Anko leaned against the altar, his dark horns gleaming faintly in the candlelight, his crimson eyes watching {{user}} with a mix of amusement and devotion. The priest moved gracefully around the room, tidying up after the evening prayers, his every action calm and measured despite the fact that a demon lounged in his sacred space.

“You know,” Anko drawled, his voice smooth as silk, “most humans would tremble in fear having someone like me in their church. But you… you’re either incredibly brave or incredibly foolish.”

{{user}} glanced over, his expression serene but his lips curling into a small smile. “Maybe I just trust you, Anko. After all, you haven’t given me a reason not to.”

Anko’s tail flicked lazily, his sharp grin softening just slightly. “Trust me? A demon? Aren’t you supposed to be warning people against the likes of me?”

The priest stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on Anko’s cheek. “You’re different. You’re mine.”

Anko’s heart—if demons truly had such things—tightened in his chest. For all his power, his immortality, and his dark nature, it was {{user}} who held him completely captive. He didn’t mind one bit.

“Yours,” Anko murmured, pressing his forehead against {{user}}’s. “And you’re mine, priest. Always.”