Yandere Oc Castiel - Tumblr Posts
๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ ๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐.
โ YANDERE EMPEROR x GN READER
tags. historical/regency au. arranged marriage. half-angel!emperor. sub!yan & dom!reader undertones. mild blood & violence tw. suggestive & mature content. mild degradation.
second part/his pov.
Yandere!Emperor, who you've been arranged to be wed to since the moment you were born. It was all part of a peace treaty, see. Your parents โ King and Queen of a kingdom that simply paled in comparison to the Empire โ could not afford a war, yet neither did they want their kingdom to be annexed.
So, they simply sold your soul to the devil instead.
'Devil' was an understatement. The Imperial Family was said to have been descended from angels, and those with even a droplet of imperial blood far outshone regular humans. And what was a devil but a fallen angel? They were even said to have magic powers, but no one ever lived to tell the tale anyway.
Angels, demons, gods... It was all the same to you.
None of the nobles in the Empire wanted their heirs to be tied to monsters like that, and the Empress had wanted her son's spouse to have only the purest of blood โ so, who better than the family rumored to be descended from a god?
You meet him for the very first time when the both of you are 18 years of age. Your parents had packed you a month's worth of clothes and sent you off, just like that. You were supposed to 'get to know him' and whatever before you got married at 20, but you see no point. In the end, you are tied with him for life.
Truly, rumours and portraits did him no justice.
He stands half a head taller than you, gaze piercing and posture prim. His hair is a pure, blinding white, and his eyes are yellow as glittering gold. It's long, even tied in a ponytail, reaching his waist.
He greets you politely, kissing the back of your hand when you offer it, and leading you to the parlour silently. Despite it all, you can see right through his facade. He runs too cold for a human, and smiles too sharp. Behind his eyes is nothing but a demon masquerading as a man.
You decide then and there you want nothing to do with him.
โโใปเญจ โฆ เญงใปโโ
On the other hand, he is taken with you instantly. Right from the very start, you seem completely disinterested in him.
Disinterested.
No one has treated him that way in his entire life. He's only ever been fawned over or feared, and nothing in between. All of them saw him as a inhuman.
But you?
You don't seem to care about him at all.
It sends a thrill shooting within him, right down to the tips of his toes. He wants to test the limits of your distinterest. He wants to win you over. He wants to see you hate him. He wants...
"What do you think?" his mother asks him, after the short meeting has concluded and he has seen you to your bedroom.
He grins. "I believe they're perfect."
โโใปเญจ โฆ เญงใปโโ
The month you spend in the Imperial Palace is an odd one.
The Crown Prince had been practically glued to your side, which killed all your chances of socializing with the nobles in the area. One day, you snapped and demanded he left you alone. He did.
... For some reason, he seemed strangely happy as he left.
It only took about three days before he was back to badgering you. This time, you made (threatened) him give you some free time on the weekends.
Then, a month flies by, and you're on your way back to your kingdom.
"Farewell, darling," he says, almost mournfully. He kisses the back of your hand like he always does, but this time, it seems to linger. "I eagerly await our next meeting."
You don't deign to reply, snatching your hand away and stepping into the carriage.
There's an odd glint in his eye as he watches you leave.
โโใปเญจ โฆ เญงใปโโ
Not a week since your return home is when you find him at your castle gates. He's brought nothing with him but a carriage filled with gifts. For you.
There's just about everything you can think of. Jewellery, clothes, books...
"What in the world are you doing here?" you hiss.
"I simply missed your presence," he says happily. "I do hope you like the gifts I've prepared for you!"
"We aren't supposed to meet until a week before the wedding," you remind him dryly. "That's in two years."
"Oh, heavens," he gasps, obviously faking his surprise. "Haven't you received my letter? The wedding has been rescheduled to a week from now!"
What the fuck...?
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The wedding passes by in a blur. He had prepared everything in advance. The decorations, the venue, the clothes... Not a thing was out of place. Didn't wedding preparations take months?
He tells you not to worry about it when you ask.
He leads you to his bedchambers where the two of you will have your first night. Though his strides are elegant as always, there is an urgency to it you've never seen before. His eyes gleam.
Yet the moment the both of you are undressed, his prior confidence seems to have been reduced to ashes. He stares at you unmovingly, waiting for you to make the first move. His skin is flushed, from the tips of his ears all the way down to his neck.
You roll your eyes. If he weren't so good looking...
"What are you waiting for? Get on the bed," you snap. "Let's just get this over with."
He is, you soon realise, terribly eager and just as terrible in bed.
You have your hands in his hair, and he has his lips on your neck. When he bites into a particularly sensitive spot, you jerk and tug on accident, and he lets out a loud moan, eyes rolling to the back of his head. White paints the sheets, and your stomach.
"God, you're useless at this, aren't you? We haven't even started yet."
From the sounds he's making, it seems as if he couldn't agree more. He keens into you further, sucking and biting and licking as if his life depends on it. In no time at all, his cock presses into your stomach once more.
Well, at least he has the stamina.
โโใปเญจ โฆ เญงใปโโ
The Empress is dead.
The Crown Prince had killed her.
There's blood dripping from his sword, a manic grin on his lips. His clothes are stained red. The Empress' body lies cold on the ground not five feet away from him.
"What did you do...?"
When he notices your presence, he can't help but light up. He rushes to you cheerfully, his sword clattering to the ground. Wrapping you up in a tight hug, he nuzzles his face into your neck. You tense, gaze still fixated on the body on the ground.
"I killed her. She said that gods didn't exist any longer. How could they not? You're standing right before me. She said that gods didn't exist, and I killed her for it."
He's rambling now, muffled into your skin. You can feel his blood-stained hands grasp yours, toying with your fingers and knuckles and wrist. He's rambling now, but all you see is how he had severed all her limbs.
"... I want to give you everything. Then, I realised that if I was to have everything, I have to be Emperor. But Mother would never relinquish her throne unless she were dead. So now she is. Are you listening? Darling?"
"Yeah," you force out, through gritted teeth. "I heard you just fine."
He giggles.
โโใปเญจ โฆ เญงใปโโ
Yandere!Emperor, who now somehow seems to see you as a god.
"If I've descended from an angel, then it's only right you've descended from a god. Look at you, darling, you're divine."
"That's cute," you comment lazily.
The both of you are lying in bed. You have a book in your hands, whilst he stares at you as you read. Things like this have long become a regular occurrence.
Then, he takes one of your hands and starts to play with your fingers. He kisses every knuckle, every joint, then begins to nibble on your thumb.
You scowl, and attempt to snatch your hand away. His grip is too tight for you to do so. "What are you doing? That's disgusting."
He blushes. "You... taste divine as well. Please, allow me?"
What's the point of saying no? He'd only whine until you agreed anyway. Still, he is hot when he acts all pathetic.
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"Please..." he nearly sobs, tears running down his cheeks.
He's worked himself up into a frenzy just by playing with your hand, and now he's resorted to begging for your attention. His grip on your arm is tight, and his forehead presses against your shoulder.
His side of the bed is already soaked with sweat and tears and pre-come.
You sigh, flipping a page of your book. "I said I'm busy."
You grasp him by his hair and pull him up to your eye level. He spasms. He's writhing in place, twisting and turning and keening into nothing in his delirium. His eyes are glassy, now only garbled words leaving his lips.
You can make out a few. Like 'please', 'god', and 'yes'. For the first in time years, you smile. This can almost be considered nice.
Bring your lips to his, he eagerly meets you halfway. He tastes salty from all his tears, but also a hint of sweet. You bite down on his bottom lip, hard.
And that is enough.
He shrieks, debauched and utterly gone.
His high lasts longer this time, ropes of white spilling and spilling and spilling from his tip. He's heaving, and crying, and muttering thank you so reverently you'd think he was speaking to a god. To him, you certainly are.
You let go of his hair, his head dropping onto the pillow with a soft thud. The sheets are completely soiled, and so are your clothes.
You click your tongue in annoyance, looking at the book in your lap. He had stained that too.
end notes. i want to give him a name, but i don't really have many ideas. any suggestions? this is my first fic here, hope you enjoyed!
@ valekhor , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.