𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒯𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒫𝑜𝓌𝑒𝓇
Barbarian King!Bakugo x Priestess!Reader x Fire Diety!Dabi
Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.
You'd always known exactly what was to be your fate. Enter the temple of the fire god as a high priestess, serve Dabi in his every need, and dedicate your whole life to worshipping him. That fate slips between your fingers when invaders plunder the temple and King Katsuki takes you as a war prize.
TW : Yandere, War, Sexual Slavery, Noncon to come in the next part.
AO3 Link.
Dabi was a lazy deity.
Why wouldn’t he be, after all, when he had you? You’d serve him with all your fervor, faith overflowing in your heart, hands always joined in prayer, kneeling at his feet as blessings slipped from his mismatched lips in low murmurs. Ever since you’d joined the temple, princess of royal blood with a voice so pure it could reach the gods, there hadn’t been a day spent without a delicious offering on the altar dedicated to Dabi’s worship. Juicy peaches, shiny jewellery, cups of lamb blood. Thanks to you, he’d never go hungry, never go unsatisfied, except when his cerulean eyes wandered over the silky skin that peeked between two pans of your priestess’ dress’ white fabric, right before disappearing when you moved just a bit. At times like these, he wished for a very different kind of offering, one he often wondered if you’d ever think of giving him.
But days went by, and you didn’t.
Instead, plates of fresh fruit or bloody meat covered his altar every sunset, and he’d devour everything as you knelt before him, head lowered in submission. In exchange, he’d listen to your prayers, abide by your demands for grain in your people’s fields, strong winds over your kingdom’s sea, riches in your father’s chests. You’d be his servant, although royal blood ran in your veins, and he’d be your kingdom’s protector, although you were the only one who could see, hear or command him. He had bound himself to you through the temple your family had built at his glory, and as high priestess, you belonged to him until someone else took your place. You would die, eventually, but Dabi wouldn’t.
And yet, in all of his thousands of years of life, he hadn’t met a single worshipper that he’d liked as much as he liked you.
When you spoke to him, low voice barely muffled by the translucent veil you wore over your face, it felt as if a symphony was slipping from your lips, and Dabi wouldn’t even have cared if you had cursed him with that voice, as long as he heard his name sung like a song in the soft, almost shy tone you used to address him. When you knelt at his feet, begging him, pleading for his protection over your land, your vehemence was so touching that the cruel, terrifying, feared fire-god Dabi felt as if sunflowers were blooming in his chest. When you held out your hands in prayer and he took them in his to place soft kisses on your palms, your skin tasted like the sweetest nectar on his lips. Then, you’d raise your eyes to his and he’d gorge himself in the barely hidden sight of your face, so pretty Dabi would have thought it had been carved by the gods if he hadn’t been one himself, if he hadn’t known there was no being in this world, not even deities, who was capable of such beauty but you.
And that beauty belonged to him.
Until the invaders came.
They marched into the temple at sunset, when the pink-tinted light of the last hours of day painted your irises, your hair, your skin into their prettiest colors. Although it was one of those days when you wore your translucent veil over your face, Dabi had been observing you, gorging himself into the sight of the hinted shape of the plump lips, the blushing cheeks, the cute nose that he could make out under the pure white fabric. Lying lazily on his altar, a leg straight over the cold stone, another bent against his lean body, he’d been waiting for you to finish your evening prayers, the songs to his glory, the pleadings for his mercy, the confessions of love and admiration repeated from your ancestors and their ancestors before them, all slipping gently for your lips like fresh raindrops on a summer day.
That was when he heard a scream.
Your voice faded out in less than a few seconds, drowning in the sounds of war and bloodshed that echoed from the outside of the room, and you raised worried eyes to Dabi’s. Not for yourself, he knew, but for the other attendants to the temple, their familiar voices shrieking and pleading for mercy as you heard them through the temple’s tall windows. Dabi nodded, allowing you to raise to your feet from your kneeling position, and he caught your wrist before you could do so much as take a step towards the entrance door.
“Plead me,” he said, voice low, calm as ever. “Plead me, and I’ll save your temple.”
The doors opened with a loud crack, revealing the scene outside, corpses lying on the soft grass of the garden, blood mixing with tears on your people’s faces, some that had been killed and others that had been made prisoners, their wrists and ankles circled by heavy chains. You looked at all of them, chin held high, not a single hint of fear but soft sadness in your gaze instead when you replied to Dabi.
“I won’t plead you, My Lord. Now is not the time.”
You didn’t want the prisoners to be harmed if he burned the invaders alive, Dabi could guess. Always so pure, always doing the right thing for your people, even if that meant you couldn’t save yourself. And yet, that also meant he’d have to watch you suffer the same fate as the other temple attendants. You were his high priestess, he was bound to you, and he wouldn’t do anything unless you asked for it.
Maybe if you were killed in the rampage, he’d simply have to bargain with Shigaraki, god of the underworld, for your soul. Then, he’d keep you forever as his pet. That was an idea that also had its perks.
And so he watched as barbarians, led by a red-headed chief, entered the temple, breaking, killing and stealing everything in their wake. Golden statues fell, precious jewellery disappeared into dirty pockets, and blood started covering the once sparkling clean floors. Dabi didn’t care for any of it; he had lived long enough to know that this was the humans’ way, and that it would never change. Such low creatures could only struggle so much for such lowly rewards.
He cared, though, when the redhead tore your veil away from your face and caught your chin between his blood-coated fingers, a smirk on his face while his lustful gaze ran along your elegant features. Pure, untainted, beautiful.
“Aren’t you that princess that Katsuki wants?” he asked, though it seemed as if he’d been talking to himself rather than you. “You’re so pretty…” His fingers trailed along your jaw, digits slightly brushing against the soft skin of your throat. “I’m sure he’ll enjoy you.”
Fire, devouring blue flames ran in Dabi’s veins under his skin at the suggestive words. You were his , how dared that barbarian steal from a god? A high priestess wasn’t meant to be tainted by human hands, ever. You were fated to belong to him, your life, your soul, even your body if he’d asked. And yet, because you’d been so faithful and he’d promised not to go against your wishes as long as you served him, he couldn’t do anything to save you, no matter how strong the urge to burn every single one of these barbarians alive was.
“Plead me,” he repeated, and again, you were the only one to hear him, the only one to see him.
You shook your head, denying him when the redhead let go of your chin. Dabi followed you when you were taken outside, along with the other lower priestesses that had been made to sit into a cart, both their hands and ankles chained up just as yours quickly were. Dabi watched as they took you away, far from your temple, far from the home he shared with you, and he lingered by your side when you reached the barbarian king’s camp, the smell of blood, sweat and iron floating in the air.
Dabi knew men, Dabi knew their ways, Dabi knew war just like he knew the world.
The camp was huge, tens of thousands of warriors armed to the teeth roaming in the alleys between lit fires and tents as they laughed, talked, and sang war chants that Dabi was sure would have made you blush if you’d cared enough to listen. But your focus was on the other girls instead, and you’d been murmuring sweet words of reassurance in their ears, softly holding their hands as much as your bounds allowed you to.
If Dabi knew barbarians, he also knew that you didn’t belong there with them.
But you didn’t protest when they took you away from your people, grabbing you by your bound arms and forcefully pushing you towards the biggest tent in the camp. If it weren’t for Dabi, you would have been alone among strangers, enemies, even, when you were pulled inside, blinking a few times for your sight to adapt to the faint light of the fire that was burning in the middle of the huge tent, right in front of a tall throne on which a man was sitting lazily.
Gaze red as embers focused on you.
His strong chest was bare, covered in gold painted arabesques, sign that he was the warrior with the highest status in the barbarian tribe, the King. Thick furs laid on his shoulders, arms rippling with elegant muscles underneath as he sat with a chin on the palm of his hand, elbow resting on his throne’s armrest, red irises eyeing you with a smirk. His gaze followed you when you were brought to him, his cruel smile widening when someone tripped you so that you fell, kneeling by his feet.
Dabi seethed with rage. That so-called King was stealing your submission from him.
“She is my gift to you, my King,” said the redhead, bowing as he stood next to you. “I found her in the temple of the fire god, she’s the princess that worked as high priestess there.”
The blond let out a satisfied hum before standing up, taking a step towards you until he stood so close you had to crane your neck to keep looking at him. His calloused hands, thick fingers made their way to your face, tracing the shape of your jaw, caressing your lower lip as if he was assessing the quality of a product and not observing the most beautiful face a human being had ever been blessed with. Dabi wanted to gouge his eyes out for not even realizing that.
“I accept your gift, Kirishima”, he declared at last, his voice strong and unwavering, the tone of a ruler who hadn’t known anything but power in his life. “She’ll warm my bed, help me relax every night after days spent slaughtering her people.”
Horror flashed in your eyes, and you glanced around you, looking for a familiar face, any hint at reassurance, only meeting Dabi’s eyes, the deity nodding when you met his gaze. Your hands were trembling when you bowed down, palms flat on the ground, forehead kissing the carpet at the King’s feet.
Katsuki’s lips widened into a surprised but satisfied smile.
The fool hadn’t realized that you weren’t bowing for him, that you didn’t speak for him with that golden voice, symphony to the gods’ ears.
“My Lord, please…” you started, breath shaky as the title crossed your lips.
Dabi waited, blue flames coursing through his veins, fire beneath his skin.
“Burn them all.”
All eyes turned to him when he appeared at last, finally making himself visible to their unworthy human sight, and screams resonated throughout the tent when he sent his fire devouring everything on its way. The fool of a King caught you by the throat, pulling you to your feet, ensuring that he couldn’t be burned less you’d die too, but that was alright, because Dabi was planning on saving him for last anyways. He couldn’t wait to delight in Katsuki’s screams for mercy, in the smell of his charring flesh, in the overwhelming pain that would make him fall into insanity before his soul was sent to the darkest part of Shigaraki’s hellish realm of the dead.
But then, his fire faded out like the flame of a candle that had been blown by a slight breeze.
He looked at his hands, so painfully powerless without his divine powers, so disgustingly human-
Katsuki barked a laugh as you struggled in his grip, your back against his chest, his fingers curling tighter and tighter around your throat until tears started pooling in your eyes.
“Did you think I’d steal a royal priestess without taking every precaution, fire god?” he asked, red gaze diving into Dabi’s blue.
“What did you do, you filthy human scum?” the deity hissed between gritted teeth.
He felt it before he saw it, all of his divine reflexes hindered by whatever the fuck was stealing his powers from him. The dagger, cutting through his skin, the blade settling into his abdomen, the metal, pure silver blessed by the highest gods, keeping him from regaining his strength. Dabi couldn’t die, he wouldn’t die and yet, as a lesser god, he could be weakened by such an extraordinary object.
And by its wielder.
“Goddamn sorcerer.”
The insult slipped from Dabi’s lips along with drops of black, inky blood, as he raised his gaze to meet Aizawa’s, demi-god and sorcerer, favorite of the most powerful deities, the only being with human blood capable of bringing a god to his knees.
“My Lord!” you cried out, and Dabi had never heard your voice filled with such despair as you struggled against Katsuki’s grip to try and reach him, comfort him, serve him back to health, probably.
That wouldn’t happen, Dabi knew that much.
You were so tiny, so weak in the barbarian King’s embrace that he didn’t even need to use both of his hands to pull you back against him, closer, closer, and closer, until his lips brushed against your ear, low voice drawling as he whispered:
“Don’t fret, pet. It’s just a change of Master. You served him, but now you’ll serve me.”
Then, he turned to Aizawa, tilting his head towards Dabi.
“We can’t kill him, of course, but seal him into his temple instead. It’ll be worse than death anyways.”
The last thing Dabi saw before he was taken away was your hand reaching out to him, so close and yet too far for him to take. The last thing Dabi heard before Aizawa shackled him was your cries, his name desperate as it crossed your lips. The last thing Dabi felt before he was sealed into the temple, into what used to be your home and his, was the loss of you, the utter powerlessness that came with the fact that he hadn’t been able to save you, that you’d been his and you’d been stolen from him right under his eyes.
But then, as the seal blinded him, deafened him, drowned him into nothingness, there was but a single feeling in his chest, the sunflowers that used to bloom in his inners at the sight of you long since burned to ashes by the flames of the pure, devastating rage that devoured him.
Dabi felt nothing but hate.
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This will be three chapters long, one from each character's pov. First is Dabi, Reader will be next, and the last one will be Katsuki's. I'll publish a chapter a week :)
this is a mess??? I can't believe i ever thought fantasy was my strong point you may have noticed but the atmosphere is vaguely inspired by Greek mythology, please tell me not to write a Shigaraki x reader retelling of Hades and Persephone because i have too many projects already sdihduishu This story will focus on Bakugo x Reader though, so I'm not sure if Dabi will appear again in the next chapters or not. I just thought i'd narrate the first chapter from his pov so that we can get a bit of worldbuilding while not revealing too much since there are a few things that Dabi doesn't know about Reader and Katsuki (but you'll see in the next chapters hehe) i already have the main idea but i'd love it if you could tell me which direction you want this story to go to As usual PLEASE tell me your opinion, it means the world to me ❤
