Archons x male reader
Candle lights flicker, rain drops onto the ground.
7 souls captured in the heart of darkness.
The candle, extinguished.
Credit to the artist who drew the art in the story cover.
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The village was bustling with its usual afternoon rhythm—merchants calling out to potential buyers, villagers moving between stalls, and the scent of fresh bread wafting through the air. Yet, on this particular day, the peaceful flow was interrupted by a peculiar sight.
The Archons had descended upon the village.
Venti, Raiden, Focalors, the Tsaritsa, Mavuika, and Nahida moved swiftly through the market, their steps purposeful, eyes scanning the surroundings with intense focus. Their presence was impossible to ignore. Though dressed like ordinary villagers, something about them was distinctly… otherworldly. Perhaps it was the commanding aura that surrounded them or the way they moved with confidence and precision, unbothered by the biting cold that had the rest of the village bundled up in thick layers.
Venti darted from stall to stall, grabbing scarves, gloves, coats, and anything else that looked even remotely useful. His usual playful nature was subdued, though his excitement was still visible as he held up items to inspect them.
“This one’s soft,” Venti declared, holding up a thick woolen coat before stuffing it into his growing pile. “He’ll like it for sure!”
Raiden stood near a stall selling boots, her sharp eyes scanning for the best pair. She turned to the Tsaritsa, who was browsing through winter hats with a determined frown. “Do you think Y/N would prefer something practical or something… stylish?”
The Tsaritsa’s cold gaze softened slightly, though her expression remained serious. “He needs warmth first. We can worry about style later.”
Focalors, meanwhile, had wandered into a stall selling thick blankets and fur-lined cloaks. She draped one over her shoulder, testing its weight, and then glanced over at Mavuika, who was carefully picking out finely woven sweaters.
“Mavuika,” Focalors whispered, “do you think we’ve bought enough?”
Mavuika shook her head, her silver eyes flickering with intensity. “Not nearly. Y/N deserves the best. We’ll keep going until we’ve found everything he needs—and more.”
Nahida, the smallest among them, trailed behind the others with a thoughtful expression on her face. She carefully selected smaller items—soft gloves, knitted hats, and cozy socks. She imagined Y/N wearing them, his face lighting up in delight, and the thought filled her with warmth. She couldn’t wait to see his reaction.
The villagers were baffled. None of them had ever seen these strangers before, but they moved through the market with a sense of urgency, purchasing every winter item they could lay their hands on. Whispers followed them as they passed by, curious eyes watching their every move.
“Who are they?”
“Never seen them before. Strange lot, aren’t they?”
