Unlucky (Yandere Oneshots x Reader)

Young Gods (III)

Part Three

Bellum & Mors

War loved Death. Not the divinity that possessed it, but the concept of death itself.

Blood stained the once beautiful field, its tall grass dripping with thick scarlet liquid. Its dark color rivaled any rose -- beautiful in his own eyes.

Tan skin enveloped a broad, muscled figure. His immense height causes him to tower over others. His red orbs added to the intimidation that radiated from his form. His gaze was piercing, with one glance and he was able to send an entire army to flee from him. A scar rode over his right eye, a reminder of who and what he was.

Jarek was the god of War. He donned a red robe over his shoulders, leaving it untied to reveal his scarred skin. A blue sash was loosely tied around his waist, beneath a bandage wrap that covered his lower abdomen. Pointed canines peeked from beneath his lips as he smirked.

Metal cooled the skin of Jarek's hand, the long shaft of his spear fashioned in red and black. A large, jagged tooth was embedded as a spearhead. The spear's sakahoko would fiercely glow red whenever he would fight, the adrenaline filtering through his weapon in preparation to slaughter anyone and everyone.

The sun still shone, its light basking upon the horrors of the land. The world was still, the field was a graveyard of the unburied. Their corpses, bruised and cut, lay amongst one another.

Neither side had won. It was another stalemate, a worthless battle.

Eyes that were immobile stared lifelessly back at Jarek. And immediately, his smile falters. Guilt gnawed at his soul, yet he shoves it away, determined to not tear at the wound that seared his heart.

Then a dark mist crawled from the shadows of the quiet trees. A young woman of (s/c) skin and (h/c) hair finds herself standing beneath an old oak tree. Her (e/c) orbs scanned the land with dull orbs, yet Jarek could still see the pity within her irises.

Oddly enough, she was more human than War would ever be.

"Death," Jarek nodded in her direction.

"Hello, War," despite his nature, she still managed to be kind towards him. Compared to the other gods, Life, Love, and Afterlife, Death was never fazed by him.

A part of Jarek felt bad for her, making (Y/N) to clean up his mess day after day. It was a horrid sight to see so many humans laying in their own pools of blood.

Silently, War watched as Death collected the souls of each man one by one. Despite their large multitude, she carried them with such care. In the back of his mind, Jarek could only wish that he was just as gentle as Death.

- - - - - -

A cold wind swept the hillside and the ground was slick with rain. Men donned in leather armor stood in large formations. A horde of footsteps could be heard marching in unison, their steps thundering together in silent unity. They would fight together and die together.

Upon the distant cliff, War watched with slightly saddened orbs as two separate forces began to collide.

"Are you alright?" a gentle voice pulled him away from his darkness. Jarek lifted his head, and smirks, "The bloodbath is just getting started. I wish I could join them, maybe slaughter a few mortals that dare to test me."

Death did not respond to him. Instead, her eyes focused upon the opposing army that marched towards the battlefield. Only a lucky few were able to don leather armor, while others were forced to bear only their tunics. They were armed with various weaponry, from bows and arrows to swords and shields, to spears, and axes.

"Which side do you propose will win?" War turns to the goddess.

"Death does not discriminate," (Y/N) answers.

"Oh please," he rolls his eyes, "I'm not asking you to spare them. I'm asking which ones do you think have a fighting chance?"

There was a prolonged pause. "Hullbeck," (Y/N) finally answers.

Jarek recoils, his brows furrow as he glanced towards the poorly prepared warriors. "Hullbeck?" he laughs, "Why?"

"They are fighting for freedom," (Y/N) answers, "Many of them were slaves to the Glanchester Clan. Despite their lack of armory, they're resilient and determined."

"Death on the side of humanity," War chuckles, "Now isn't that something."

- - - - - -

There was wisdom to Death's words. Invisible to the human eye, Jarek blindly ventures through a derelict camp. It had become a routine after every battle. Soldiers had dragged their friends off of the battlefield as doctors attempted their best to save what little warriors they had. There was a constant sadness in their souls, their bodies and minds crippling, yet they remained strong.

War began to understand what Death meant by her words. Humans are stubborn creatures. The Hullbecks were willing to die for their freedoms for death would be much kinder than being enslaved.

A sharp stab wrenched at Jarek's heartstrings. Lifeless bodies were being piled next to one another as grief hung in the air. As much as War didn't want to admit it, he hated his existence. He hated the universe for making him. He absolutely hated War.

A sob threatened to choke Jarek as tears stung his red orbs. He then felt a hand upon his broad shoulder. Looking down, he finds (Y/N)'s smaller figure glances up at him with concern.

Finally, he broke down. He clenches his jaw, his teeth gritted together as tears dripped down his cheeks. (Y/N) gently pulls the male into an embrace, she could feel his tears drip onto the skin of her shoulder as Jarek buried her face in the crook of her neck.

"I hate War," Jarek admits to her.

And (Y/N) immediately knew what he meant, for she felt the same way about herself. To take the lives of humans weighs heavily upon the two gods more than anyone would ever think.

"I hate Death," she mutters, her hold becoming slightly tighter.

Jarek pulled the young woman close, his heart palpitating in his chest. A faint mending of his heart slowly began to stitch. Perhaps, both gods aren't as alone as they once thought. Both were hated and feared by their own divine companions and the creatures of the universe.

In a strange way, War found solace in Death.

Perhaps, War truly did love Death...