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.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The evening sky was painted in soft hues of orange, pink, and purple as the sun began to sink below the horizon, casting its warm glow over the cliffside where Y/n and the Tsaritsa sat together. The wind was gentle, carrying a cool breeze that tousled Y/n's hair as he rested in her lap, his body relaxed and completely at ease. His eyes were closed, lost in the serenity of the moment.
The Tsaritsa, however, was far from calm. She sat still, her gaze fixed on Y/n as she cradled him against her. Her fingers traced slow, delicate patterns along his sides, her touch tender yet possessive. Every inch of him was a treasure to her, a piece of something she had come to love in a way that was all-consuming.
Her ice-blue eyes gleamed with a deep obsession as she watched the peaceful rise and fall of his chest. Y/n’s trust in her, the way he completely surrendered himself to her in moments like this, only fueled her desire to protect and keep him for herself.
She leaned her head slightly, her cool lips brushing against his temple in a feather-light kiss. Y/n didn’t stir. His breathing was steady, his face soft with relaxation. The Tsaritsa’s hand moved up slowly, sliding across his waist, savoring every sensation of his warmth through the fabric of his shirt.
“Do you feel it, Y/n?” her voice was barely a whisper, spoken more to herself than him. “Do you feel how much I need you?”
Y/n shifted slightly in her lap, his head resting more comfortably against her chest, but he remained asleep, unaware of the intensity in her gaze. The sunset’s glow caught in her pale hair, giving her an almost ethereal appearance as she continued to stroke him, her touch lingering as though she couldn’t bear to let go.
In moments like this, the Tsaritsa often found herself battling her own thoughts. The centuries she had spent fighting, leading, and scheming felt distant now. With Y/n, the world was different. He had brought something into her life that none of her battles, none of her power, could ever replace.
She sighed softly, her fingers brushing over his skin like a lover’s caress, and leaned down to whisper in his ear, her voice so low that only the wind could carry it.
“I won’t let anyone take you from me. Not the gods, not fate, no one.”
Her words hung in the air, unnoticed by the sleeping Y/n but felt by her all the same. The Tsaritsa pulled him closer, wrapping her arms more securely around his waist as she stared out at the horizon, her obsession with him deepening with every passing second.
The last rays of sunlight dipped below the mountains, casting the cliff into twilight. The Tsaritsa’s mind wandered, imagining what their future would be like—always together, always under her watchful eye. She wouldn’t allow him to slip away, not now, not ever. The very thought of losing him made her heart ache in a way that nothing else had ever caused.
Her fingers traced lazy patterns along his sides, sending shivers down his spine. He leaned against her, eyes closed, savoring the moment as the world around them seemed to fade into the background.
