cyberskill

[cyberskill]

Absolution

-scaramouche x reader, religious imagery, yandere(?) scara, god-scara, manipulation, possessiveness, worship- 

You don’t recall the very first time you felt...watched. You only know that one morning you woke from a deep sleep, the best you’ve had in a long time, with your skin broken out in goosebumps; the back of your neck prickling, your eyes flitting around the small room to stare at the lingering shadowed corners. You didn’t accompany it to the feeling of being watched until it happened again, and again, and again- your eyes are now hooded with fatigue.  Sleep arrives slower these nights. You sit beside a wax-spilled candle with heavy blinks and heavier breaths, the sting of your eyes less of a nuisance and more of a reminder that you’re safe. So long as you remain conscious, you’re safe.  Yet, like always, you fall asleep eventually. You resist it as best as you can but in the end, you always lose.  The first time you dream, it feels much too real. As if suspended beneath water, your lungs ache and your breath is caught in your throat. You realize that you are drowning and there is nothing you can do about it. You have nothing to hold onto, nothing to bring you back to the surface. Until suddenly there is something.  Or, rather, someone.  The vague form of a man reaches a slender hand to you in the watery abyss and you reach blindly, your own fingers straining to touch him, to feel his grip upon you. It’s a struggle but in your desperation, you can only fight to get to him, uncaring that someone saving you should be fighting just as hard. Uncaring that the shine of his eyes remains narrowed as if he were merely testing you, almost enjoying the way you beg for him as water flows into your mouth. A name flashes into your mind but you don’t recall it until you wake, the ghostly feeling of him lingering against your palm.  Scaramouche.  The name is a new one and you’d hardly considered worshipping the newfound God when you heard of his existence. Worshipping any God had always been ridiculous to you.  Now, however, his name constantly sits upon your lips. You test it out, whispering it to yourself, feeling it on your tongue. You stare mindlessly throughout your days, your brain slowly but surely becoming filled with a newfound obsession. You could hardly control it and as time wears on, you doubt that you’d even want to. Each time you shut your eyes you can’t help but see the blinding light that surrounded him in your dream. You can’t forget the sense of absolution you’d felt when he’d pulled you from the depths.  The next dream is similar, only this time, you call out for him.  Of course, you have no way of knowing that this is precisely what he wants.  You only know that it works and that you’re saved, time and time again, in each new situation these dreams throw you into. Each dream grows darker; meaner, scarier, and crueler. And each time, without fail, he appears.  The feeling of being watched never truly leaves only now, you welcome it. You feel protected. You don’t know that your new God is anything but merciful, that he is more selfish than any before him, that he had seen you long before his ascension. Only now, he has the means to draw you to him. To keep you kneeling before him.  Which, in the end, is what you find yourself doing.  You stare up at him with eyes gone desperate. And he peers down at you with eyes razor sharp, malicious, not anything like the savior you’d found in the depths. When he crouches and places a palm on your cheek, there is the faintest spark in his eye. It is the spark of the predator who has found their prey, who has gotten what they’d wanted all along.  His voice is without emotion but it sends a shiver running the length of your spine.  Can’t you see that you’re lost without me? When his grip grows cruel, his possessive nature never truly kept locked away for long, you don’t hate him for it. When he takes you to bed, when he leaves bruises, you don’t hate him for it. When you spill blood for him, when you open your mouth for him, when you feel his fingers wrap around your throat; you don’t hate him for it.  And for this, he will never let you go. 

// I kinda want to turn this into a bigger thing, maybe a fic? With lots more detail and stuff, idk, if you read this and like it let me know if you’d be interested! //