would suddenly take out a rifle and start shooting right and left? You're the best, the one and only.
— "Good girl," his voice whispered that night. "I'm proud of you"
— And suddenly that's all you needed.
— Over the years, no, just a couple of decades spent in terrible conditions of cruelty and isolation, you managed to become, without exaggeration, very dependent on the kind words of a mysterious "friend". They were the only support that saved you from despair, so, of course, hearing praise was all you wanted. Is it possible that someone's brain can lose the craving for life without the simplest set of sounds, called a "voice"? There is a chance to check.
— But you didn't consider your, uh... "little addiction" to be anything bad. The "voice" was there and supported you, and also sounded so angelically beautiful; if he is an angel, which there can be no doubt, then it’s your duty to adore him.
— Well, so the sisters and the holy mother (although there is nothing holy about her) kept saying, but doesn’t matter.
— You loved the "voice" in your head. He was mesmerizing. Gently whispering words of approval, its owner was very eloquent and could convince you of what he wanted; it was always important for a person who grew up in isolation from the kindness to be gently treated, and the "voice" seemed to know it very well. You two have never argued, never quarreled, and couldn’t break the connection. But even being so smart as you are, it was to hard to realize that these conversations were boiling down to one thing: your absolutely and unstoppable addiction.
— "I know you're good, good girl, and we're good together; only I can support you. And I know you feel it. Everything will be fine..."
— These words were not hard to come by, slipped through the convolutions of your brain and ate into the bones; every time he said it, you got a sip of great joy. "Of course," you thought, "because I'm a good girl."
— And then you touched the bare skin of William's forearm while helping him during the match, and he instantly collapsed on the ground, not breathing. Eyes opened. He died at your accidental touch.
— Your face has never lost its steadfast, calm expression since the days of the monastery. A steel lady with an apostolic on her head, instilling fear into the souls of demons and serving as a stone wall for ordinary people.
— But now, in this damned second your beautiful face was distorted with such tearing horror that the world has turned upside down, knocking out your organs with a tension wave, and then returning them to their place, leaving them there soft-boiled. Nightmare. It's just another nightmare, a bad dream, you just have to wake up. Need to... wake up, wake up, open your eyes, please open your eyes! No. You couldn't have killed an innocent man. You couldn't have killed William Ellis! No, no. This can't be happening. It's impossible. Not fair. It’s scary. So so scary. Scary, scary, scary, scary, scary scary scary scaryscaryscaryscary
— ...Wait, please.
— Why does the Photographer smile so strangely from afar? Why does this cruel fucking Photographer, a disgusting demon..?
— "Good girl", a voice sounded softly and quietly in your head, while the Hunter in the distance opened his mouth absolutely in time with the words. "I'm proud of you"
— ...
— What?
— What is it? Wait. Why?
— Dumbfounded, you numb stared at the rich blue skin, shimmering with starry matter, waves of thick silver hair, curls of horns. Long nails tapping on the sword guard. Eyes that were absolutely black, but shining with unshakable warmth to you.
— Why? Why, why, merciful God? It just can’t be real. It can't be him!
— You had no idea that in that incident on an autumn night your life was to be cut off forever. Remember? Legs ached from the cold, viscous earth due to the downpour, hair stuck to your face, tangling with eyelashes and closing the sight. Tree. It should have fallen, breaking the fragile child's body, but for some reason you took a couple of extra steps…
— Azrael, who came down to take your soul, could not understand how it happened. His lists have never changed. Your name was in it. Right here. However, you were standing there, alive and alone; it was... somehow amazing, he thought. Interesting. Why not?
— So he followed you. He wanted to find out what kind of human being managed to escape his hands, but, unfortunately, the longer Azrael watched, the more he wanted something. Whisper a few words in your ear - are you being offended, feel sad, need praise? He can probably do it if you smile at your reflection in the mirror, because it’s just a small gesture of good when he is the fallen angel. You see? It made a very well sense, didn’t mean much. But gradually Azrael began to notice a desire to stay in your head forever. After all, you thought of him so kindly, and no one ever loved him before.
— Love... That's right. Borrow this feeling, please, and fill him to the limit. He can run his tongue along your neck, because you are such a wonderful person - you secretes love physically, make people happier. What is this power called? He’d like to know.
— He’d like to know everything.
— Oh. Unbelievably. A couple of decades, and a fallen angel feels something for a mortal. It's just ridiculous.
— He hugged your brain so tenderly, and everything that distracted him from you infuriated incredibly, to such an extent that he wanted to make an exception and kill the innocent. Why not? Really, why? Azrael has been asking this question all the time since he met you; so much has changed. He lived a little less than Adam and Eve, so long and so alone… Maybe he should think about himself a little bit?
— Yes, that’s right. Love. Burning and big. When he was looking down at his stomach, he practically saw love rising, spinning, writhing like a bump shining through perfect skin. When he ran his fingernail over it, the knot, gradually tied somewhere below the guts, tightened tighter and tighter, and he just couldn't help himself. Would he have fallen again for what he whispered to you in the confessional? How lovingly praised you for mere trifles, tying to himself with unbreakable affection? And for things he did in your dreams, taking away every bit of memories from last night at dawn so as not to spoil everything? How human-like. How satisfying.
— And then, then he decided to direct you to a place where it won't be difficult to reach.
— And then, then he put a grain of his death-providing power into your hands, because no, no, NO, when he think about himself, Azrael knows that you don't need to touch other people.
— And then, then… You’ll join him in heaven.
— "Go here, be the good girl. I know you can do that"
144 notes
·
View notes
When you’re sick Hcs
Pairing: Victor x Reader; Aesop x Reader; Joseph x Reader
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: None
From the moment he woke up and saw you, he knew something was wrong with you
You looked tired, your voice was croaky, and you just seemed tired to him
He’ll get Wick to send letters to everyone asking them to fill in your games for the next few days while you recuperate
You will then drag you back to bed, where he will force you to rest
He’s sad he can’t really give you much affection while you’re sick since he, himself doesn’t want to get sick so he takes care of you to the best of his abilites so you can get better faster
He’s kinda awkward at taking care of you but he still tries his best
During matches the only thing will be on his mind is you, have you had your medicine yet? has your temperature gone down yet?
Please drink your medicine or Victor will be sad, he will use puppy eyes on you if he must — no one can resist his puppy eyes
While your sick if you ever need anything just tell him and he will run around to get whatever you want as fast as possible (Although I suppose he already does this even if you’re not sick)
Idk why but I headcanon that Victor can make a mean af chicken soup, he will serve this soup to you piping hot and hand feed you the soup
When you get all better please give him lots of cuddles — he was very lonely while you were sick
I headcanon Aesop as somewhat of a clean freak, he is most definitely keeping on his mask for the duration you are sick
He’ll force you into bed and make you rest while he runs off to grab medicine from Emily
Don’t even try and refuse the medicine or you’re gonna be in for a ride
Unlike Victor, Aesop isn’t usually one to coo and fuss over you. He’ll leave you to your own devices, only coming in to check every now and then
While you’re sick the only affection he will give is hand holding while you lay in bed
He would not let Emily tend to you at all, it’s not that he doesn’t trust her but it’s the fact that you’re his s/o and as such his responsibility
Only while he’s in matches would he leave you in her care
After what happen to Claude, Joseph is scared shitless when he finds out you’re sick. He doesn’t to loose you too
He asks the other hunters to cover his matches and asks the more trust worthy survivors to cover your matches
Theres a 50/50 chance he will make you wait out the sickness in the camera world with him
He’s going to constantly annoy Emily, asking for updates on your health every few hours or so
Joseph could careless that you’re sick — He’s dead anyway — He will cuddle you
While cuddling he will be the big spoon, while it’s not much it gives him the reassurance that he could protect you if someone where to happen
Until you get better he’s going to be in a state of panic, this state of panic getting worse as the days pass by. It gets especially bad if your sickness gets worse
Joseph dotes on you a lot, while you’re sick he dotes on you even more
If you don’t like your medicine then he’ll go to Michiko and ask for those little candies he sees her giving to Robbie and he will give one of them to you every time you drink your medicine (Please, please, please don’t make his life harder than it already is. He’s gonna lose it if he loses you too)
348 notes
·
View notes