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throwaway-yandere · 2 years

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Waking Up A Lying Dragon (Yandere!Morax/Reader)

A/n: I do not condone any "yandere" actions in real life, this is just a twisted version of the character for entertainment. This will also just be a loose interpretation/version of the myth "Bakunawa". I'm not very knowledgeable on the topic. I'm very sorry if the details were so off. ((I swear I'm not obsessed with the master/servant troupe this fic is just in my drafts way before yandere ayato lmao))

Unreliable synopsis: A widow/er gets exiled to Teyvat, only to realize it is worse than prison.

Cw: Canon Divergence. Yandere themes. Power imbalance. Mostly gn!reader (the reader likes women.)

------------

There is a saying you've heard in Qingce Village long ago. Your memory is weak now, but it went along the lines of "it is hard to wake up someone who is pretending to be asleep." The verbatim phrase had slowly eroded over time, as you can only pick up synonyms on what you hope the original passage was, but the meaning stands true.

You know well how much harder it is to convince those who chose to be ignorant more than those who are uneducated. Your world had always been a sea of ignoramuses and greed, the present is no different. You need only look at the man beside you for that frustration to resurface.

On a sunny day like this, you wished you can bask in the morning sun alone. "Zhongli", as he calls himself these days, sits with such eloquence and calm beside you that one would easily mistake him to be a righteous man. You scoffed. He is not.

Noticing your gaze, Zhongli straightened up. He adjusted his collar as a faint blush powdered his cheeks. There is a subtle smile on his face as he takes a small sip from his cup. You felt your stomach churn. Just what did he take your glare for? Although he is debatably more salacious in this new form he had taken, your gripe with him won't ever bubble to lust. You refuse to allow it.

You turned away. Hate him or not, you just can't win against him.

"For this lovely afternoon, we gather around here today to recall the tale of Rex Lapis's feat of sealing the terrifying sea dragon, Bakunawa! They are an absolutely perilous dragon that resides on Liyue's seas and our nation's greatest traitor! It is a story told often and one all of our children have heard, yet there had been recent developments found by the wonderful scholars of Sumeru, so keep your ears open!"

Iron Tongue Tian spoke in his usual velvety voice. Most passersby in the streets perked up upon hearing his implications of ancient discoveries.

You shook your head.

Bakunawa was a remarkable traitor in Liyue's Legends. With the archon's passing, it would be low for the storyteller to spread false news, right? Well. You have a fair share of encounters with corrupt and misinformed individuals so you're not placing bets on any of these.

You and Zhongli simultaneously placed your teacups down and eyed Iron Tongue Tian.

"So listen, let me tell you how it is... The tale begins centuries before the archon war, as a well-renowned xiezhi approaches Rex Lapis in candor..."

-----

"Salutations, Sovereign Lord Rex Lapis! This humble servant calls to bring forth news, should thee wish to hear it."

An illuminated immortal beast called out to him and bowed. Morax did not expect a xiezhi to approach him at this hour, but with how strangely uneven its breathing was it must be urgent. It's an even more curious thing for the intelligent ox-like beast not to label the news in either a positive or negative light. Especially when Rex Lapis himself bestowed these adepti the ability of hypersensitive tell spotting for the sake of maintaining law and order.

There are rarely any visitors allowed to enter Morax's domain. Considering how this was Yanfei's father, a friend of his, who was sent to deliver the message, it must be urgent.

Morax, in his human form, clothed himself with a lengthy hanfu with earthly tones. He may only be equipped with a fan and a pipe, but his presence alone is enough to make anyone tremble. The xiezhi learned of Rex Lapis' philosophies of Gold, and this is just one of many ways he displays placid intimidation. Who would even dare make a misstep when the Lord of Geo stood before them?

"Speak."

The pink-haired xiezhi lifted his head.

"There is a water dragon who trespassed Mount Hulao," he said. "They appear to be an outlander outside Teyvat. They're not particularly hostile, but they do not allow humans to interact with their nest either."

His gaze sharpened. "The dragon already nested in the mountains?"

"Yes, my Lord. They have already formed a domain for themselves by the lake, but Mountain Shaper's adamant on allowing them respite, if only for a moment..."

Morax hummed, uprooting the Vortex Vanquisher from the cracked earth. The xiezhi took a reluctant step back. The earth rattled in Morax's footsteps, and the way his golden light flickered through the cracks was amiss in his usual walks. Something tells the xiezhi that this was planned, yet he has yet to lay a finger on what caused his mood to churn into unusual distress.

"Then, shall you collect a few things for me?"

The xiezhi appeared visibly confused. His Lord would rarely ask for his assistance, as he preferred lower adepti to do his biddings. Perhaps this was a sign that this is more confidential than he thought.

He nodded. "What is it that you wish for, my Lord?"

Morax pulled out a list from thin air. The parchment is pink and laced with a hint of gold. The xiezhi could slightly see through the paper and noticed how the handwriting is akin to Lord Guizhong. He bowed his head to avoid accidentally being on the receiving end of Morax's wrath.

"Hold your head up high, dear friend," Morax spoke as he handed him the scroll. The Adeptus nervously grabbed the list "it is your job to find the ingredients listed here."

Rex Lapis did not lie, the paper is filled with ingredients. However, the xiezhi expected it to be an instruction for smithing a powerful weapon, yet this was a guide on making "good tea". The poor lawyer cannot tell whether this was better than mining cor lapises or not, as one of the requirements entails a need to harvest violetgrass. Still, he would suck it up. Especially if he wants to be married to his mortal fiancé before winter comes.

The xiezhi gulped "T-tea recipes, my Lord?"

"Yes," Morax nodded, yet oddly enough there is a smile behind his stoic eyes.

"It would be rude not to entertain guests, is that not right?"

---------

Morax entered the domain with ease. His guess was right that the rumored water dragon wouldn't endanger any of their visitors, as there was not a single hint of a trap or weapon. If anything, the realm was picturesque, with limitless orange striped skies, unfamiliar trees, and tropical pearls. The scenery was a stark contrast to the ones observed in Guili Plains. He can hear water flowing in a small stream.

Was this meant to replicate their old home? Perhaps that is why the dragon chose Liyue. The north cannot accommodate those with warm tastes.

Morax instinctively reached for his weapon as he noticed something walking toward him.

"Greetings to the one who governs the Plains of Returning and Departing. I am Bakunawa, a Sea Dragon from outside Teyvat, and I'm humbled to be acquainted with Your Grace."

His alert demeanor stilled and his breath hitched.

It was you.

You stood before him as an ethereal mortal cloaked with a cherry headdress and long pure silk that barely covered your form. The skin of your neck was bare yet laced with beads and golden tattoos. Had your eyes not glowed with vertical slits, he would've dubbed you as the most beautiful and handsome mortal he had ever seen.

But it was not your form that he was enamored with.

No, it was your presence.

Call it draconic instinct, call it fate. Not one label nor descriptor fits what Morax had felt when he first met you, and he was eager to spend centuries to figure it out.

"I must admit, I did not expect a personal visit," You chuckled softly "I fully expected for you to send your armed subordinates instead. Do I appear passable at best? I have heard from Mountain Shaper that you prefer conversations in this form."

"Y...Yes."

Morax caught himself. Did he, the Prime of the Adepti, stutter over something as minuscule as appearance?

He cleared his throat. Morax recalled from Guizhong's teachings that grueling conversations often start with tea and small talk. Well, if he must...

"You do not offend. You have a talent for upholstery. I bought jasmine tea. What is your motive for staying in here?"

"…"

"… Pfft-- Hahaha!"

You laughed while holding your sides. Even though you looked away, he could tell that your eyes were beginning to water. For a moment, Morax's knees felt wobbly as he watched your eyes brighten and crease over his comments.

Enchanting.

"You are as blunt and, err, interesting as they say!" You snapped your fingers in amusement. Your cheeks were rosy and your grin was wide. "Believe it or not my liege, I come here only to rest."

"It is your job to make me believe those words." Morax deadpanned.

"A fair point," you said. "However, I am not sure how to persuade you. Shall I recount the events that led me to your abode?"

"I will judge if the story alone will suffice," Morax spoke, "but proceed."

"Well then, let's pour ourselves some tea!"

-------

"There are seven moons where I'm from" You pointed to the fake sky above. "In my prime, I possessed quite a large stature. The mortals in my continent feared that I would swallow the moons out of ignorance, and would make strange noises with their damn pots and pans to rile me up– I know that look on your face. I've seen the same thing on Mountain Shaper's– Trust me, this will be relevant and it gets better."

You winked at the end of your ramblings.

Morax laughed curtly and crossed his arms. If you were sharper you would've noticed the faint pink blush on his cheeks. "I'll take your word for it. That does sound quite troublesome."

You clicked your tongue "It is. There is nothing more useless and vile quite like a human mortal."

Morax flinched.

"Are you not being too harsh with your judgement?" He took a sip of his drink. Morax hoped your opinion was not a threat. He had met adepti and yakshas alike who gaze at mortals with disdain, yet they were all charmed by their appeal in the end. "You may find that they aren't as bad as you say."

He almost wanted to fumble a rash apology after seeing your shoulders drop. You appeared akin to an orphaned child of a burned village, yet his point stands firm like a lone salvaged chapel.

You muttered, "They killed my sister."

Morax's eyes widened. He nearly spat his tea.

You gazed up and looked directly into his amber eyes.

"That was not the only thing they took from me," You grumbled. "They burned my mate's house and left her entire family to succumb to famine while I was away."

"I pride myself on being a patient being, despite my undesirable circumstances, yet I had let my anger fester deep enough. I had decided to swallow a moon they loved so dearly in return."

You were certainly more loquacious when berating mortals, something Morax silently made note of. Despite your distaste for humanity, you still wore their skin to accommodate his preferences. The notion made the dragon's heart skip a beat a little.

"And did you succeed?" Morax gazed down at his cup while you chuckled sardonically.

"What do you think?"

You opened your palm. Morax had to squint to see the little speckles resting on your hands. His eyes widened. There is no mistake. It is a culmination of both extracted stardust and starglitters. His breathing paced slowly. To think there would be a being who would dare defy the heavenly principles, even if such Teyvat's laws do not apply to them.

But that wasn't truly what caught his eye.

It was the gold ring on your finger.

"I succeeded, but failed to steel myself." You said. "In the end, these humans frightened me with their strange noises and led me back to sea. As pathetic as that sounds."

"The world I hailed from retained but a single moon," you spoke. "And I'd take a leap in the dark that this world used to have two more that accompanied that lone moon in the sky. I wonder if there's a crack behind that wall..."

Morax went silent. Those slew of words weighed a thousand threats, yet spoke of none.

"You had done all of that for a mere woman?"

"Are you not fuc– Did you not listen?" It's a good thing you caught yourself. "Humanity took my sister. They killed her because they mistakenly believed her weight was sinking the island. Humans are rash. Cruel. And they do not deserve my pity. There were multiple atrocities they have committed, and... And I suppose that was when they crossed the line."

Morax felt perturbed. Your reasonings were far from enlightened, at least in his viewpoint at the time. "Taking their moons is not a fair act of justice."

'No shit.' You took a long deep breath.

You heard this all before. The same lecture was spoken before you were shunned from your realm, and they all came from holier-than-thou dragons patting each other on the back over their skewed sense of morality when other creatures do not operate similarly. They are godlings with endless crimes yet these same faces would dare act empathetic over the lives you've taken after you've been driven out.

If they were not driven by political motives, they were emotionally detached. They cannot and WILL NOT comprehend how one can be enchanted to meet a woman like your lover. It appears that Morax fits the latter description.

He doesn't know. He didn't know.

The silence was beginning to become a nuisance for the both of you. You coughed behind your hand. "I… admit. After her death, I am no longer a patient benevolent being. Sorry, let us both put that aside for now. What matters right now is the issue that I am stranded in a foreign land."

"And what is it that you hope to achieve?" He muttered, causing you to tilt your head.

"Allow me to phrase that properly, Bakunawa. I am, for a lack of a better term, 'a blockhead'. I have but a smattering of knowledge when it comes to these dealings and quite frankly I am reliant on Guizhong." Morax said, slightly massaging his temple after imagining Barbatos's grating voice. "What is it that you are trying to tell me?"

"My new friend, Rex Lapis," You inched closer beside him.

"May I tempt you and Lord Guizhong with a service contract?" You said. Maintaining his breath turned difficult as your fingers intertwined with his.

"I assure you, I may have a questionable background but someone with my repertoire is hard to come by."

-----------

You raised an eyebrow at Zhongli.

"I did not seduce you in any shape or form." You grumbled, giving him a dirty look "Seriously, Morax, what lies are you feeding your people?"

"OUR people have quite an imagination, my dearest spouse," Zhongli chuckled as his thumbs gently caressed your thigh. You cringed.

You divert your attention back to the storyteller, ignoring the way his filthy hands seem to crawl upwards.

You can tolerate this. You can tolerate this. You had to quietly chant that, lest you might just accidentally pray to the "deceased" Rex Lapis for your safety.

"The water Dragon went on to serve Sovereign Lord Rex Lapis and the late Lord Guizhong as their most loyal retainer for over hundreds of years. But alas! As you all may know, the latter turned to dust, and what comes after had crumbled Rex Lapis' foundation of trust...."

------------

The Dust had settled.

You were afar when it happened, fending off the great waves as you slash through the perilous winds. The dim skies accentuate the glow of your spear. You could no longer tell if the salt you taste is off your sweat or the ocean and the same goes for your blood and theirs. Guizhong purposely stationed you to fight silent enemies because she knew of your phobia. You appreciate her consideration.

Some nights, you wished you were able to save her with just your appreciation.

Only when you emerged victorious against Osial's lackeys did you hear a shrill cry from Cloud Retainer. You snapped your head and reached your hand out in fear that the engineer needed assistance, slightly annoyed at her interference. When you leaped your way up, she was in pristine condition. Her feathers were barely covered in dirt just like her claws.

You sighed in relief.

You never liked loud and sharp noises.

It had always been your greatest bane.

"What the hell are you yelling for?! There is no time to coddle your eccentricities, Retainer!"

Her wing pointed to her north, trembling. You expected her to open her mouth with her predictable "One must" opening, but she didn't. You followed her gaze and occupied her telescope.

The shores of Yaoguang Shoal were far and truthfully the sight was left to your imagination. There were however, two silhouettes you were familiar with and the view was not pretty. Above the sands, you make out the form of your Lords and friends, Morax and Guizhong.

Your head lowered as you cursed under your breath. You just know that he is beside himself holding back silvery tears.

To have a loved one be stripped away...

He knows. Now he knows.

------------

"My Lord," You moved to pass the curtains. The beaded threads slide over and reveal the form of Morax's drained form. He still insisted on remaining human as he buried his nose in writing paperwork after paperwork. Out of respect, you entered his abode as one as well. It is no secret that you worry over his health. As his most trusted retainer, you had voluntarily stationed yourself outside his room for most of your free time. "I bought you some food and water from Mount Aocang."

There was no response.

You sighed. You should've guessed as much. You were in a similar state, might've been worse, a day after you knelt beside your wife's ashes. It was just unpredictable how the man you saw screamed and summon meteors from the sky grieving so uncannily silent.

"Why are you offering me fish?"

"Oh, I..." You scratched behind your ear. "I supposed it was an unconscious decision. I often gave my wife seafood when she was under the weather... My wife is an avid fan of seafood– was, an avid fan..."

You looked back at the memory of your old life so fondly, back when you waited for nothing more than eating with her by the banana leaves. Morax's face sharpened in a mocking pointed look. Your heart ached for a moment, fearing that the sentiment is not appropriate for those in grief to hear.

"Shut it."

Your sympathy slightly cracked. Perhaps it was not appropriate for you to mention your deceased loved one when he is in this state but to be so uncouth about it? A bit unacceptable. You pulled the plate closer to your chest defensively.

"But you must eat–"

"I find seafood distasteful." He bit back. "The mere sight irritates me. Dispose of it. Now."

"Mo–"

"BAKUNAWA!!!"

You trembled.

His eyes looked directly into your soul and you felt it dissecting your being. Judging. Hateful. Words cannot fully describe how unpleasant it becomes being near Morax's presence when he was menacing.

But Morax faltered when he saw you flinch.

He had almost forgotten your fear of loud noises.

"Do not mention your DEAD wife ever again." He spat and glowered. Morax picked up a pen again and hastily pulled out a parchment from his study table. You assumed it was yours as he began to inspect it closely.

"I should revise your contract."

"You didn't hate seafood last time we dined with Pervases." You mumbled mostly to yourself, not wanting to uncover your grief over the young yaksha's passing either. It certainly will be the last time you ate with him. You didn't want to use Pervases as a dirty trick to distract Morax from condemning your wife's memory, but you knew that with him, you must grasp at any straws for an immovable force to budge.

"I do not like it now. Bakunawa. Throw it away. A mere mortal's preference will never influence my own."

You scoffed.

A mere mortal? Had he become this petty? Using your deceased wife's favorite things as a weapon against you? Just so you would leave?

You want to be just as petty. You want to hurl insult after insult, but you have matured. He reminded you of yourself in the ocean many moons ago. You should know how grief comes in waves, clinging onto shore once in a while. This is a dragon stripped away from his closest confidant, much like how the love of your wife was taken from you.

If this is how he grieves, then you respect it.

He is a sleeping dragon, but it is not time for him to wake up.

"I see. I shall leave you alone for tonight." You smiled faintly.

"Get some rest, Morax."

After you left, Morax reached out his hand but you were already gone. He placed his pen down and rubbed his forehead. That was not how he wanted that conversation to go. He did not mean to be passive-aggressive, but he can't help but be irritated when you speak of the dead mortal.

You mention her name every moment you two were alone together, and he's starting to suspect that you do so on purpose. Her name is a constant reminder that while you penned your name in his contract, you will never belong to him. The gold on your ring finger solidified it.

Morax sighed.

He wished you stayed with him until he felt better, and not the opposite.

------------

You turned back to your original form. Your human heart was uneased and erratic the entire time you were alone with Morax. It's strange because you always felt secure around him, but being around a grieving person is likely a complicated ordeal. The uncomfortable sensations seem to stem from your human vessel, and the tingles have yet to subside despite reverting to your old scales.

You sat at a rock in Guili Plains. The field remains tilled with blood and residues of fallen divine beings. Ashes are scattered along with blood-stained mud. Traces of the battle left not one house standing. Morax was forced to move the survivors to the harbor. Had Guizhong survived, she would've calculated the damages and costs to repair the civilization. She would've been alongside you and Morax, pinching the bridge of her nose as she writes off what needs to be done. You could see it clear as day. Guizhong would've patted Morax's head and reassured him with hopes for the future. It left a bitter taste in your mouth just imagining it.

Because she reminds you of your wife. And now she had passed on as well.

You wondered if the two finally met up there. Lord Guizhong had expressed interest in meeting your wife someday. You wondered if they were fast friends.

But you also wondered if she's happy in the afterlife.

Being a sea serpent dragon, your eyesight is not as great as a crane's which leads you to have doubts.

Is it possible that Morax himself was the one who put Guizhong out of her misery?

"You may have won, but you shouldn't let your guard down, Bakunawa."

In one swift motion, your claws pressed against Beisht's neck. Her back was pressed firmly against the cracked concretes. A dangerous laugh echoed throughout the barren land. She, with her overflowing confidence, grabbed your hand and dug the blade deeper down her neck.

"Do you really think I'd come after you with my true form?"

Ragged as she may be, Biesht had been such an eye-candy. Her eyes were inviting and her lips were just as tempting. She's personally not your type, but you can see the appeal. Her sharp eyelashes and long painted nails are to die for. It's no wonder Osial tied her down as his mistress.

But this isn't Beisht herself.

"A water mimic." You grumbled distastefully. Your claws retract and morphed back into human nails. With apparent distaste, you won't let her rile you up in your divine form.

"Ten points to Bakunawa." She said sardonically.

"What are you doing here, Beisht? Your strength wanes-- you can barely maintain your mimic's shape. What could you possibly achieve by such a reckless ambush? Do you realize how idiotic your plan was? Do you have a death wish?"

"Tut-tut! Won't even allow me to speak? Such hostility!" Beisht snickered. "What's with your self-righteous attitude? There are no tales of chivalry and glory born from a wasteland. Don't suffocate yourself with such fake ideals, my fellow monster."

This serpent is the exact opposite of your wife.

"I…" You sighed. You were both equally jaded, the only difference between you two is that one is willing to hide it. "Why aren't you with your husband."

It was not a question yet she humored you anyways. "Trapped down there, but don't worry I'll join him eventually."

As she should.

"I wasn't fucking worried."

"To answer your previous question: I figured I should greet my new neighbor." She laughed. "After all, we're bound to be cellmates."

You clicked your tongue. Her smirk widened. Despite being at the bottom of this struggle, she seemed to be under the impression she had it under control. Your grip on the mimic's wrists tightened.

"What do you mean by that?"

"You're a serpent dragon like me, not a pathetic mortal. I'm sure you know what I meant, don't you darling? It's very similar to how Osial won't let me meet other beings."

You refused to meet her gaze.

You know. Everyone knows the look Morax gives you when he thought no one was staring. You know how both his human and draconic hands hover above your own when they shouldn't. They practically mirrored yours one fateful summer on the seaside. They were a striking similarity of who you once were to your wife.

A dragon's love can be suffocating. You admit that you are not free from criticism when you were just as hopeless. You once tried to court your wife by leaving human and animal hearts on her doorstep among other gruesome courtship methods. It was only through her mercy did you learn how love must be kept in moderation. She forgave you of your sins. It was only through her guidance did you learn that love does not translate to possession, nor should it be stifled by rigid rules.

He does not think the same.

Morax is desperately in love with you, but your heart belongs to another. That is a violation of your shared contract that neither of you had to acknowledge, and with how the winds changed and blew the cold away, so too will his disposition.

At that moment, you started to think that gentle reminders of your marriage won't be enough to keep the dragon at bay.

"He wants to lock me up to quench his obsession." You breathed shallowly. "He just hasn't discovered a sociably acceptable reason to do so."

"Smart dragon." She cooed and smoothed out your ruffled human hair. You quietly groaned. "I'm sure we'd be good friends under the sea. You'd be my favorite neighbor."

"I will be your only neighbor."

"Oh? Do you want points for that as well?"

You gritted your teeth. "I don't need your approval."

"Hmm, but you need others, don't you? Poor poor Bakunawa," she mocked.

"Finally got a taste of what it feels like to be accepted by society, only to sink back to the abyss. What a tragic tale."

Beisht looked behind you. "I'll be heading off now, his servant approaches. Do visit my chambers sometimes, won't you, love? I just know we'd make great accomplices."

She kissed your cheek.

"Beis–"

Her water mimic fizzled out.

"Bakunawa, Rex Lapis calls for you."

You snapped out of it.

The last Yaksha met your gaze. His arms were folded and he himself was just as indifferent. This command spells trouble for you, but you cannot bring yourself to complain. Xiao's eyes were tired and you do not wish to add more to his troubles. If he did saw Beisht and did nothing, it was likely due to the karmic binds.

You nodded.

"I'll be there at once, thank you, Xiao."

-------------

In hindsight, you should've been warier at the fact that Morax summoned you close to the shore where Osial was imprisoned in. Yet you still needed to clean up the remains of this war. It is your sworn duty to help Morax's people. Even if it meant going door to door to exterminate foul sea miscreations.

A bit ironic, considering Morax's whole spiel about eating seafood earlier.

"You have called for me, my lord?"

"Bakunawa…" He said. You do not like how he looked at you. "There are things I would like to confess."

You do not like where this is going.

"Go... Go on..."

"Bakunawa, I..."

He blushed as he took your hands. Morax's eyes were directly staring into your soul. You wanted to immediately pull away, but the thought of offending him with that more than your rejection started to creep in. You both stared at each other with uncertainty. From an outside perspective, it would look adorable. From your perspective, this was an absolute nightmare.

"I love you."

"Morax I–" You immediately stammered as he leaned forward.

His lips felt soft when pressed against your palm.

Morax pulled back.

He squinted.

"So... You still chose her."

You looked at your hand. Your wedding ring glowed.

With newfound resolve, you nodded.

"Always."

"I see..." Morax scowled.

"You must hope that you will not regret your choice."

The ground shook below you.

You didn't realize what was happening until you screamed your lungs out from the fall.

"What the– What's this..."

Morax looked down at you, distraught.

"BAKUNAWA, YOU ARE CONDEMNED TO A LIFE OF ETERNAL IMPRISONMENT FOR VIOLATING CLAUSE I OF SECTION A." A mechanical voice echoed around you.

"... What?"

"YOU WILL NOW UNDERGO PUNISHMENT BEFITTING OF TRAITORS. GLORY TO THE PRIME OF THE ADEPTI."

CLINK! CLANK!

You winced. Not due to physical pain, but due to the noises around you. You tried to turn back into a dragon but to no avail. Any effort you had in making the noises stop was futile until you regressed to a shaken mess.

Your eyes started to water as you gazed up at Morax through the glass. He stared back with discontent.

"M-Morax..."

You were wrong-- You were lied to.

Your assumptions and good intentions led you right into the dragon's trap.

You weren't looking at Morax when he was grieving. You were looking at yourself through Morax.

The cold-blooded dragon did not inch closer to you when it rested. It did not take solace in the warmth and kindness you offered. The reason it drew near, the reason it wrapped itself around you, was so it could snare you-- trap you to become his.

It is hard to wake up someone who is pretending to be asleep. And Morax had one eye open this entire time.

With how you ignored his affections for you, perhaps you were pretending as well.

Humans, dragons--- they're no different. All are filled with greed and unadulterated obsession. You never would've thought that a day would come that being shunned by humanity would be more enticing than receiving affection from a fellow dragon. There is no doubt that refusal will end with a terrible fate.

Because divine beings don't truly kill their enemies, they break them.

And you can't turn back to your original form.

You felt like vomiting.

The noise. It's getting louder

They kept clinking.

Clanging.

Clanking.

You could no longer hear your own thoughts.

"Make it stop."

You gritted your teeth as tears start to blur your vision.

You kneeled.

Your nails are dug through the shell of your ears.

You feel blood on your cuticles.

"MORAX MAKE IT STOP DAMNIT!!!"

You were sobbing. You were trembling.

He only looked down on you.

You can't tell what the scowl on his face meant from all the noise.

He left and robbed you of your only view of the outside world.

"MORAX!!! MORAX COME BACK!!!!"

He left you there for two hundred years. Trapped in the shell of the mortals you hated and the sounds they created.

------------

"And so, the terrifying Bakunawa was sealed away for trying to seal our moon! Legends spoke that they had fallen asleep and never reawakened when Osial recently reemerged, but a recent theory emerges from the sea…"

His hooked listeners leaned forward with anticipation, including Zhongli.

"Theorists believe…

That Bakunawa had escaped, and roams Teyvat to this day!"

You laughed.

Your laughter was as misplaced as a joke told at a funeral, but you cannot help it. It was so surreal. The proclamation had you shaking in your seat, holding back tears. You could just die laughing from these hysterics. Your face felt numb. The audience looked at Zhongli's once elegant and composed lover reduced to nothing more than a mere maniacal madman.

It was loud. It was jarring. It was eerie.

Zhongli held your hand to "fix you" and you stilled, but not without a final cackle.

Escaped? What an optimistic assumption! Morax took pity after watching you shrivel up in fear for two centuries. There was no means of escape from a domain created by Lord Guizhong. They all label you a traitor and now they think of you as a miracle worker. Can't they pick a side?

"(Y/n)." Behave yourself. That was a command.

You gave him a taunting look. Your face urged him to 'Go on. Call me by my real name' and he grunted.

"Pfft… Ah, my apologies, my husband," You waved your hand dismissively. Your hands were still jittery, and a few laughs managed to escape your lips. "Clause III, isn't it? I forget that I had come dangerously close to losing it. Do forgive me, everyone."

His grip tightened. Ah, right. You shouldn't mention your "freedom" contract in public.

"Clause III?" The boy behind you shared hushed whispers with his mother.

"… Do you not believe such stories, Mx. (Y/n)?" The storyteller spoke in low tones. "What do you find so joyful about such an alarming tale?"

Ahh, what a lark. You grinned briefly. Such manner of speech does not faze you.

"Oh no, quite the contrary sir I find it to be quite believable!" No man would ever believe such a reply. "Do tell-- What happens next?"

"W-Well," Iron Tongue Tian fixed his collar. One could argue that it was due to the summer heat, but you know better than that. "The tale ends here for today, if there is any more progress, I shall indulge everyone with the next chapter!"

"Oh no! We can't have that now can't we?" You looked around with a faux troubled expression. They stared back at you with varying degrees of discomfort.

Zhongli glared. "(Y/n)."

You sauntered to the stage and patted the storyteller's shoulder.

"Don't worry folks. I, (Y/n), shall continue this tale."

"(Y/N)!"

Zhongli called out to you, louder than before.

The earth trembled and clouds began to gather. Liyue Harbor slowly turned dim as the shades filtered sepia tones. The boy in the crowd held back tears, causing his mother to give you a dirty look. It wasn't just her, everyone looked at you the same way the mortals back home gazed at you.

With fear and hatred.

It was not (Y/n) they were meant to hate, but the true villain who sat with them. Your chest and eyelids felt heavy. But you were easier to hate as you tried to enlighten them with the truth.

Once again, Morax reduced you into nothing more than a blubbering, foolish villain.

The saying remains true. It is hard to wake up someone who is pretending to be asleep.

Finally, you turned to Zhongli with thin lips. He's already in front of you with a hand reached out. Perhaps the only reason why no one dared criticize you in public was because you were this respectable man's spouse. You bit your lip. Deep down, you had never been this upset in over five hundred years. You want to go home.

They were quiet.

There were no pots nor pans nor screaming to be heard, but the silence was just as loud.

"Let's come home, darling." He whispered threateningly.

Home is where your wife was.

"How…" You took his hand and whispered to his ear. Your voice cracked and your grip tightened.

"How can I go home?"

Zhongli did not answer. Instead, he dragged you away from the crowd. Neither of you spoke until you reached your shared house.

"Get some rest."

For once, you complied without question, something Zhongli greatly appreciated. You had enough for today.

You simply nodded and entered your bedroom.

Without warning, Zhongli's arms wrapped around your waist from behind. You stared at it. Those hands. They never once failed to reach out to you, but you lacked the will to grasp them. You shut your eyes close. Maybe it's time that you hold them as Morax insisted.

Your hands lingered above his.

Perhaps it's time you pretend to fall asleep as well.

#yandere fanfiction #yandere genshin x reader #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere oneshot #yandere zhongli #zhongli x reader #yandere genshin impact #morax x reader #yandere morax x reader #tag: liyue's monsoon #i had a male reader in mind when i wrote this tbh #yandere zhongli x reader #i lowkey simp for this characterization of beisht lol #ansy-writes

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zee-the-zebra · 7 months

Text

About The Kaveh Reincarnation Theory

I will make this theory make sense and no one can stop me.

Story Parallels

We know very little about the Goddess of Flowers but her connection to Kaveh is less about backstory and more his personality.

What do we know about her? She foresaw her own death in the cataclysm and didn’t run away from it. She facilitated her so she would leave a legacy greater than herself behind. And she did, creating the Jinn and the Khvarena. And what does Kaveh do on a near daily basis? Break himself over and over again to create things that will outlast him. And while he has succeeded in creating great things, he is still trying to make a legacy, no matter how much he brings himself to a closer ending than he should ever have.

Artifacts

Honeyed Final Feast

"In those days, the moonlight would tell of their happiness to the nightingale and the rose." "And they were so frightened and abashed that they could sing no song in response." "Peace and ease reigned, and there was no division or misfortune in this worriless paradise..." "If only these wonderful days, as lovely as a shimmering mirage, could last for eternity, and that they should never have to taste the bitterness of parting."

Could possibly parallel Kaveh and Al Haitham’s relationship before their falling out, as well as how Kaveh was living at what he thought to be the high point of his life before he ended up homeless.

Later, time sundered the contract between day and night, destroying the ancient oath. The gentle moonlight sank into the quicksand. The sun shrouded all things in its fearsome gaze.

The mention of quicksand is interesting, considering that is how Kaveh’s father died.

Dreaming Steelbloom

"When the moon leaves your palm, and the lonesome silver light retracts from atop the labyrinth on the sand ocean," "One hopes that you will remember how your companion in the dreams shone like the burning sun."

This is the same line I pulled for the Al Haitham write up but it still tracks as a possible parallel to Kaveh and Al Haitham’s falling out. Or rather, an implication that if things were to continue as they are, history might repeat itself between the “sun” and the “moon”

Ay-Khanoum's Myriad

In a bygone time which only the Jinn recall, the Lord of Flowers was cast aside by the heavens. Her magnificent vessel was left a savaged husk, her kinsfolk punished by way of being stripped of their minds... Legend has it that the Lord of Flowers wandered the barren wastes for seventy-two nights... Her heels were worn through by the merciless gravel. Her wounds gushed into limpid springs, turning into streams with no boundaries.

Could act as a parallel to Kaveh losing everything he has to create the palace and being homeless afterwards.

Wilting Feast

The Lord of Flowers capitulated to her friend's folly, finding a most admirable rebellion burning within the ambitions of the god. An idea that joined the wisdom of thousands, and the great attempt at binding their dreams to power. What hides here is more than lies, but also the future of humanity, burning like the sparks of hope... Dreams will always dissolve, their landscapes fated to collapse — this is the true meaning of the blooming flowers. Only by suffering through the destruction of a god's delusions can humanity learn to rise against divine will... Just as the stubborn God King orchestrated this secret rebellion, surviving on the strength of individual will alone. However, the Lord of Flowers never knew a love that could be as sweet as wine, let alone the paltriness of human emotion. Brilliant as she was, even she could not easily predict when these little beings would finally realize the truth... "... Have these so-called gods not been superfluous to you since the beginning?"

Oh boy, there’s a lot to unpack here, but I’ll attempt to simplify.

This is the very culmination of the parallels between Deshret and Nabu Maikata as well as Al Haitham and Kaveh. The main purpose here is that the Goddess of Flowers never truly agreed with Deshret. She could never fully believe in his ideas, yet she stayed by his side anyway in a hope that they could do something truly selfless for their people. This is almost one to one Al Haitham and Kaveh’s dynamic. They will never see eye to eye. Yet they are each other’s mirror, equals in every way.

And like the past, eventually these ideals clashed and the dream died. Deshret, like Al Haitham, chose to do all his work on his own. And Nabu, like Kaveh, did everything she could to be selfless, but could really only watch as her world crumbled. Nabu and Deshret’s love, like Kaveh and Al Haitham's, wasn't sweet. It was chaotic, all over the place, impossible to fully pin down and yet it was still there. After every tragedy, after every hardship, after the times where they believed they were nothing to each other, the emotions there had never grown dull.

The final thing to connect is the question Nabu was asked and the question Al Haitham asked Kaveh.

“How has realizing your ideals gone for you?”

For Nabu, the answer was to design a legacy born of both bitterness at life and the gods, as well as so those after her could live on. For Kaveh, he hasn’t figured out his answer yet.

Secret-Keeper's Magic Bottle

In a bygone time on which the Jinn alone are silent, King Deshret poured his deepest ambitions out before the Lord of Flowers... As the moonlight's visage drifted across ripples within a glass of pomegranate wine, the Lord of Flowers finally succumbed to the persuasion of a friend most beloved. The words King Deshret spoke that night remain unknown to all. Even the eldest Jinn bestow only silence when asked about that which was said. None know what secret desires King Deshret revealed in the dark past daylight, desires that might shock even the wisest of gods. But the Lord of Flowers herself drew enlightenment from the exchange. It had been within her calculus — something long foreseen. . . . "Know this: if there is to be hope in this world, it will be found kindling within mortals most ordinary."

Acts as a parallel to Kaveh and Al Haitham’s project while they were still in school. Also parallels Al Haitham’s closed off self reliance and Kaveh’s desire to give pieces of himself to others.

Connections to Real Life

The only name given to the Goddess of Flowers is Nabu Malikata. And while the first half of her name can’t really be attributed to Kaveh (Nabu being an ancient Mesopotamian god of literacy, the rational arts, scribes, and wisdom), the second half of her name can. Malikata can be translated to the ideogram of the Middle Persian word for queen, MLKTA. More proof of this is found in the Eternal Oasis, in her name is written as “NABU MLKTA” in the in-game Deshret Script, the same as the ideogram of the Middle Persian word.

Kaveh’s name, as I’ve learned (shout out to my friend Cado, who unintentionally helped me with a lot of this) is a very common Iranian/Persian name for boys. That’s just a fun fact, more specifically, the name came from the Shahnameh, or the Book of Kings. The name Kaveh was used for a character in the tale of Zahak the Serpent King, in which the Zoroastrian gods played major roles.

The Goddess of Flowers, created something known as Khvarena, which in Genshin is a purifying spirit, but in Zoroastrianism, is a concept of a divine power projected upon and aiding the appointed. While it could be considered grasping at straws, reincarnation or being the vessel of divine power could be considered a form of Khvarena in real life Zoroastrianism.

Now, we have no Goetic name or twisting of a Goetic name for Nabu Malikata, we can also lift from Egyptian mythology considering Deshret’s true name is Amun. The consort of Amun/Amun-Ra is Mut, sky, fertility and matriarch goddess said to be born from the primordial waters of Nu. This could be the proof of Nabu Malikata’s true name as she has been shown to have connections with Egeria, who wielded the power of the Primordial Sea. And, while not directly from Fontaine does have connections to it as his mother moved there.

As for Mut as a name, it could be twisted in Mathim, an alternate reading of Bathin, a demon said to know the virtues of precious stones and herbs.

Conclusion

Oddly enough I feel like this theory is far more concrete than the one with Al Haitham. With references to Persian mythology, mytho-history, and history in both the Goddess of Flowers and Kaveh, as well as the parallels in their stories, the theory actually feels very water-tight. Perhaps my theory with the most proof to date.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact theory #genshin theory #kaveh #genshin kaveh #goddess of flowers #nabu malikata #should I tag the ship?#i'm tagging the the ship #al haitham #alhaitham #haikaveh #kavetham #it's not really about the ship but i do mention it #so this is just to be safe

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crazycatsiren · 11 months

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My personal prayer beads

Mala:

Used in the context of Buddhism, a mala is a loop of prayer beads used for counting and keeping track of prayers/recitations when performing japa (meditative repetition of a mantra, sacred sound, or a divine name/epithet).

A mala consists of 108 beads. Often, factors of 108 such as 54, 27, 18 exist on the mala as well. A 109th "guru bead", not used for/included in prayer counting, is also very common.

The origin of the mala is actually unknown, which gives you an idea of just how old the religions that use it are. As far as my native land is concerned, there are no references to the use of malas in Chinese literature before the introduction of Buddhism during the Han dynasty. Historians can only theorize that the practice may have spread from India to China at that point in time.

Why 108 beads? There are lots of theories on this one, but the number itself has remained consistent. The number 108 holds religious significance in ancient Indian religions (including Buddhism). Traditional Buddhists believe that humans come with 108 afflictions or kleshas (mortal mental states that cloud the mind and manifest in unwholesome human actions). 108 is also the number of possible dharmas. In some Buddhist traditions, the 109th guru bead represents Amitabha Buddha or the bodhisattva Avalokitesvara (the East Asian depiction/counterpart/equivalent of whom is Guanyin) who has 108 avatars.

Rosary:

The rosary ("crown of roses" or "garland of roses") is a string of prayer beads used primarily in Catholicism. The Rosary prayer, which the rosary beads are used for, is arranged in sets of 10 Hail Marys, referred to as "decades". Each decade is preceded by 1 Lord's Prayer and followed by 1 Glory Be. The rosary beads are used for saying these prayers in their proper sequence and tracking their numbers.

Traditionally, 5 decades are recited in 1 session, and each decade recalls and meditates on 1 of the Mysteries of the Rosary (events in the lives of Jesus Christ and his mother the Virgin Mary).

A litte bit about the Mysteries of the Rosary: In the 16th century, Pope Pius V established 15 Mysteries, and these Mysteries are grouped into 3 sets with 5 Mysteries in each set (the Joyful Mysteries, the Sorrowful Mysteries, the Glorious Mysteries). Then in 2002, Pope John Paul II added a new set of 5 Mysteries, called the Luminous Mysteries. Now we have a total number of 20 Mysteries divided into 4 equal sets. The mysteries are recommended to be prayed on specific days of the week.

The exact origin of the rosary is subject to debate among scholars. The use of knotted prayer ropes in Christianity goes back to the Desert Fathers in the 3rd and early 4th centuries. The practice of meditation while praying "Hail Mary" goes back to Dominic of Prussia, a 15th-century Carthusian monk, and he called the practice "Life of Jesus Rosary" (vita Christi Rosarium). Then in 1977, Andreas Heinz, a theologian from Trier, discovered a vita Christi rosary that's thought to date all the way back to 1300. Pious tradition legend has it, the idea of the Rosary was given to Dominic of Osma by an apparition of the Virgin Mary in 1214 in the church of Prouille, and this apparition received the title of Our Lady of the Rosary.

#prayers #prayer beads #rosary #mala #catholicism #buddhism #religions #polytheism

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beardedmrbean · 21 days

Note

Okay you can criticize both but this remind of something funny

https://x.com/updatingonrome/status/1779261250528055645?s=46

So when Assassin Creed Odyssey came out, the devs wanted to flex the fact that the Ancient Greece was very colorful so they gave a lot of buildings and clothing colorful designs

Wait did I ever see a classic Greek Chiton in it? Maybe once, but the Greek clothing was very detail and such

(Also they have the Father of Medicine his balding curse you can see in that marble statue of him. Yet Herodotus was a okay….)

Also in case your wondering about the statues, well it varies

Some was pure whites, some seem to be wip, and others was fully colored they probably wanted to be careful with that as most people only know the pure marble ones so plenty of gamers probably went “huh?”

Also they did a thing where you can find a giant snake skeleton near where the oracle was at. Actually I think origins and Odyessy went with the idea that a lot of creatures such as Apophis and the Orochi are actually Ancients humans not able to understand prehistoric or dinosaur bones so they became myth and legends. At there was a fun fact in the loading screen saying that where a lot of mythos monsters came from due to fossils

Sure hope Orochi in red was that…giving the amount of drugs I did in origins and Valhalla…

Oh FUCK he probably going to be the boss fight to get that special sword.

Actually one time for women day, you reblog a post that used ACO model for Aspria in it

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/962574120331865240/

But seriously what with the muted colors schemes in media? Curse you GOT!

Ubisoft Quebec team who did Odyssey and is the main studio on red. Please remember a good color plate for Japan please!

Based

So when Assassin Creed Odyssey came out, the devs wanted to flex the fact that the Ancient Greece was very colorful so they gave a lot of buildings and clothing colorful designs

There was lots of colour all over all through history, not sure where people got the idea is was bland. Sure some dyes were expensive and reserved for royalty but not all.

Also in case your wondering about the statues, well it varies Some was pure whites, some seem to be wip, and others was fully colored they probably wanted to be careful with that as most people only know the pure marble ones so plenty of gamers probably went “huh?”

I did know that one, also the noses are one of the weakest parts and fall off on their own.

You could say that

Sure hope Orochi in red was that…giving the amount of drugs I did in origins and Valhalla… Oh FUCK he probably going to be the boss fight to get that special sword. Actually one time for women day, you reblog a post that used ACO model for Aspria in it

I vaguely recall that,

But seriously what with the muted colors schemes in media? Curse you GOT! Ubisoft Quebec team who did Odyssey and is the main studio on red. Please remember a good color plate for Japan please!

We get it, it's dark and gritty, but can you turn the lights up some so we can see that please.

That's a thing we're all annoyed about I think.

#zoomer huey anon

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springfallendeer · 6 months

Text

Newfound Treasure (Vampire!Eclipse x Reader)

This here is a commission that I recently finished. I had a lot of fun with it. It takes place in the same AU as "Celestial Pact", but is sort of a run-off idea of the Reader getting into a relationship with Eclipse. Specifically a relationship in which the Vampiric Deity becomes very possessive of them. (This is definitely the result of me relentlessly bullying someone with ideas of Vampire Eclipse being possessive).

Par for the course, it contains things like biting, blood drinking, and some implications of violence and animal death.

Female reader, though I don't get overly involved in descriptions this time. No nicknames. Just a story about finding a wounded God and them falling in love with you (or developing an obsession with you).

Part 1: Newfound Treasure

The blood of a God.

An ichor saturated in power far beyond the grasp, or the understanding of mankind. Thick. Never to be spilt without justifiable cause, lest horrific curses fall upon thee who dared to draw it.

That forbidden substance now marks a trail on the path. Glowing, and hot, it naturally draws your attention; and the attention of all others in the town; to its source.

Like the others around you, you tremble at the sight of the wounded God.

Like the others around you, you recall the many horrific legends that revolve around the Deity, and what he is capable of doing to those like you.

He is an ancient, powerful God of the Cosmos. A being which rules over space and all that exists within it. One which is capable of destroying this world and others like it; one which has, most definitely, brought other worlds to ruin.

If that alone was not terrifying enough, he doubles as a God of Vampirism. And like the others afflicted with the curse, he is doomed to sustain himself on the blood and flesh of mortals.

He is the origin of the curse. He may very well be the only means of ending it. But that... That cannot be proven, and proving it would only lead to catastrophe.

You anxiously watch as the Deity limps through the town.

His frozen flesh is battered and torn, seemingly from a violent battle with another God. A battle which he surely must have won, otherwise he would no longer be standing.

Glowing ichor seeps from the many open wounds. His heated blood steams and sizzles upon meeting the ground, where it gradually cools and loses its fiery hue.

Everyone gives him a wide berth, terrified of what might happen should they allow him to draw near enough to reach out and touch them.

He... Pays them no mind, strangely enough.

In fact, he seems quite lost. He looks dazed. Delirious, even. As though he is not only unsure of where he is, but unsure of where he means to go.

He isn’t reacting to the people around him, or even looking in anyone’s direction. Even though he must be hungry, it is as though he is ignorant to the presence of food.

Or perhaps... Perhaps he is intentionally ignoring the people around him?

Perhaps he is frightened, because he is hurt and lost?...

The idea of that being the case... Makes you strangely sad.

Empathy really is a powerful thing. Capable of overwriting fear or logic.

Tentatively, you reach into your pocket to retrieve a handkerchief.

Though you hesitate... You eventually work up the nerve to approach him.

His eyes flicker to you the instant that you step towards him, rather than away. But he takes his gaze off of you just as quickly, making you believe that he really must be intentionally ignoring the many humans that inhabit this space around him.

Maybe he is afraid... No. He must be afraid. Afraid of you, and afraid of the people that are standing around gawking at him.

Cautiously, you make your way over to him. You stop well within arms reach of him, and nervously extend your hand towards him.

Your hand trembles as you bring the handkerchief to his cheek.

He keeps his eyes off of you, up until the fabric comes into contact with his face. The instant that he feels you touch him, his focus moves to you and to you alone.

His gaze burns with the intensity of the sun. A sun blocked out by the body of the moon, in hopes of preventing your soul from being burned by its light…

You know now why he is the one that they call “Eclipse”.

His gaze alone proves so intense that you nearly recoil in fright.

Just nearly.

Instead, you guide your trembling hand to the deep gash upon his cheek, where the handkerchief immediately soaks up the thick, glowing blood that flows from the wound.

You yank your hand almost immediately after. Not because you’re afraid, but because his blood proves hot enough to scald your delicate flesh.

He visibly flinches in response to your abrupt movement, seemingly startled. Or perhaps he simply resists the urge to reach out and touch you in turn.

You see one of his many arms shift ever so slightly at his side, as though he meant to reach out for you. But if that was his desire, then he hesitated, and in doing so resisted the urge to reach out and... Do something. You don’t know what he would do if he actually reached for you.

But you’re perfectly safe!... Probably. Hopefully.

Hopefully the actions taken today will not come back to haunt you…

He keeps his eyes locked on you as you stand before him. His gaze is somehow not only intense, but heavy. It burns your soul just like his blood has burnt your hand. And while you somehow urge yourself to maintain eye contact with him, you cannot help but feel as though a crushing weight is slowly settling over your meager frame.

“I-I-!” You stammer, opening your mouth to speak before you can even think of something to say. But having not even taken the time to determine what you actually mean to do, you then close your mouth just as quickly.

His posture changes ever so slightly in response to your voice. You swear you see him straighten out his hunched body. If he were to straighten out and stand at his true height, you have no doubt that he would tower over you.

You are but a child in comparison to his full stature. If he were to stand up properly, you are unsure if you would even be able to work up the nerve to try and speak to him, yet alone approach him as you have done.

You take a deep breath in hopes of composing yourself.

When you next open your mouth, it is because you have taken the time to think of the right words to say.

“You look tired, my Lord...” You awkwardly murmur, taking a slight step back so that you might offer the Deity a respectful half bow.

“If it would please you, you are welcome to come and rest in my home.” You offer, albeit with a note of uncertainty obvious in your voice.

You then fall silent.

Honestly... You don’t expect much of a verbal response from him, if any. The stories that you’ve been told have all made him out to be this silent, malevolent force that would sooner tear your head off your shoulders to guzzle your blood than share a single word with you.

But at the same time... The stories seemed wrong. They made him out to be this monstrous force that desired only to devour the mortals of this world; so much so that he was forced to lock himself away, otherwise he would consume everything that came into his line of sight.

Yet here he was, limping through a human town without offering so much as a malicious gaze and flinching in response to an unexpected human touch.

The stories had to be wrong. Or at least heavily embellished.

You are safe.

Or at least you assumed yourself to be safe, until he finally got around to fully standing up.

He had basically been kneeling in front of you due to wounds on his legs. Wounds which must have made it painful for him to walk, as he had kept them mostly curled up whilst he limped through the town. That was why you had been able to reach out and touch his face in the first place.

You see his body shudder and strain in response to the change in posture, as if attempting to fight off the urge to curl back up so that the pain would be kept at a reasonable level.

You seem to shrink as he rises to his full height. Or at least, you feel as though you're shrinking whilst you watch him grow before your very eyes.

Skies above, he towers over you! He is easily, easily, twice your height. If not taller.

He also seems a lot less docile now that he has stood up fully.

Nothing about his expression has changed. Nor has his pain become any less apparent. It is genuinely scary how easily he can remind you of your own mortality simply by standing and observing you with his body straightened out.

He could crush you beneath his heel. Or pick you up and tear your limbs off like a child ripping the wings off of a fly. Or throw you to the far side of the town with the ease of a man tossing a stone.

Nothing about his expression implies that he has any desire to do such brutal things to you. But his alarmingly massive height, mixed with the many stories of your youth, and the intensity of his gaze all work together to simply make you feel…

Insignificant.

You are nothing compared to him and you will continue to be nothing whether or not he kills you or ignores you.

Despite being absolutely terrified, you do not run from him. Nor do you withdraw your gaze from his. Some part of you has seemingly been paralyzed by his divine presence, and that is the part of you that would allow you to retreat.

Tears well in your eyes as you stare up at him. Not only from the fear, but because you have not blinked once since first locking eyes with him.

He reaches for your face just as that first tear rolls down your cheek.

You don’t even flinch when you feel his fingers brush against your damp skin, though you are unsure of how you manage to keep still.

But you do calm down, somewhat, in response to the contact.

You can feel the gentleness in his touch as he wipes away your tears. The simple contact proves more than enough to make it clear that he has no intention; yet alone any desire; to harm you.

And that is all the reassurance that you need to calm yourself in his presence. Though you do, unfortunately, remain easily intimidated by him. So you do not fully relax, despite understanding that he harbors no ill will towards you.

You find yourself absently leaning into his touch. Just slightly.

Though his blood is boiling hot, his skin is cold as ice. It warms faintly in response to your heat. Not enough to resemble the warmth of human touch, but enough to almost feel pleasant against your skin.

He remains silent for a very long time as he stands there with his hand against your cheek.

You remain silent in turn.

The town remains just as silent, as if frozen by the astonishing events which are taking place. No one moves. No one speaks. Even the birds and the wind have fallen silent, as if waiting with bated breath to see what will unfold as a result of your actions.

“Are you not afraid?” He suddenly asks, admittedly startling you to the point that you jolt in response to his voice.

He does not sound nearly as monstrous as the stories made him out to be. In fact, his voice is... Surprisingly pleasant. Smooth and deep, but calm. It is the voice of a guardian and a protector. Not the voice of a ravenous beast bent on bloodshed.

“I am... A little.” You admit in response. The idea of lying or even downplaying your anxiety never even crosses your mind. And so you reply to him with complete and total honesty.

You are afraid of him, yes. But you are afraid of him in the same way that you fear a large dog, or a horse. The fear comes from knowledge that you could be easily harmed by an entity so much stronger than you. But you know, based upon the behavior of this powerful entity, that the danger is not real.

He has no intention of harming you, and you can feel it. So while you are afraid of his power, you are at ease with his ability to keep that power under control.

“But you should be terrified. Am I not monstrous? Do you not fear what I might do to you?” He asks in turn, as if dissatisfied with your overall response. He almost sounds... Startled. Or confused. It seems as though he cannot fathom the idea that his presence alone does not fill you with dread.

Yet even as he seemingly attempts to instill you with more fear, his touch remains gentle. The only change that you can feel is a slight tremor in his hand; likely from the pain of maintaining his stance when covered in so many wounds.

“You don’t want to hurt me.” You bluntly and confidently reply.

“Are you certain?” He questions, spitting out his words so quickly that he would have interrupted you had you actually had more to say. So quickly, in fact, that even his voice seems to tremble; even if only slightly.

“I could devour you here, in front of all your friends and family. They would be able to do nothing to save you.”

“Yet you touch my cheek so gently, my Lord...” You murmur in response.

You feel his hand twitch somewhat in response to your words, but he otherwise falls still and silent.

Finally, you find the will to blink. Or rather, you wind up calming down enough that you can finally relax your eyes.

Intense as his gaze has been, it was never really all that threatening. As in you did not look into his eyes and sense any manner of malice. They were just... Powerful; as the eyes of a God should rightly be.

That power startled you and made your poor mortal soul seize up in alarm, that was all.

In a way, you had simply been awestruck. The eyes of the Divine are not so regularly encountered. As the windows to the soul, you found yourself unwittingly staring at something that your fragile, moral mind could not immediately comprehend. Of course you would freeze up in response!

For a few moments, he remains silent.

You remain silent in turn, absently leaning into the palm of his hand as he stares down at you.

Every now and again you resume eye contact with him, and your body stiffens faintly as if on the brink of seizing up. But the sensation grows weaker and weaker between each blink as your mind and soul adjust to the dominating presence of a God.

Eclipse breaks the silence with a sigh.

A long, tired, pained sigh. And as he sighs, his body relaxes and submits to the agony that has overtaken it. He shrinks back down as he curls up, seemingly satisfied enough with this interaction to stop putting up a brave front.

Whatever he meant to do, he must be satisfied with the outcome. Though you aren’t sure if he meant to chase you away or test your honesty.

And, honestly, you aren’t going to ask. Who are you to question the motivations of a God? Yet alone a wounded one who would have every reason to be cautious while in this vulnerable state.

“I would like to rest.” He finally replies, having decided that he would take you up on your offer.

You then cautiously reach up to your cheek to wrap your hand around his, so that you can guide him to your home.

“Can you walk?” You quietly ask, naturally aware of how hard it must be for him to move if he is in this much pain.

If needed, you could probably find a wagon or an animal that could be used to move him. He genuinely looks exhausted.

“I am tired. But I will manage.” He replies.

You do not question him on the matter. It is not your place to do so.

So you gently pull on his hand to guide him towards your home; which is, unfortunately, a good distance away. He will have to limp after you for a while. And you will have to endure the many heavy stares of the other people in town as you guide this wounded, Vampiric God to your home.

The journey is made in silence. Neither you nor Eclipse speak. The people that you pass by do not make a sound; though their eyes scream loud enough whenever you dare lock your gaze with someone.

The only real sound to be heard is that of footsteps. Yours as they steadily trek along the path, and his as his feet scrape heavily against the stone.

His every footstep grows heavier and more tedious as you walk with him. But as a God, he is nothing if not powerful. He manages to endure the journey to your home. He even endures the difficult journey up the stairs to your guest bedroom, where you encounter something of a problem.

He will not fit... Anywhere. You brought him upstairs because there was no place for him to properly rest downstairs. But none of the beds in your home are large enough to support his body.

This is when you get your first glimpse of what he is capable of doing.

You hear him murmur something in a language that you cannot understand. And then you watch, admittedly dumbstruck, as the room warps and changes around you.

The foundation of your home creaks and groans as wood and stone stretch to accommodate his size. The bed and bedding make concerning sounds of violent destruction as they too transform to better support him.

The room and the bed grow larger to provide him with a comfortable place to rest. And when all is said and done, the Deity is left looking even more exhausted.

Once the initial shock of what you’ve just witnessed wears off, you give Eclipse’s arm another tug to guide him to his newly redone bed.

Thankfully, he is able to climb up on his own; though he is left gasping for breath after the fact.

He settles onto his back and folds his hands atop his torso. You listen for a moment as he breathes heavily, and you awkwardly stand nearby as he attempts to recover from the recent strain.

“Uhm...” You... Make a bit of an awkward noise in preparation to speak. It at least catches his attention.

“Can I get you anything, my Lord?” You ask.

It was only polite of you to try and tend to your guest. He was wounded and tired and while you were unsure of how to ease away his discomfort, you still had every intention of doing what you could to be of help.

“Blood.” Eclipse bluntly replies.

Your stomach sinks.

While you probably should have anticipated such a response, there was something of a difference between suspecting something and having it actually happen.

The Deity seems to take notice of your sudden shift in mood.

Or maybe he just noticed how quickly you went pale in response to his request.

You watch as he closes his eyes and covers them with the back of his hand.

He takes a deep, wheezing breath.

“Not your blood.” He calmly specifies.

“A goat or a sheep will do fine. Even a pig, if that’s all that you can find.” He states.

You stare at him, completely bewildered by his statement, as he begins to feel around his body.

He pats along his chest and sides, and along his hips as if in search of something. Until eventually he manages to locate what he’s looking for.

He then holds up a small coin pouch. Based upon the sag of it, you can tell that it contains quite a few coins.

He uncovers his eyes to look at you as he properly holds the pouch out for you to take.

“There should be more than enough here to purchase an animal.” He states as you tentatively reach out to accept the coin pouch.

You’re admittedly startled by the weight of it. Where the pouch should only hold around ten to fifteen coins, it feels as though it's being used to carry over a hundred!

“I only need the blood. You may keep the meat to use it as you will.” He adds.

In other words, you’re to go and buy him an animal to use for food. He’ll take the blood, and you’ll keep the rest.

It sounds like more than a fair trade, to be honest. Him giving you such a considerable amount of food in exchange for providing him with shelter and care.

Yet for some reason, you hesitate.

“Will animal blood really satisfy you?...” You find yourself hesitantly asking.

Call it morbid curiosity. Or call it genuine concern; or confusion. But for some reason, you aren’t really satisfied with the idea of just going out to buy an animal for him to drain of its vital essence.

“It will not be the same as human blood.” Eclipse calmly replies.

He then falls silent.

You remain quiet for a short while as you weigh your thoughts.

You want to be a good host. Eclipse himself has just admitted that while he will drink animal blood, human blood is what will be of more help to him.

You know that he is wounded and in an obviously weakened state; which likely means that he will struggle to perform his Godly duties until he has healed.

Not only that. If another Deity were to arrive to challenge him while he was in this state... Would he even be able to fend them off?...

You try to ignore the faint trembling of your hand as you reach to place the coin purse on the edge of the bed.

This is probably a foolish idea.

A very foolish idea.

You carefully undo the first few buttons of your shirt to further expose your neck and shoulders.

“What are you doing?...” Eclipse unexpectedly asks. He almost sounds nervous.

“You said that human blood would be better...” You murmur in response, hesitantly working your shirt down one shoulder to better expose an area for him to bite.

“Animal blood will serve me just fine-” He attempts to rebuke you, only to stiffen as you step closer to the bed and begin to climb up.

The instant that your knee presses into the mattress, he goes silent.

“... I cannot offer much, my Lord. But you may drink what I can give. And I will fetch an animal after.” You reply.

Human blood would be better for him. So having a drink from you along with the animal blood would be better than just giving him an animal to drain, would it not? You would effectively be giving him a nutritious boost to make the less desirable food more substantial.

It was like adding fresh meat to a dish that only drew protein from eggs. You would add to the nutritional value of the meal, rather than leave it as it would be; incomplete.

Eclipse seems visibly uneasy as you climb further onto the bed.

He opens and closes his mouth a few times, seemingly unable to find the words to protest what you’re doing.

You can hear how dry his mouth is. Each time he parts his lips, you can hear how they struggle to peel away from each other. You can hear his tongue pull away from the roof of his mouth.

He must be parched.

You hope that this will not leave you... Compromised. Yeah, that’s the word. Compromised. Worse off than you are now.

There certainly isn’t a better word to describe what you’re afraid of.

Honestly, you half expected to have to force the Deity to take your blood, given his hesitation. So when he abruptly reaches out to drag you down on top of him, you cannot help the little gasp of surprise that escapes you.

His touch feels different, now. Intense and desperate.

His blood soaks into your clothes as you lay across his body. If not for the cold temperature of his flesh, his boiling ichor might have burned your delicate skin.

It is still hot. But not hot enough to be painful.

Goosebumps form upon your skin as you feel his heated breath roll across the nape of your neck.

“Are you certain?” He asks, taking this last opportunity to try and scare you away or convince you to back out.

Though you tremble in response to his voice rattling against the side of your neck, you do not retreat.

“You may have what I can offer.” You reply in turn, intentionally using very specific words.

He may only take what you can afford to give him. Nothing more.

Given his experience and his power, he should know what that limit is and he should be able to prevent himself from crossing that line. You have no choice but to put faith in that ideal now that you have offered yourself onto him.

He offers no additional rebuttal. No additional warnings or arguments of any sorts.

What you next feel is his mouth upon your throat. Ravenous and desperate.

You feel the bitter sting of his teeth piercing your skin; the dull ache of blood seeping from the wound with each beat of your heart.

His tongue is hot. Just like his breath. And despite the pain, you find yourself strangely drawn to it. Lured in by the forbidden pleasure which dwells at the edge of the great bleed.

He greedily consumes every drop of blood that spills from your throat, and you feel your body growing weaker with every passing second. Each contraction of his throat pulls more and more of your vital essence for him to consume.

He only bites you once, and he drinks until the blood stops flowing. Then he yanks his mouth from your throat as if startled by his own actions.

You’re still conscious, but you’re exhausted. Just trying to lift your head proves strenuous. More so when the Deity proceeds to lay an arm across your back, causing you to effectively fall down completely on top of him.

“Rest.” Eclipse quietly murmurs.

“But the goat...” You mutter in response, your voice now as quiet and exhausted as his is.

He proceeds to lay a second arm over top of you, literally trapping you with him on the bed in the process.

“You must rest.” He repeats his command, this time a little more sternly.

“I took a lot from you. As much as you could give, just as you offered. But it was more than enough to weaken you...” He sighs, having clearly decided that you’re entitled to a reason behind him insisting that you should stay and rest. Or maybe he had figured out that if you were not given a good enough reason, you would continue to try and leave so that you could buy him a goat.

“... It would bother me, greatly, to know that you left on my behalf only to get hurt. The animal could overwhelm you. Or mean spirited people could lash out at you, for daring to show me this kindness. I do not wish for you to be harmed because of me.” He explains further.

You can clearly hear the pain in his tone as he speaks. Pain and fear.

The idea of you getting hurt genuinely upsets him. It hurts him to think that you might get hurt because of him, and he is very much afraid that you will be harmed as a result of helping him.

You cannot help but chance a glance towards his face.

He looks so... Conflicted. Tired and conflicted. This whole situation must be so alien to him, given how heavily feared he is.

A reluctant sigh escapes you as you allow your eyes to close.

He really is kind. Surprisingly so, for someone depicted in such a monstrous light.

“I’ll rest.” You murmur, hoping to reassure the being that you will do as he has asked of you.

“Just for a little while, though. You’ll need more blood if you want to recover, right?” You add.

He shouldn’t complain about that sort of arrangement, right?

You hear him sigh in turn.

“When you can climb out from under my arms without a struggle, you may go.” Eclipse retorts.

You furrow your brows somewhat in response.

That sure is a strange way to go about doing things. But then again... Well there isn’t a better means of gauging your strength right now, is there? He certainly isn’t in any state to give you a less unusual means of testing your strength.

He wasn’t holding you down. He had just laid his arms across your back. You just happen to be so worn out from his feeding that you don’t have the strength to hold yourself up with his arms on your back. Simple as that.

“... Very well.” You mutter, opting not to try and argue with him on the matter.

He did have a point. With you this weak, the goat; or any other animal you might buy; would probably be able to overpower you if it decided to act up. And then you wouldn’t have the strength to chase it down and catch it if it somehow managed to get away from you.

There was also no telling if anyone in town would be willing to help you catch the rowdy beast, given the circumstances. So you were better off just trying to rest while you had the chance.

Even if it was a bit awkward that you were using the wounded God as a bed...

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Part 2: Treasure Claimed

Ten days.

That was how long it took for Eclipse to recover from his injuries. Ten days.

Ten days of routine care. Ten days of fetching him livestock to use for sustenance. Ten days of helping him clean his wounds. Ten days of fretting.

Ten days of watching him heal, and watching him open up to you.

He isn’t a monster at all. The Vampiric curse just has a habit of taking good people and twisting them into unrecognizable husks of their true selves when they fail to satiate their thirst for blood.

He feeds from animals because he does not want to hurt people. He does not want to be the monster that they think him to be.

During his stay, he has only allowed himself to feed from you thrice. Each time, you had to convince him that he was allowed to do so. And each time he made sure to treat you with utmost care.

With each bite, the feeding became less painful, and more pleasant. Relaxing, even.

In a weird way, you would probably miss the tired feeling that washed over you following each feeding session.

But you were probably just going to miss him in general.

Today was meant to be his last day with you. You went out to fetch one last goat. So that you could celebrate his recovery and send him on his way with a full stomach.

This time, the farmer wasn’t happy to see you.

Ten goats you had bought from him. Ten strong, healthy goats that he would have rather used for breeding, or for his own needs. All of them were sold to you so that you could feed them to a “Ravenous God”, as he called Eclipse.

He did not want to sell you an eleventh goat. He did not want to sell you another animal, period. Not if you were just going to use it to satiate the bloodlust of the “Monstrous Deity” that you brought into your home and encouraged to stay in town.

Now your arm hurts.

The farmer was needlessly rough in turning you down and sending you on your way. A faint burning, almost itchy sensation on your shoulder remained as some proof of the physical damage that had been done. Not to mention the red mark surrounding the small scratches that were barely hidden under your shirt.

You solemnly rub your shoulder in a vain attempt at soothing the discomfort.

This was not the first time that someone had manhandled you, and it would not be the last. But this has soured your mood, unfortunately.

No one else in town would sell to you. Not while Eclipse was here. None of them wanted to provide a meal to the Deity, as they believed that it encouraged him to stay or to return in search of food.

No one wanted him here.

Aside from you.

Now you had to go home and tell him that there would be no goat tonight. No goat, or sheep, or anything. He would have to take his leave on an empty stomach, unless he would be satisfied with one last drink of your blood.

Heck, you could use the relaxation that his feeding would bring, because you felt pleasantly heavy and tired whenever he finished. It would be nice to just lay down and sleep and not have to worry about anything.

You ignore the various looks you receive as you make your way back home.

Eclipse is there to greet you when you step inside.

For a split second you see something flash in his eyes, but you hardly have the time to register what it is.

Concern, most likely. It is obvious that you’re upset. Given how attentive he has been to you during his stay here; at least in the sense that he has worried over your wellbeing.

“I could not get you a goat. I’m sorry.” You murmur as you haphazardly remove your coat. You also offer him back his coin purse, as there is no need for you to keep hold of it.

“What happened?” Eclipse asks in response.

You swear that you hear something in his voice. A heightened emotion of some sort. But honestly, you’re so worked up that you can’t be bothered to really focus on it.

“You may feed from me if you’re hungry.” You reply, completely ignoring his question. You do not want to talk about it. You do not want to discuss how the people in the town have decided to turn on you in response to you having provided this being with food and shelter.

You then jump and freeze as the Deity proceeds to slam his hand into the wall over your shoulder when you turn away from him.

He easily could have put his hand through the wall if he had wanted too. But he did not.

The tension in the room is palpable now.

Fear bubbles up inside of you as the Vampiric God proceeds to trap you between himself and the wall.

His gaze is intense and burning. You can feel your skin tingle in response to his eyes.

More so when he leans down to bring his face right next to your ear.

“What happened?” He repeats, sternly.

Now you can definitely hear it. The anger in his voice.

Goosebumps rise on your skin as he brings a hand up to easily tug down the collar of your shirt, exposing the minor injury that the farmer left on your shoulder during your confrontation.

Multiple thin lines reveal where nails roughly dragged against your skin. The slightest hint of pink shows that while shallow, the wounds were just deep enough to draw trace amounts of blood.

You shudder, feeling Eclipse’s heated breath roll down over the marks on your shoulder.

His tongue follows suit. Initially, to clean the wound.

But then he bites you. Unexpectedly and without warning.

He sinks his teeth in, easily engulfing the wound with his mouth and surrounding it with the imprint of his teeth.

You whine at the sharp sting of the initial puncture, then gasp at the feel of his tongue dragging against the fresh wound upon release.

You offered your blood a moment ago. And even though he’s bitten you, it's obvious that he is not feeding.

Whatever he’s doing now feels closer to... Domination. Or possessiveness. It's as though he’s overwhelmed the injury inflicted upon you by the farmer with a wound of his own making.

Your legs are trembling by the time he sucks his tongue back into his mouth so that he can move his face back to your ear.

The wound is still bleeding, but he has elected to ignore it.

“What happened?!” He repeats again, the anger in his voice getting more intense this time; possibly because you’ve opted to ignore his question twice now. Even if the second time wasn’t entirely your fault, given his unexpected attack.

Only now do you realize how heavily you’re breathing. Likely from the adrenaline rush that came with being cornered like this.

You’ve never seen him so worked up. It's genuinely intimidating. Threatening, even.

Eclipse goes back to licking the blood from your wound as he waits for your response. His tongue focuses unnecessarily on the small scratches that the farmer gave you, as if attempting to completely erase the marks.

Little do you realize that that is his plan, and that he succeeds.

He commands the minor wound to completely heal through the movements of his tongue, while simply lapping up the blood that seeps from his bite in the meantime.

“T-the farmer-” You whine, genuinely distracted by the motions of his heated tongue against your skin. Whatever he’s doing is making you feel all tingly, in a weird sort of way.

What’s fucked up is that you’re pretty sure you like it. But you’re also so intimidated by him that it's hard to tell.

Eclipse withdraws his tongue completely when you finally start talking. Though he remains a distraction in pressing his face into the crook of your neck.

You can hear him panting. His breath rolls across your skin in heated pulses.

“The f-farmer was angry. He would not sell me a goat... And he was rough in making me leave.” You admit.

The Deity seems to growl in response. Though the sound was so faint that you hardly hear it.

You suddenly feel his teeth against the side of your throat.

He doesn’t bite you. Not immediately. He just uses his teeth and mouth to coax your head back so that you will further expose your neck to him.

You comply, even as you tremble in anticipation.

His lips wrap around your throat. You feel his teeth pressing faintly into your flesh; but he still does not bite.

He does not bite, yet he sucks roughly on your skin.

A pathetic sound escapes you in response. A pathetic and embarrassing sound, at that.

You should be terrified, given how he’s behaving. He’s acting like a territorial animal threatening to tear you apart!

Yet despite your anxiety, you cannot deny how arousing this situation is.

The panting. The firm, controlling physical contact. Everything from his nuzzling to his biting has been used to assert some level of power over you, and yet he has not done anything to hurt you.

Well... The bite did sting at first and it is technically a wound. But you do not perceive that as him having harmed you.

You aren’t quite sure what’s gotten into him, and as confused and anxious as you are, you don’t really hate it.

You’re... Uncertain. Unsure as to what he’s doing or why, or what he even means to do with you.

When he finally pulls his mouth from your throat, you hear the audible pop of your skin escaping the intense suction of his lips.

A faint sting makes it clear that he’s left a mark.

No.

He’s left a hickey on your neck.

You feel your cheeks flush the instant that that realization dawns on you. Which in turn draws his attention to your face, prompting him to nuzzle your cheek while making... A noise that sounds somewhere between a growl and a purr.

Oh.

Oh dear.

Is he?!...

You shudder a bit, having now grown acutely aware of something else being pressed up against you.

Where the fuck did this come from?! Throughout all of his time here, he’s never said or done anything that implied any level of carnal interest!

Yet here he is half grinding his obvious carnal interest against you whilst he traps your much smaller body against the wall with his own. He’s practically curled up around you in order to do what he’s doing, which just further makes it clear how persistent he’s being in dominating your personal space.

“E-Eclipse-?!” You stammer his name, though you quickly fall silent again as he drags his tongue along your cheek. Your thoughts escaped you the instant you felt the warmth of his tongue against your skin.

What did you even plan to say? You can’t remember.

Not with him so close. Not while he’s being so persistent with whatever he’s doing.

Your legs nearly buckle as his tongue finds your ear.

He drags you into his arms to keep you secure as he continues to tease your ear with his tongue. And once you’re in his arms, his hands don’t hesitate to begin their exploration. Nor do they explore you gently.

He nips the shell of your ear as his hands quite literally tear at your clothes so that they can access the unexplored flesh hidden beneath.

The noises that he coaxes out of you with his antics are absolutely shameful.

You still aren’t sure where all of this has come from, but for some reason, you don’t hate it. Even if you’re confused and nervous, you don’t hate what he’s doing.

Even as his claws nick your tender flesh and his teeth lightly pierce into your ear, you don’t hate what he’s doing.

“....” Eclipse suddenly murmurs your name into your ear as he nuzzles the side of your head.

You tremble in response.

His voice has gotten so raspy and intense. His arousal is beyond obvious just in his tone. And something about the way it sounds sends pleasant tingles rolling along your spine.

He wants you. His tone makes it obvious.

So does everything else he’s been doing for the past... God, how long has he been all over you like this? Time feels like it's standing still.

But he’s gotten you all riled up now and whatever happens next, you’re going to blame on him for acting like such a lust-stricken beast.

His actions prove infectious enough to make you abandon your inhibitions and pull him into a kiss.

With one swift motion you bring both of your hands to his face to hold him still while you turn your head, and you press your lips against his.

For a split second, Eclipse completely freezes.

The next thing you know, you’re being thrown onto the bed.

The very same bed that he spent his time resting in while you nursed him back to health. The stains from his blood still mark the unkempt bedding.

You stare up at him, completely bewildered, as he stares down at you in turn.

Intense.

His eyes are so intense, and hungry.

Everything about his body language screams danger; from his intense eyes to his almost predatory movements as he calmly steps closer to the bed.

You watch him peel off his own shirt before he crouches to climb onto the bed.

He crawls over top of you like a spider creeping in to devour a helpless fly.

You certainly feel helpless beneath him. And yet, somehow, you don’t feel as though you’re in any danger.

He could have done you serious harm at any point, if he wanted. And he still hasn’t. Which means, despite his visible hunger, he doesn’t actually mean to devour you like an animal.

But despite understanding that you’re probably not in any actual danger, you can’t help the fight or flight that kicks in once he comes to loom over you.

You’re confused. Scared. Aroused.

You don’t know what you’re trying to do or why you’re even trying to roll over and crawl out from under him. The adrenaline and all of these conflicting emotions are just making you react, and the only way that you can think to react is to try and escape. Even if you don’t actually intend to get away from him.

Eclipse responds in turn like an animal apprehending its prey.

His hands easily capture your small, laughably weak body. And once he has a good hold on you, he roughly pins you down atop the bed.

Your submissive mewling is muffled by the pillows as even your head is pressed down. Not enough to risk smothering you, but enough to establish that there’s no easy way to squirm out from under him.

You wrap your arms around the pillow instinctively, holding it tightly as if it will provide you some sense of stability as you wriggle about in his grasp.

Eclipse isn’t the only one acting like an animal right now.

In your squirming, you find yourself practically presenting yourself to him. He allows you to lift your hips and tuck your knees, and because that’s all that you can do, you do it.

You kneel under him like a bitch in heat and he practically mounts you like a dog. The only thing preventing him from actually claiming you is your clothes.

Yours and his, technically. He still has his pants on.

Not for long, though.

He tears apart the clothing that is keeping him from feeling you and your squirming body directly against his. You hear it and you feel it when he literally reduces your clothing to ribbons using his claws.

None too gently, at that.

Your skin stings, which makes it clear that he’s caught you with his talons again. But you don’t care.

You just whine pathetically into your pillow as you feel Eclipse pressing his fully exposed genitals against you.

You swear you feel two. They’re sliding between your thighs, threatening to invade you. But you can’t find the nerve to look back and see for yourself what he’s got going on between his legs.

“E-Eclipse!” You whine his name into the pillow as you feel him grinding against you.

Fuck, you’re so wet. If he felt like it, he could just slide right in and stretch you out without issue.

You gasp at the unexpected feeling of his mouth against the back of your neck.

He’s biting you. And for some reason, it burns.

It burns like…

You tentatively reach back to feel where his mouth is locked against your flesh. And in doing so, you burn the tips of your fingers on his scalding hot ichor.

“Eclipse?!” You whimper his name, admittedly bewildered, as the heat of his blood spreads throughout your body from the bite on the back of your neck.

You hear and feel him growl in response.

He keeps his teeth locked so long that the bite genuinely starts to become painful. Genuinely painful. His teeth pull free of you only when those first tears begin to roll down your cheeks; at which point he begins to lap at the sore wound in order to soothe it. But by then you’re meekly sniffling from the pain brought about by the intensity of the bite and the unpleasant sensation of his blood singing your wounded flesh.

The only real distraction that he can give you is the feel of his cock - er, cocks? - sliding into your waiting body.

You cannot help but cry out in response. The pain and the pleasure mix together, creating a sensation that genuinely overwhelms you as he claims you completely.

He moans like a beast as he invades your body.

You moan and you sob, clinging tightly to your pillow as you feel him stretch you to the brink of breaking.

Hot.

You feel hot. Especially around the back of your neck, and where his body invades yours.

Eclipse practically curls around you to hold you close as he animalistically ruts into you. He presses you so close to him that he can barely even rock his hips.

But whether he manages to slide an inch, or six inches, it still feels incredibly intense.

So much so that you can’t stop crying. Even though the pain is gone and your neck has stopped bothering you, you’re just so overwhelmed by it all that you cannot help but sob underneath him as he fucks you like a beast.

It feels good. But it feels too good.

So good that you have to grip the pillow until your knuckles turn white from the strain.

So good that you genuinely cannot tell how many times you’ve orgasmed before you feel an unexpected rush of heat as the Deity apparently reaches his climax.

His ejaculate is hot. Just like his blood, but not nearly as intense.

Your abdomen is left feeling incredibly warm after he spills his seed into you. Even from the outside, you can feel it when you press your hand against your abdomen in a desperate attempt to relieve the pressure.

You feel so hot and full.

There’s so little space between your bodies that his seed has nowhere to go but inside. So your abdomen bloats ever so slightly from the excess fluid that has been pumped deep inside of you.

He bites you again mid-ejaculation.

You whine meekly as his teeth pierce your shoulder.

The one that was previously completely unharmed.

God, you’re covered in marks. From his teeth. From his claws. From the sheer strength of his grip.

Bite marks. Claw marks. Bruises.

You genuinely look as though you’ve just been attacked by an animal, and yet all that you can really focus on is the sensation in your abdomen as you feel his seed permeate your uterus.

Good Lord, he fucked you like he meant to breed you. And given the heat spreading through your insides, he very well might have.

Somehow he’s still hard.

You can feel him throbbing inside of you, now that he’s holding still.

You whimper again as you feel him start to nuzzle the crook of your neck. The last of your tears roll down your cheeks as you begin to hiccup uncontrollably, all of the emotions now catching up with you now that the intensity of the moment has passed.

Eclipse shushes you gently. Apologetically, even.

“I’m sorry...” He murmurs, moving to gently nuzzle your cheek as he shifts ever so slightly, coaxing another whine out of you unintentionally.

“Shh. It's okay.” He hums, adjusting you in his arms so that he can roll you over until you face him.

You then wrap your arms around him and cling to him tightly; even as you feel him slip out of you, along with a sudden gush of his seed.

Your cheeks flare with the embarrassment of the sensation. But he draws no attention to it, because his focus is entirely on comforting you.

“I was too rough with you. I’m sorry.” He murmurs, continuing to apologize even as he rolls over so that you can lay on top of him.

For a few moments, he seems content to just hold you. Until suddenly his arms shift so that he can hoist you off of him.

Initially, you try to resist him. And at first, he allows it. But after a few seconds, he gets very persistent with his movements and you have no choice but to obey him.

“Let me see.” He requests, establishing that he wants to see what he’s done to you.

You whine, mostly in protest, and partly in embarrassment as he proceeds to sit you upright on top of him. Then you shudder as your recently demolished, still overly sensitive genitals come into contact with his bare abdomen.

His skin is so cold. It feels strangely pleasant against your nethers. Soothing, in a way. Like a rush of cool water on a burn.

You cannot help but awkwardly roll your hips.

Despite the stimulation that the friction brings, the soothing chill of his skin is worth it. Though you fail to properly take into consideration that Eclipse can see what you’re doing. And what you’re doing is basically humping his chiseled abdominal muscles like an untrained animal. Not that he seems to mind, given that his hands are on your hips, and he could stop you at any moment.

He does not want to stop you, though.

If you had bothered to stop and pay attention, you would be able to take in his expression. You would see the intense desire in his half-lidded eyes. You would see how he has to fight the urge to arch his back against you as you shamelessly grind against him. You would see the faint curl of his lips and the pleasured snarl that he gives you with each motion. A pleasured snarl that remains silent only because he somehow finds the strength of will to keep from moaning underneath you.

You become aware of his heavy stare only when he finally tightens his hold on your hips to force you to keep your body still. At which point you realize what exactly you’ve been doing, and you hide your face behind your hands in embarrassment.

“I am” Eclipse groans, his hands now shaking as he trails them down your hips to your thighs “I am trying to be gentle, with you!”. He practically scolds you as he coaxes your hips up off of his abdomen; which has now been heavily smeared with a mixture of your own arousal and his spent ejaculate.

“Have you any idea how hard it is to control myself, with you throwing yourself at me like this?!” He asks, though his tone is anything but accusatory.

He sounds excited, to say the least. And you know that it must be your fault, given the little show you just put on for him.

You struggle to fight back a needy moan as he guides your hips back so that he can bring you down to his pelvis.

You can see how strange his anatomy is now. He really does have two penises. But they are not shaped like anything a human has ever had. They are long, and striking in their color. Fiery orange. They stand out as a sharp contrast against his ebony skin.

No wonder they feel so hot. With a color like that, how could they possibly be made from anything but flame?

You watch, literally trembling with anticipation, as the two tendrils coil around each other like snakes.

Did you really take both of these, before? Skies above; they were huge! And when wrapped around each other like they were now, their combined base must have been as thick as your arm!

“Say that you want me!” Eclipse commands, holding you so that you hover over his writhing mass of arousal. You’re kept high enough that he cannot slip into you, but low enough that you can feel the two tips greedily reaching out to explore your sensitive flesh.

He even forces you to lean slightly so that he can specifically tease your clitoris with his bizarre phalluses, stimulating your further and coaxing dramatic sound from your trembling lips.

“I-I wh-?!” You try to question him, only to be distracted by the teasing stimulation.

Fuck. You want him! Of course you want him! You would have sobbed and begged him to stop if you had not wanted him to mount you earlier! So why does he care about consent now, when he’s already marked your womb with his divine seed?!

“I claimed you once already, while my mind was gone. Nngh - I-I want to hear it from your lips! Tell me. Gift yourself to me, and become mine completely, while I still have this moment of sanity!” He commands again, giving you more thorough details this time around.

He seems to be struggling to maintain his composure. You can see it in his face, as you gaze down at him.

Come to think of it, you saw it earlier as well. Back when this little confrontation first began, and it took place right up until you kissed him.

Eclipse is battling with a part of himself. A part that desperately wants to just take you and claim you as his. A part of him that is likely governed by the beastly instincts of the Vampiric curse; the part of him that contains the monster that he could become if his bloodlust goes unquenched.

The other part of him; the part that is currently in control, the part that houses his humanity; it wants to make sure that you’re alright with this.

He wants you to be his. Both sides; the God and the Vampire. But one side will take you without your consent, whereas the other desperately wants to give you the right to choose.

You tremble as you stare down at him.

You really are messed up, aren’t you? To be turned on by the idea of being claimed by a God; with or without the right to turn him down; is absolutely abhorrent.

But you don’t care how wrong it is to want this, or to want to be made his property.

He is kind.

Despite everything; he is kind. He has shown you more human compassion in his brief stay here than you have received from the actual humans that live here.

And you have shown him more compassion and understanding than any other human that he has had the chance to meet. That is likely why he has grown so fixated on you in the first place. You embody everything he has longed for since he was stripped of his humanity, and he is not willing to let the opportunity satiate his desires slip past his fingers.

You hold just as much power over him as he has over you. Maybe not in the literal sense, but still.

“I-I-” You whine, struggling to find your words as you desperately try to lower yourself down onto him.

“I-I” He relaxes his grip, allowing you to sink down onto him of your own free will “I want you!” you finally blurt out.

Eclipse responds in turn by pulling you down onto him completely. He mercilessly reclaims your body, coaxing a strangely relieved moan out of you as you feel him stretch you out again.

The heat is back. Intense and addictive.

The God uses his hold on your hips to guide you as you begin to ride him. His other hands move elsewhere to support your body as you move.

One hand tangles with yours while the other cups your face.

His thumb slips into your open mouth. You feel it hold down your tongue; which makes your moans appear so much louder than before.

“You are mine!” Eclipse practically snarls these words as he maintains unwavering eye contact with you.

“No one else may have you! No one else may do so much as touch you! Or I will show them how monstrous I can be!” He states, grunting between every word as you bounce relentlessly on top of him.

Droll dribbles down your cheek and tears of pleasure well in your eyes as you become overwhelmed by the sensations once more, but you cannot help but bounce your hips.

This is all your doing. You’re the one riding him. You’re the one moaning like a whore as you feel his heated lengths impale your womanhood time and time again.

You’re the one offering yourself to him as a willing sacrifice. One that is meant to be treasured, rather than slaughtered.

“After this, I must go... I have duties to attend to.” He groans, obviously fighting back his orgasm in a desperate pursuit of dragging out these last few moments by your side.

“But I-” He groans, arching his back and trembling as the pleasure nearly overwhelms him “I will return!” He promises.

You gasp as he pulls you down completely onto him, stretching you to the brink of breaking as he ejaculates once more. You’re made to take every drop of his seed while he holds you completely still to prevent anything from spilling.

You moan, practically broken mentally from the pleasure, as you watch your abdomen bloat from the internal pressure.

“When-” He pants “When the bite on your neck fades, I will return to mark you again.” He promises, sitting up so that he can claim your lips in a rough and dominating kiss.

You moan sweetly into his mouth as he tangles his tongues with yours, devouring your pleasure with his kiss.

By the time your brain registers the sensation of him slipping out of you, he’s already gone. Long, long gone.

Your mind completely blanked out at some point during the kiss. What would have been a couple hours of aftercare have become nothing but a foggy dream in the back of your mind. But you can remember the feel of his embrace as he ushered you off into sleep, promising to return for you before the bite on your neck could heal completely.

Your cheeks flush faintly as you reach up to brush your fingers against the mark on the back of your neck. Though it is sore, knowing that you have it makes your stomach feel all fluttery.

You do not know for certain if this is a mark of love. It is too early to say for certain what it truly means to be claimed by a God.

But you know that Eclipse treasures you like he treasures nothing else upon this Earth. And that alone is enough to give you those same lovestruck butterflies that anyone else might feel in those moments where they first catch feelings.

And honestly, just knowing that you’re cared for is enough. At least for now.

#Vampire!Eclipse #Eclipse x Reader #not osha approved #Possessive Eclipse #female reader

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snippychicke · 1 year

Text

For the Sake of a Smile(V.2) Chapter One

Title: For Sake of a Smile (Revised)

Overall Rating: Mature (18+)

Chapter Rating: E for Everyone

Trigger warnings: Nothing beyond the child abuse hinted in the series, though we do explore the consequences a bit more.

Main Pairing: Balam Shichiro/Reader

Summary: Hell on earth was your motto for your job. Granted, you were pretty sure earth really was hell, considering the shit you had seen in your life. And the fact your coworker was a child.

A child named Suzuki Iruma, in fact. A kid who’s life was decidedly worse than yours, but yet he smiled despite everything. It wasn’t long after meeting him that you decided you’d do a lot for his smile. Including summoning a literal demon and signing your soul away.

But as it turns out, hell (The Netherworld, actually) was a lot better than living on earth. Demons were more humane than a lot of humans you knew.

And Iruma’s smile wasn’t the only one that would change your life.

Masterlist | Ao3| Mairimashitai! Simps Discord

The candles lining the room flickered as a dark wind swept angrily around you. You could hear Iruma's ‘parents’ whimper in fear as they pressed themselves near the door. They had begged you not to summon the demon - obviously terrified of the supernatural beast - but you didn't care. If anything, it strengthened your resolve.

All you could think of was Iruma's smile. His innocent laugh, and how he beamed under the most basic niceties.

If this was true; If they sold that boy to a demon, and sent him to hell, you were going to snap. And honestly, you were afraid what kind of damage your rage could cause.

The demon crawled out of the floor stained with blood from your own hand that painted the seal. First large hands ending in large black nails, monstrous black wings, and long horns set against a bald head. Harsh, glowing eyes glared at you from behind glasses as the demon Sullivan stood to his full glory, nearly twice your height.

"Who dares to summon me?" He growled, and you couldn't help but tremble slightly in fear.

No. Think of Iruma.

"I did," You stated as you stood taller and met his glare. "I want to trade places with Suzuki Iruma in hell. But, I also want him to go to a better home. With people that will love and cherish him."

Sullivan seemed surprised by your words, pausing before he crouched down to look at you closer. "Suzuki Iruma cannot leave the Netherworld. Once a human soul enters into a contract, it cannot leave."

His words pierced your heart, and for a moment you wallowed in horror. He was stuck in hell? All alone? You could only imagine what was happening to him, recalling myths and legends of how demons loved to torture humans.

"Then… Then I want to be with him," You said, meeting his eyes once more. "I sell myself to you, so that I may be by Iruma's side, so he's not all alone in hell."

He tilted his head, stroking his small goatee thoughtfully. "Why would you do such a thing? The child is nothing to you."

"He is not nothing!" You argued, hearing those same words from his parents earlier. "He's an innocent child! There isn't a wicked bone in that boy's body! I may not be related to him, but I love him as if he was my little brother, or even my own son! He didn't deserve the shit his parents put him through, and he definitely doesn't deserve to be all alone in hell, thinking no one loves him!"

A smile spread across his face, and the fact a demon looked excited and pleased by your words didn't bode well for you. "Offer accepted."

Dark smoke suddenly clouded your vision, your body feeling strange as you batted it away and coughed. When it cleared you were sitting at a desk ; Sullivan at the other side, in an office that looked ancient but well kept - brightly lit by the tall windows behind the demon.

"Let's discuss your contract then," Sullivan clapped happily, a smile on his face. The difference gave you whiplash as he pulled out a piece of paper from his desk and grabbed a pen. "Lets see, in return for being here in the Netherworld with Iruma to guarantee his safety and happiness, I just ask you to become my legal daughter, and therefore, mother of my beloved grandson!"

You stared at him, sure you had misheard him. Daughter? Mother? Grandson? "What?"

"Iruma is my grandson!" He cheerfully declared and pulled out a photo album, and showed you dozens of hundred of pictures. Of Iruma. Iruma looking happy and awkward at the same time. In some the boy was completely startled - others smiling and even laughing as Sullivan held him like a proud father.

Proud grandfather. Little flags and banners pronounced Iruma as ‘number one grandson’ or ‘best grandson in the Netherworld’, and other various boasting phrases. You barely heard as Sullivan cooed over each picture, explaining the story behind them briefly, but you couldn't miss the obvious love in his voice as well as his joy.

"I thought… I thought he'd be miserable. That hell was, you know, hell. Brimstone and fire. Demons tearing flesh or torturing the souls of the damned."

"Not exactly," Sullivan explained, a smile on his face. Not a wicked or sinister smile - but an honest, cheery one that looked so sincere that you were confused. "While those legends hold some merit, our kind has changed as much as your kind has in the last couple hundred years."

That… made some sense, you supposed. As much sense as any of this did.

You felt relief as you leaned back in the hardwood chair. Iruma was…was okay. You looked more at the pictures, taking in each one. “What has he been doing, then?” You asked.

“My little Iruma is attending his first year at Babyls! One of the most prestigious schools in our land!” Sullivan cheered, flipping a few pages. “See! This is his first day of school! Doesn’t he look so cute in his uniform?!”

School. He was finally able to attend school like a child, though you had to wonder what kind of school demons attended. But Iruma looked happy, and then Sullivan flipped over a few pages to show you pictures of the boy along with his two friends-- ‘Az and Clara’ Sullivan briefly mentioned, though said little more about the two, though they appeared in many pictures.

“So, if I agree to be your daughter… what can I expect?” You asked slowly, forcing yourself away from the pictures. Should you still agree to this, now that you knew Iruma was safe? That he was happy and being taken care of?

“Well, that is the question,” Sullivan hummed, putting away the photo album. “But, I suppose as the daughter of the Lord of the House of Sullivan, you could do pretty much whatever you wanted, even if you don’t have a rank. Which, we would have to find a way to rectify that. Though, I could excuse your presence, and previous lack thereof, because of your weakness and wanting to protect you ....”

He continued to mumble, seemingly talking to himself. You allowed yourself a moment to look around the office, noting its decadence. Maybe it was just your mind playing tricks on you… but he made it sound like he was someone of importance.

How did the social hierarchy even work here?

“Grandpa!” A familiar voice broke through your thoughts, making both you and Sullivan jump in surprise. “I’m home!”

“Oh! My little Iruma-kins! He’s home!”

Sullivan dashed out of the room in the blink of an eye, and you didn’t even think before following. The halls were just as richly decorated as you ran after Sullivan, barely able to keep up with his long legs.

By the time you reached the large antechamber, Sullivan had scooped Iruma up into a bear hug, apologizing for not being there to greet him earlier, while the boy laughed.

He looked so much healthier than the last time you saw him. No longer gaunt and pale from long hours of work and little nutrition, but there was now some color to his complexion - and meat on his bones. His blue eyes sparkled with even more life, and you thought he had even grown an inch.

Iruma noticed you after Sullivan set him down, his smile dying slowly. Realization struck harshly-- he was happy here. He had a family, friends, and he was going to school. There was no reason for you to be here. He didn’t need you anymore.

He cried your name, and suddenly you were being tackled by the fourteen year old, the wind knocked from your lungs as he wrapped his arms around you and squeezed hard. Your former thoughts were chased away by his crying as he held onto you, burying his face in your chest. “I-I’ve missed you so much! I can’t believe your here! You’re actually here!”

You felt your own tears sting your eyes as you returned his hug, squeezing him tight. “I’m here kiddo. I missed you too. Gods, I’ve missed you so much! I was so worried when you never came back from the boat, and no one knew where you were…!” You sank to your knees, pulling away so you could study his face. “Are you okay? Are you happy here? Are they treating you okay?”

He nodded his head rapidly, wiping away his tears. “Yes! Grandpa and Opera have been nothing but kind to me! Oh! I’m going to school, even though it’s actually a school for demons, but it’s actually a lot of fun! And I even have friends too!”

Words failed you, though your mouth hurt from grinning widely. Instead, you pressed a kiss to his forehead before tugging him into another hug.

“Iruma, my boy,” Sullivan spoke after a moment, pulling you back into reality. “Your friend and I were discussing a contract, and I suppose since it concerns you, you should have a say in it too.”

Iruma frowned, looking between you and the demon, confusion evident on his face. “What kind of contract?”

“I…was really worried about you,” You started. “And when I found out what your parents did, I… may have summoned Sullivan and asked to be brought here to be with you, so you weren’t alone." You admitted guiltily. "I didn’t realize you were happy, and then Sullivan offered for me to stay… and to become his daughter, and I guess your adoptive mother?”

Iruma seemed stunned by your words, his blue eyes wide. “You did that? For me?”

“Of course," You laughed as you ruffled his blue hair. "I mean, you know how much of a mother-hen I am. I was really worried and scared when you disappeared. All I cared about was finding you. But…" You trailed off, looking at the demon Sullivan briefly, who was still beaming with happiness and pride, and the luxury of the mansion. "I guess it was unneeded. This is more than I could ever hope for you, so I completely understand if you don’t want me sticking around.”

“What? No!" Iruma protested immediately as he clung to you tighter. "I mean, if you don’t want to, I understand, but I-I would really love it if you did! I've missed you so much, and I wanted to share everything with you! There is so much food here! It’s kinda hard to get used to at first, because of how it looks, but it is so good! And the beds are so comfy! No more lumpy futons on the cold ground. And, oh, you’d love the baths! And books! I know how much you love to read!”

“So, you’d be okay if I stayed?” You asked carefully, knowing his inability to say no to others, yet there wasn’t a hint of reluctance on his face as he grinned.

“Absolutely!”

"Perfect! Opera!" Sullivan clapped and in the blink of an eye, another person appeared; ruby-red hair with matching cat ears, dressed in a suit. "Can you…"

Sullivan didn't even have to finish as Opera handed him the scroll from earlier, their golden eyes trained on you, as if piercing through and seeing your soul. You unconsciously pulled Iruma closer, unsure what to make of the new person. Demon? There was little to no expression on their face, though you noticed a tail flicking behind them.

"Alright, just sign here and here," Sulivan stated as he knelt on the floor beside you, handing you the quill. You took a moment to acknowledge that you were literally signing your life away, never to return to the world you knew. All the struggling you endured to scrape your way through life, gone.

But Iruma was smiling so widely, and that's all it took for you to know you were making the right choice. You signed your name despite being unable to read the odd language, trusting the boy beside you.

"Welcome to the family!" Sullivan cried as soon as you were finished. Opera took the scroll the same moment Sullivan grabbed both you and Iruma into a tight hug. "Oh! I am so happy! First a grandson! And now a daughter to spoil too! My friends will be so jealous!"

-+-

Spoil was right.

You gaped at the bedroom that Sullivan had given to you. Just across the hall from Iruma's, and apparently just a decadent. A large bed that looked thick and plush, the walls lined with bookcases, a literal walk-in closet that was the side of your bedroom back at your former home.

And a balcony with glass doors that revealed the night sky lit with foreign stars and multiple moons.

How could this be hell?

There was a knock at the door, and you turned in time to see Iruma poke his head. "How is everything?"

"I-I'm in shock," You answered honestly. Yes, dinner had been an odd experience with food that looked nothing like what you were used to, but Iruma pointed out his favorites (everything Opera cooked, apparently) and it was a nice change to have a full belly for once in living memory.

"I'd say you'll get used to it, but it still surprises me a lot too," He answered as he entered. "I… I'm really glad you're here. I just can't believe you'd go through all that trouble for me…"

Your heart softened at his awkward expression. You sat on the edge of the bed and patted the space next to you for him to join. "I wasn't kidding that first day when I said I was going to stick with you and watch over you like a hawk."

Iruma's smile returned as he recalled when he first met you. After you got over the initial shock of him being your new coworker, you had sworn to him that you were going to be his new shadow - and as long as you were around he was safe.

After taking care of himself for so long, Iruma had a hard time believing that a complete stranger would say, let alone mean, those words to him. But you kept your word time and time again. Stepping up to protect him whenever someone tried to take advantage of him.

He was brought from his thoughts as you combed your fingers through his hair tenderly, that soft smile on your face. "You're really okay with being my mom?" He asked after a moment.

His own parents had sold him after everything he had done. You had always been the mother figure that he had dreamt of in private. Yet the fact you would still do so much for him was hard to accept. The fact you wanted to be his mom seemed like a dream come true.

"Absolutely," You answered without hesitation. "As long as you're okay with it, I would love nothing more."

Iruma couldn't hold back his tears, nor the urge to hug you tightly. You quickly returned the embrace, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

His life couldn't get any better.

-+-

Weeks passed, and you felt like a princess; one would think - after the trials of your life; that you would enjoy it. After all, Sullivan had a huge private library that - after a quick spell from the demon - you could read freely.

There were stables next to the mansion, with four horse-like creatures known as Nightmares. Overall they were fairly tame, eating meat right from your hand in a (mostly) gentle manner.

Then there were the gardens, carefully tended by little imp-like creatures. The flora was nothing like back on earth, but had their own sense of beauty.

In the evenings, Opera made a multi-course meal, and you were able to listen to Iruma as he recounted his day, talk with him and Sullivan about what you read and discovered about the Netherworld.

You should have loved it. But after the first week, you were restless. You were so used to having to work - to having a purpose - it drove you nuts.

"Please Opera?"

Opera's eyes narrowed faintly as their tail twitched with annoyance. They crossed their arms as they blocked the enterance to the kitchen. "As I've said before, my lady. You may help with cleaning, gardening, and whatever else. But the kitchen is off limits."

"But you've already done everything else," You whined rather petulantly. "Can I clean the dishes?"

"No, and that's final." Opera stated firmly. And to be fair, they had a good reason. As it turned out, magic was involved with cooking in the Netherworld. And the fact you had no magic meant disastrous results. "Why not go read? Or visit Lord Sillivan's nightmares in the stables? They would enjoy your company."

You knew when you were being dismissed, and sighed. "Alright. Maybe I can get my head around your damned magic system. God- er, Devi," You corrected when their eyes narrowed at you, their ears twitching in disapproval. Using 'holy' curse words was highly frowned upon, which was always catching you at the oddest moments. "Who knew magic would be so complicated."

"That sounds like a lovely idea," Opera acknowledged before turning and retreating to the kitchen. You sighed again before dragging yourself towards the library.

You needed some easier books. Ones that went through the basics, instead of assuming you already knew them. You could ask Sullivan, you supposed - but at this point you felt too much like a burden already.

Hours passed as you sulked in a comfy chair, glaring at a book instead of reading it. You weren't meant to be pampered and have a life of luxury. You liked having a purpose, something to occupy your day.

The door opened, and you looked up from your book to see Sullivan poking his head inside with a pout. "Why is my darling princess so sullen?" He whined, "What can I do for my darling daughter?"

"I need a job!" You blurted. "I don't care what it is! Make me break rocks! Or push boulders up a hill! Or reshelve an entire library! Give me something to do!"

"Hmm," Sullivan hummed as he thought. "You actually have reshelved my library a few times already…"

You blushed at the faint tease, though to be fair he admitted there hadn't been much rationale behind how he had them on the shelves.

"It actually gives me an idea," He continued, clapping his hands. "Babyls' hasn't had a full time librarian in quite a while. A few teachers and Battlers have been trying to manage, but, well - they haven't quite succeeded. What would you think of joining the faculty as the full-time librarian?"

That… was a lot more than you expected. "Really?"

"Of course!" He laughed at your shock. "I don't want you to be miserable cooped up here, and I could also show you off to the rest of the staff!!"

You groaned, warmth spreading through your face as you hid behind your book. It was hard getting used to his cheerful enthusiasm. While Iruma had tried to reassure you to just go with it, it was just… awkward. Embarrassing.

Maybe it was because you were a grown adult, or that you had gone all your life without the affection of a parent. You weren't a child. You have grown and adapted to life, and now…

Honestly, the love and affection was harder to adjust to than being in the Netherworld.

Case in point, Sullivan was suddenly wrapping his arms around you, holding you tight. "Please say yes! I would love to have both my daughter and grandson with me at work!"

"Yeah, of course," You answered as he squeezed. "Anything would beat just bumming out around here."

-+-

When Sullivan said the library was in disarray, you suspected maybe messy - disorganized; Much like his own library when you had arrived.

But this was so, so much worse. The Babyls library was huge, taking up two stories. There were books piled haphazardly next to bookcases, many stuffed with papers that didn't belong. The lighting was poor, the windows covered with thick drapes, and many of the sitting areas were well used to the point of being worn and frayed, many of the tables having deep scratches from students.

You had your work cut out for you.

You couldn't be happier.

--+-- Su-Ki-Ma --+--

The student body was extremely curious once you started. You tried to ignore the whispers that followed you as you set to work. After all, you weren't trained as a Librarian in the least bit. Sullivan had barely gone over your duties that morning before being dragged away to do his own work by Opera.

Take care of the books. Keep them organized and in good shape.

Assist students with finding what they need

Ensure a peaceful environment for students to study.

Oversee the Library battler alongside Furcus (a battler was apparently a club, from what you could gather)

That was it. How to achieve the above was your problem to solve, apparently.

And at first, you expected to be challenged by the students - knowing how teenagers could be (and assuming demons would challenge authority even moreso). But oddly, they preferred to gossip.

Apparently, Iruma already had left quite an impression, and despite his dafty nature, Sullivan garnered enough respect that it extended to you - despite being 'rankless'.

-+-

The first of Iruma's friends you met was Azazel Ameri of the student council.

"Oh! Iruma told me about you," You said when Ameri introduced herself

A blush crossed her face, breaking the stoic expression. "Oh?"

"Something about reading a book series together?" You offered. You didn't mean to be vague on purpose, but Iruma himself had skirted around any details when he was recounting his story.

You finally understood why as Ameri's blush grew along with the smile on her face, making you feel rather giddy. Even if she was a demon, it was obvious she had at least a small crush on Iruma

Meaning your boy did have a chance for a normal teenager life afterall.

Ameri coughed to clear her throat. "Anyways, on behalf of the students I wanted to welcome you to Babyls." She bowed slightly. "It is an honor to have the daughter of Lord Sullivan to preside over our library."

It was your turn to blush, as well as laugh nervously. "Heh. Um, thank you. Very much."

-+-

Asmodiues Alice - or 'Az' - and Valac Clara were the ones you had been most eager to meet, considering how close Iruma was to them.

And the stories you thought Iruma had been exaggerating proved to be true.

"Iru-mama!" You heard someone shout out of nowhere before being tackled to the ground. By the time the room stopped spinning, you were on your back with a green-haired girl in your arms, giving you one of the widest smiles you had seen. "Hi, Iru-mama!"

"Stupid Clara!" Someone swore. Judging by the pink hair and fancy suit, you assumed he was 'Az’. "Don't attack her ladyship like that, and definitely don't call her 'Iru-mama!'"

"But Az-Az, she is Iruma-kins mom!" Clara protested, still not letting you go. Instead, she squeezed tighter as she buried her face against you like a child. "So she's Iru-mama!"

"She is Master Iruma's mother and the daughter of Lord Sullivan!" Az huffed. "You need to show more respect!"

"It's okay," You interrupted before Clara could speak. You placed a hand on Clara's back and offered a smile. "I don't mind being called Iru-mama." If anything it sent butterflies into your stomach, just like everytime Iruma called you mom.

For all intents and purposes, you were now the boy's mother. And you couldn't be happier about the fact.

Clara grinned wider and giggled happily, while Az stood a little straighter. "I apologize, my lady. I tried to stop her but obviously I failed."

"It's fine," You reassured. "You must be Asmodeus and Clara, correct? Iruma's told me a lot about you. I'm glad he has friends like you two."

Both beamed in their own way, seemingly proud of the fact. "Thank you, that means a lot to me," Az answered while Clara only hugged you tighter.

#mairimashita! iruma kun #welcome to demon school iruma kun #balam shichiro #balam/reader #suzuki iruma #lord sullivan

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cooking-with-hailstones · 6 months

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Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks for the tags y'all! @mistresslrigtar @zeldadiarist @ladyhoneydee y'all go read their stuff it's so good

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Just 8, but it's about to increase! ;)

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

58,767!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Legend of Zelda - All BOTW so far. I have some ideas for other Zelda games but they remain as ideas for now.

I also have a short Marvel story from my Steve/Bucky days circa 2013.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Shadows - An Epistolary Poem from Steve Rogers to Bucky Barnes

Is that a yes? (Zelink oneshot, NSFW)

That child of mine (my beloved longfic - I promise I'm coming back to this story soon! I miss it so much)

Silk and moonlight (with art from the magnificent @bahbahhh)

A chance encounter at the blood clinic (modern Zelink au that is very silly but you gotta be ok with blood donation)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Absolutely! I am a sucker for attention and I love talking about stories with people.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh DEFINITELY That child of mine. It's not even finished yet but there is some goooood angst coming, and I already know how it's going to end (I've actually written a good chunk of the finale already) and it's gonna be heartbreaking.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably A chance enounter? They get each other's number and the promise of a cute date.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Nope! I've only gotten some (requested) constructive criticism. I do have a fic planned that I anticipate being kinda contentious? But I'm already planning on limiting comments on that one lol.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yee! I've never written anything hardcore but I do really like writing and reading sexy scenes. I'm not much of a PWP kind of person (give me all of the emotional context) but I'm a big believer that sex and intimacy are fundamentally human experiences and can serve a story in so many beautiful and interesting ways.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I continue to chip away at my Deep Space 9/TotK crossover idea. It's gonna happen one day... maybe...

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope, but maybe I'll try re-writing one of my stories in French sometime as a project.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No but I would LOVE to. The closest is when B and I collaborated and I wrote a story and she did the art.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Zelink, definitely. People whose souls are inextricably bound to one another and keep finding each other, lifetime after lifetime? That's the good shit right there. Obsessed.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

The story that walked into my head that made me start writing. It's a crazy ambitious story - Basic premise is that instead of the Sheikah technology being banned by the ancient king, the Sheikah themselves were banished from the lands of Hyrule. In the interim, Hyrule has been through many wars, dynasties and factions have all risen and fallen, and the bloodline of the Goddess has been forgotten. No one remembers any of the old stories. Zelda is a farm girl training to become a healer like her mother, Link is the son of the king who won the throne after lead a successful campaign against the Zora, and into all of this comes a young Impa, drawn back to Hyrule after thousands of years away, tormented by visions of calamity, a prophecy her people have passed down for millenia, knowing that Hylia would recall them to the land of their ancestors when the time was right. It's anti-monarchy, it's about climate change, it's about falling in love and renouncing power in order to fulfill a greater purpose, it's about knowing yourself, it's about righting ancestral wrongs, and I do not think it will ever be finished but I do like to come back to it every once in a while.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Coming up with interesting concepts!

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Executing interesting concepts?

But in all seriousness, I know I still have a lot to learn as a writer. I'm overly descriptive, I have long run-on sentences, dialogue tags are my nemesis, and I struggle to write with real depth of character.

I do think I'm a good storyteller. I am just still honing those skills.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I think it's great! I am obsessed with conlangs - I think they're so fucking cool. For writing in existing languages, as long as you're familiar with the language, or getting someone to look it over and not just running things through google translate, I think that's wonderful.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Captain America.

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

That child of mine my beloved

This was really fun, thanks y'all!

Tagging @louwhose @newtsnaturethings @wanderingnightingale and @bahbahhh ! I'm sure y'all have already been tagged but add me to the pile of fans who want to hear more about your work :D

#pals!#emily talks #fandom #tag game #my writing #breath of the wild #fanfiction #legend of zelda

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asha-mage · 2 years

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WoT Musing: Change

I think one of the fundamental differences between WoT and LOTR, and the reason that WoT has always clicked more with me, is how they address change.

I've talked before about how Jordan's feelings on change permeate all of WoT to one extent or another: the world is changing constantly and unrelentingly, every day. In some ways to slow to notice, in others so cataclysmic we can barely comprehend it. That's what it means to be alive, in Jordan's world. To live, is to change. You learn to live with it, and you try to live through it, trusting that some of what comes will be terrible, some will be wondrous in it's own right, but that life will carry on and you'll make of it what you can.

Tolkien meanwhile, despised change. He also saw it as inevitable, but as something to be regretted, mourned, fought against wherever possible. The world is inherently diminished by the passage of time, everything good fading away before the looming spectator of a bleak future, that at best will be able to faintly recall lost past glories. The beautiful and the wondrous are dying in Middle Earth, and nothing truly beautiful will ever be again. The elves are leaving, the Valar are scattered, the Great Kingdoms are fading. All that will remain soon is the lesser Age of Man, that will never compare the lost grace of old.

Jordan's monsters are stagnate and static: from the Age of Legends to the dawn of the 4th Age the Trollocs remain the same, monstrous violent beasts ruled by only their desire destroy, and their fear of punishment. The Fades are specters of cunning and evil, always carrying out the will of their master. His villains, in the Forsaken, are prisoners of their own nostalgia, mage scholars of a lost age that are so convinced of their own superiority that they fails to realize that the 'savages' of this new Age are dangerous to them. Even the Dark One in the end is nothing more then stagnation incarnate: permanence is the only thing that links his twisted visions of the world together: eternal evil and suffering in a Blighted World, eternal mockery of their existing life without conscious good or Light, and finally, eternal nothingness, void, and absence of existence.

Tolkien's monsters, by contrast, are the embodiment of a new age. They are industrial, greedy, and cruel: seeking to twist and malform what is good and pure in the world to make it in their own image. They cut down the ancient forests to fuel the new machines, despoiling the land in their pursuit of power, they build new twisted implements of war to bring to bare against the virtuous swords and shields of human kind. Saruman and Sauron both are creatures of inherent dissatisfaction, Saruman rejects the simplicity of pure white for a cloak of many colors in his greed, and Sauron's refusal to submit to the 'proper order' and instead add his own flawed music to the Song is what begot both his banishment and evil in Arda.

Tolkien's asks you accept that the world will never again be as pure and good as it once was, and sing it's lament. Jordan asks you to understand that the world was never pure and good, that is was always terrifying and strange and dangerous, as it was meant to be, as it always will be.

#WoT #Wheel of Time #LOTR #Lord of the Rings #WoT Musing #WoT Book spoilers

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mythicaldrawer · 8 months

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Okay! I've been hearing a lot of people agreeing with the theory of the AH (Ancient Hero) being Rauru and Sonia's son/descendant. As much as how much it is a popular theory, I personally don't believe this theory. And since I haven't seen anyone else come up with a different theory of who the AH could be or disprove the current theory, so I might as well give it a try. What I'll basically be doing is giving some of my own evidence of why I believe the AH isn't a son/descendant of Rauru and Sonia while also giving you my own speculation on who/what the AH may be.

We'll start with one of the more well-known evidence, the appearance of the AH. Looking between the AH and the Zonai we know of (Rauru and Mineru), we can see the AH is more canine-like while the two Zonai have more of an appearance of what I thought was a goat or sheep at first, but when I was doing some research for this discovered that the Zonai have more of an appearance of llamas and alpacas (Would make sense for the sharp teeth the Zonai have since llamas also have sharp teeth to use for fights.) and I'm pretty sure that llamas and dogs are two different animals. Alongside that, the AH has a greener skin color compared to Rauru if you look at their models side by side. And before you say "There might be other Zonai that look like the AH!". I hardly doubt that. Sure, there MIGHT be some that look like the AH, but since we only have Mineru and Rauru to go off by until we get to see more Zonai's, I'm saying that the AH isn't a Zonai.

The next piece of evidence is actually one that we see in both TOTK and BOTW, but mostly in BOTW. What I'm talking about is the tapestry of The Calamity from 10,000 years ago, where we first see the depiction of the AH. This is the part where it feels more solid in my opinion. The reason why is because one thing that people seem to forget about the tapestry is the princess from it. So, let's say this princess is also the daughter/descendant of Rauru and Sonia, if that is the case, that would make her a relative, or even sister, to the AH. If that were the case, wouldn't they look more similar to each other? If you look back at the tapestry, it is clearly shown that she is very much human (Most likely Hylian), with a light skin color and sprouting the same golden hair that Zelda has. If the two were related somehow, wouldn't one of them be the same race as the other? (Like the princess being the race that the AH is or the AH being a Hylian like the princess.).

Sure, you can say that "The princess could have come from another kingdom to be wed to the AH" or "The AH and Princess not looking alike doesn't mean they are not related" Which could be true. But this final piece of evidence is something that I have no doubt behind, and that's the titles that the AH and Princess hold. Recall the cutscene of Impa retelling the legend of the 10,000-year-old Calamity. "...by a warrior wielding the soul of a hero, and a princess who carries the blood of the Goddess..." Notice anything? The Titles. The AH doesn't have a title of royalty. If the AH was really the son/descendant of Rauru and Sonia, it would make him either a prince or the KING or Hyrule!? And yet, there is NO title of the AH being one. either being referred to as "warrior" or "hero". Nothing about him being a "prince" or "king". And for those who are saying "Well! Impa is the one retelling the story, and her recount of the legend might not be true." Which something I would agree with you on if it wasn't for King Rhoam saying the same thing during his cutscene at the Great Plataue where he said, and I quote. "...We also learned of a princess with a sacred power and her appointed knight, chosen by the sword that seals the darkness..." He referred to the AH as a knight, nothing about him being royalty. If the AH was in fact one of royalty, then the Ancient Shiekah would have given him the title appropriate for his status, but they didn't because he was only a knight.

God! That took a while to explain! Anyway, that's the end debunking part of this post, now on to my own speculation of who/what the AH may be. I'll keep this short because this post is already getting long.

So I think the AH is in fact of the Links that we have not seen the story of (Like Hylia's chosen hero) and was part of the Barbarian tribe that was in the Faron region long ago. One, being the Barbarian Armor set having red hair on it, like the AH. And two, the Spring of Courage is found in the Faron region, with Link being associated with the Triforce of Courage. Granted, this is all speculation, but it would be REALLY COOL if this was true because it also gives us some info about the Barbarian tribe that once lived in Hyrule before vanishing.

Right! Thats the end of my whole shpeal. If you have gotten to the end of this long post, thank you for taking the time to read this and I hope you have a wonderful day/evening/night!

#tears of the kingdom #legend of zelda #loz tears of the kingdom #tears of the kingdom spoilers #totk theory #loz totk #the legend of zelda #legend of zelda theory #fan theory #theory #speculation #totk spoilers

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katyspersonal · 1 month

Note

3 for Aldrich, Aldia, Willem & Laurence

9 for Maria

11 for Micolash & Aldrich

24 for Laurence

(Asks from this ( x ) meme)

3) What first drew you to this character?

As for Aldrich, I vaguely recall finding out that he checks the traits I like the most? He was one of the characters I've learned about through fandom and not on my own, and I think this ancient meme about summarises it:

Also:

@val-of-the-north SHUDDUP you're basically so horny for Laurence/Logarius/Snatchers that you can't even picture them in your mind in any way but being naked!!!!!!! *casts the stone back at u*

With Laurence, like with Mico, it was the very first glance at the character in Youtube compilation with boss themes and concept art image. I did not know the lore yet, but the design and the music made me imagine Laurence as sort of aged, sagely librarian. I could not imagine back then that his boss fight would be him being a "helpless abhorrent little mewmew" as kids call it! Heck, I thought he'd have dialogue despite the monster form x) In a way, my first impression was not wrong, with the cut content of him actually talking even in a beast form, and implication of him being a son of Cainhurst cut content librarian NPC! I have intuition for cut content before having information, hahaha!

I have nothing to say about Willem. It might be a memory gap thing, but I swear at some point I feel I was turned off and then booted back up with liking this character already installed in my system x) As for Aldia.... ugh for fuck's sake... yeah, it was this legend:

youtube

I was absolutely floored by this stupid vid even without knowing any context, but I also instantly liked this character. I didn't even know his name yet, but the voice acting and long yapping about philosophy already pulled me in XD (Also unironically, this video is precisely how I give relationship advice fhfhdds)

9) Does this character remind you of anyone you know? Does that affect how you see them?

Yeah, I know this person. I know them very well. I know them more than anyone else. Someone who was misguided (by their destructive influence mentor figure, by their own foolishness and past history, or combination of both, who can tell anymore?) into committing awful things, then despaired over their sins and attempted redemption but also failed in some way? This person is me. At some point I've found myself in front of horrible truth about my past life and personality, and knew I was guilty and sullied forever. That it was over for me as a human being, but that didn't matter, and I could only keep people safe by locking myself away and trying to serve something better.

......annnnd it took a few years of more informed people to (metaphorically) shake me and slap my face into lucidity, explaining to me that I've fallen for the "BPD demonization" that was going far beyond than my individual failure as a friend, and we are always accused of abuse and causing irreversible harm when the worst we do is being emotionally overbearing. I kept losing trust to those friends, telling them that they were enablers who tried to gaslight me into thinking I was not 'that much of a monster', until it was other people with BPD who 'shook me and slapped my face into lucidity'. xd Nonetheless, even though now I know the truth about how society treats BPDs, I remember the feeling of being so monstrous and harmful that I was not even allowed to "touch" people with my dirty hands, how my reality used to be. So, I could write Maria going through this effortlessly, especially considering what she did was more plain and tangible!

In fact... thank you for asking me about this, because I kept wondering why I had such frequent dreams about being Maria, and why the Maria in my dreams acts like abused child that took back control against Gehrman despite my portrayal of the guy being so different. And now the puzzle is solved! That part of me still lives inside, it seems.

11) How did you “fall in love” with this character?

Already answered this for Micolash here: ( x )! As for Aldrich, it was through properly analysing the bigger picture and context of his actions. I've figured that his madness was, in fact, being informed on what was far too ahead of everyone else around him! He, like the rest of the cast, is trapped in the rotting, doomed world in which the only choices are 1) "die with dignity" or 2) commit something unthinkable from moral standpoint for a chance to escape. And will morality of the rotting world will matter in the new world anyways? Won't it all be left behind and be forgiven?

The guy also tried to take everyone else he could with him, like sort of a fucked up Noah's Arc! I can tell that they reused the concept with Rykard, at least, I am glad they know what works xD I'd say that the sadism he experienced upon eating people was either result of insanity (he understood a thing no one should understand), or still didn't exclude the bigger purpose (egotistically revelling in how holy he is helping everyone and doing what no one else dared, which would be like my Laurence). In any case, I have the strongest respect to the courage it takes to transcend the bonds of morality and compassion in order to to greater good. Being burdened with the knowledge of how the world really works, and choosing to push through instead of still being bound... This is why I also like Fauxsefka; learning how this world works, she chose to turn people into Kin so they can't ever become beasts. I am weak for this trope, you don't understand.

24) Do you ever dream about this character? If so, describe a dream you once had about them.

Laurence appears in my dreams only in two contexts: 1) Micolaurence or 2) dreams about finding secret files in Bloodborne that reveal his canonical appearance before beasthood! I can tell the latter comes from my everlasting unsatisfaction with my design for him, because I love it but it doesn't feel "fitting" and I can't identify why!

The former, I think, fandom rubbing onto me x) In two of these dreams, I was Laurence. In other two, I was Micolash. In one of Laurence dreams it was mutual, in the second one I was in love unrequited. In one of Micolash dreams, it was mutual, and in another it was not.. Basically, my dreams allows me to experience this ship from every possible angle. o_o Waiting for more I guess fhhdfsfd

______________

Thank you for asking! And.. without exaggeration, you've just done quite a psychological work on me by just asking the right thing. I need to think about that, hahaha

#bloodborne #dark souls 3 #aldrich devourer of gods #laurence the first vicar #soulsborne #ask replies #personal #memories #dreams #honestly I remember Maria in my dreams hiding in the closet like an abused bullied child.. that big strong woman reduced to this #and I finally know why it was this way #I'd rather not sully Gehrman with something as dirty as my stepdad of course he deserves so much more and he is his own man #I just don't like the approach of turning characters with their own stories and personality into vessels for my trauma #it feels like frenzied flame: you got infected by it and you have unending need to spread it. to scorch the world in your pain.#I don't think this approach would help my healing but instead make me feel worse by nourishing the trauma #I am keeping it sealed away from the world forever now </3 #see this is why it hurts me so much when gehrman haters accuse me of being insensitive to people that want to project their negative-#-experiences with men and misogyny onto him even if that means twisting the actual story and character. I do have a reason to do it myself #I just choose not to because I personally dislike the idea of making fandomry about myself more and about source material less #I don't want to bring the pain and horrors inside me into something that doesn't have them. some things can stay clean!#the passive aggression between canon worshippers and fanon enforcers is something that cannot be avoided in the fandoms #and I disapprove of the lie about 100% peace and mutual respect between the 'camps'. we will never FULLY like each other #each thinks their approach is more productive for the community. and that's fine!

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pokemon-teacology · 8 months

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Is there Pokehistory classes? Asking for future reference, I’m on a personal journey to try and prove the Ruinous Pokémon exist, and I feel this may help. Or if you know any possible info, that’d be appreciated too! (@Poketablet-venturer)

There are! Paldea's Naranja-Uva Academy (Ive picked up that the younger students will pick a fruit based on their assigned section and stick with it, but us older uni level students hav been calling it Naruva for a while now) has history lessons at all levels!

Though it depends on your level, really. If you're enrolled in the school at a younger age (11-17) for standard school time, you'll be going over more general history, while only briefly touching on Pokémon specifically. However, once you reach 18 and you start degree level work, you can definitely specify!

I've got a buddy doing a degree in Pokémon History at the moment! I've asked them and done a bit of research, and last year their modules were as follows:

• An Introduction to History

• Hands-on History: Sources and their Historians

(both classes are shared between general history and Pokémon history students)

• Pokémon Myths and Legends (a class focused on legendary Pokémon and mythicals)

• Pokémon Legends and Myths (a hilariously similar name, this module is about stories based around Pokémon and how they affect and shape cultures, for example the Darkest Day in Galar and how the energies created by this ancient powerful creature made Pokémon massive and the rightful king of Galar vanquished the creature and harnessed its power into energy so that Pokémon could continue being massive, just only in certain places and only for a little bit, as a treat.)

• The Basics of Archaeology: Preserving the Past

• An introduction to Pokémon biology

Side note: we also had a class with this name in the Pokéology degree scheme, but it has a different module code (BR-16320 for us and HY-86520 for the history guys) and teachers. While ours went in-depth about how Pokémon biological systems work, such as breathing, diets, evolution methods, and slow-evolution, it's my understanding that the module in the history department goes over the basics in terms of historical findings.

This includes but is not limited to: how different types of Pokémon are preserved, the basics of evolution and how it was seen by ancient cultures, and slow-evolution, since having a basic idea of how to recognise and research past ancestors of the Pokémon we have today is important to knowing what sorts of Pokémon were important to past cultures.

I've got to say, I'm fascinated by your theory of the ruinous Pokémon being real! I've not really thought about it myself, but I'm curious as to what you plan on doing if you find them! The stories are about how human selfishness and cruelty brought them to life, and how they're suffering because it's all that they know, and they think the humanity is cruel and unkind always, so I'd hope that your mission after finding them is to teach them that that isn't the case :)

From what I've heard, they're sealed away using some ancient chain? There's a couple sets of ruins out of the way in paldea that nobody can get into, not with the usual methods or by Pokémon means. I've heard not even teleporting Pokémon can get inside. The story states that the king who sealed them away hid the keys to the seals all throughout the region. Since there were four Pokémon, there are four chambers, and four sets of seals, I dunno how many seals there are, but it's a start to go off of! The history teacher here who's name I can never remember is very scary, but she loves this shit from what I can recall. If you come here, definitely speak to her about it.

All in all, I really recommend this place! Naruva is genuinely such a fun environment when you're doing your degree here, the staff in the school are lovely, and Mesagoza is a really nice city to live in for that first year. I'm in a little house just in the outskirts this year, so I get the best of both worlds in terms of walking distance and peace and quiet.

But anyway!! I hope this gave you a bit of insight into what you might be studying here if you choose to take your degree in Pokémon history!

#pkmn irl #unreality #pokemon irl #pokemon #rotomblr #rotumblr #pkmn #pokeblogging #naruva academy free promotion #tea used: answer!#i feel so awful for the ruinous pokemon if they are real :(#jmagine thinking that the world sucjs for so long because a couple bad people ruined it for you #and then they got locked away???? after doing what theyd been taught was right by the guy who essentially made them?#its awful truly #i hope if/when you find them you treat them kindly #@Poketablet-venturer

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themandylion · 2 years

Text

There Are Many Advantages

I could hold onto this for a month and use it for JayTim Week. But MerMay is almost over and this is, fundamentally, a product of Tumblr.

Read it on AO3.

—

The thing that got Jason wasn't the uncanny valley near-humanity of the top half, or the row upon row of terrifyingly sharp teeth, or even the solid grasp of the English language. No, all of that kind of took a back seat to the creature's skin.

"It's so smooth," he marveled, running his hand along the surface first one way, then the other. Logically, it shouldn't surprise him so. The creature—mer—T'm wasn't exactly what one might call 'typical marine life.' It made sense that his body parts didn't follow established 'rules.' But it still threw him a bit.

"Only a little smoother than yours," T'm said, dragging webbed fingers along Jason's bare arm, his slightly clammy touch summoning goosebumps. "Well, than yours was," he amended. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you bumpy. Is this an allergic reaction?"

"Uh, no. It's just. I." Jason swallowed, trying to organize his thoughts before he blurted out something ridiculous like 'I'm sensitive to being touched by gorgeous men.' T'm wasn't a man, after all—hell, his species might not even have sexes, let alone sexual dimorphism. "See the little hairs growing on my skin? They gather information and send messages to my brain about the world around me. Sometimes the skin around them reacts as well, to help me notice faster. The bumps are an involuntary response to unexpected stimuli, like touch or a change in temperature."

Transparent membranes nictated across one of the mer's eyes, then the other. "Fascinating. Now, explain to me why my skin being smooth is so interesting."

"Well, several of your physiological characteristics are similar to those of sharks—lack of swim bladder, multiple rows of teeth that replace each other over time, cartilaginous skeleton, the fin shape and placement, in particular the heterocercal caudal fin… But sharks have placoid—tooth-like—scales that feel smooth when stroked in one direction, but rough and 'biting' when stroked in the opposite direction," Jason explains, technical terms slipping in even as he tries to keep his explanation simple.

T'm nodded thoughtfully, though that might have been the movement of the water most of his body was still immersed in, only his upper torso propped on the edge of the raft. "My species does share many characteristics with them, I suppose. But recall that we originate from another star system and are thus apart from the evolutionary chains found among Terran species."

"Right! Right. Sorry, still wrapping my head around the idea that an entire society of people live under the waves. Might take me a bit longer to really grasp the alien aspect—we have myths and legends of mers, but none of them include extraterrestrial origins." Well, outside the fringe theories cryptozoologists occasionally floated and only supermarket tabloids were interested in publishing.

"To be fair, we've been on this planet for long enough that we actually lost that part of our history and only recently rediscovered it," T'm consoled him. "I just know a bit more than most because my parents were particularly keen on archeology. As it is, our cultures are more similar to nearby human ones than to anything our ancient spacefaring ancestors might have practiced."

Anthropology was far from Jason's area of study, but he supposed that could be interesting to those who were interested in such things. "Well, that certainly explains your mastery of English."

"Eh, I mostly learned it to follow television shows," T'm admitted, flapping a hand dismissively. "But it's a useful skill and allows me to keep up with scientific advancements, though it was pretty hard to read journals in a marine environment. Electronic publications have been a boon."

"Is terrestrial biology a popular area of study down below?"

"Not really. Land makes up less than forty percent of the planet's surface and even smaller percentage of the living space. I'm considered a bit of an eccentric, but that's something of a family tradition at this point." Gripping the edge of the raft, T'm pulled himself farther onto the deck.

"Uh. You okay there?" Jason gulped, his fight-or-flight response warring with other parts of him that were still all too aware of how attractive he found T'm's more humanoid features.

T'm's pale cheeks were quickly turning a bright blue that perfectly complimented his eyes. A part of Jason wondered if they would radiate heat if he held his hand up to them. He had yet to determine if T’m's species was homeothermic or poikilothermic. "Like I said, I've mostly learned about humanity from television, so I may be reading the situation wrong, but. I, ah. I find our conversations exciting and you and your ideas very interesting and attractive and I swear this isn't because I think you're exotic or that you represent an opportunity for me advance the entire field of terrestrial biology or—"

"Me too," Jason blurted out, his own cheeks very definitely betraying his own homeothermic nature. "I mean, I think you're very interesting and attractive also. As a fellow sentient lifeform. Person. You know."

T'm smiled at him and shifted his weight to one hand so he could rest the other on Jason's. "I know this is going to be difficult to work out, but I'd like to at least try?"

Turning his hand over, Jason squeezed the webbed one encouragingly as he returned the smile. "I'd like that too. Though I have no idea how we're going to manage dates when I can't breathe underwater and you don't have any real way of moving on land."

"Ah. I may have a few ideas on that," T'm assured him, eyes sparkling. "There are many advantages to being a terrestrial biologist."

#JayTim #MerMay #mer AU #scientist AU #SPACE AU #(technically)#themandylion writes #my fic #MerMeme AU #me realizing after the fact I got the meme wrong but it's fine because this is a DIFFERENT meme that Tim is using #obviously #because he's not a marine biologist

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mask131 · 2 years

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Deadly fall: The mummy’s curse

THE MUMMY’S CURSE

Category: Egyptomania / Urban legends / Egyptian belief

When I say “mummy”, you say “curse”. It is part of popular culture: everybody knows that if you open the tomb of a mummy or disturb the corpse of ancient Egyptian ruler, a curse will fall upon you. I can’t count the number of movies, novels and short stories that use mummies as supernatural forces and vengeful undead preying on those that desecrated their eternal rest. But what started this trend? What caused the apparition of this trope in medias? Well, it was a very mediatized case that is still well-known to us today: the curse of Tutankhamun.

In 1922, an event shook the world of archeology, and shaped Egyptology forever: the now famous archeologist Howard Carter discovered and open the tomb of the pharaoh Tutankhamun. It was a world-turning event that marked history… and it was also an event that was soon rumored to have unleashed a curse.

The first incident of the “curse” was actually reported in December 1922 (the tomb having been opened the previous month) by an Egyptologist, James Henry Breasted, a co-worker of Carter. He recalled to a newspaper how after opening the tomb, Carter sent someone to his house to send a message – and upon arriving the messenger heard a cry that he would describe as “faint but almost human-like”. Upon entering the house, the messenger saw that a cobra had broken into the birdcage of Carter’s canary-pet: the snake was still in the cage, with the bird’s corpse in its mouth. Now this incident mostly bothered the “locals” and the “superstitious”: you see, the snake, especially the cobra, was the symbol of the Egyptian pharaohs. It was the “uraeus”, the snake pharaohs wore on their crown, and which was supposed to come to live if the king was ever threatened – the cobra would spit poison on fire on the aggressor. Similarly, cobra-headed goddesses were charged with protecting the person of the pharaoh. As a result, seeing a cobra sneak into the house of the archeologist and killing his pet was interpreted as a sign, or a vengeance – especially since the snake broke into the house the same day Carter broke into the Pharaoh’s tomb, his “eternal house”.

However there was no real talk of a “curse”. The “curse” only began on April 1923 upon the death of Lord Carnarvon. Of his full name George Herbert, Fifth Earl of Carnarvon, he was the man who had financed Carter’s expedition and the exploration of the tomb. He got a nasty mosquito bite in Egypt, which he later slashed by accident when shaving: this led to a blood poisoning which left him gravely sick. During his sickness, the novelist Marie Corelli wrote a letter that was published in the New York World newspaper, in which she explained how it was said and believed that anyone who intruded a sealed Egyptian tomb would suffer a “dire punishment”: two weeks after the letter was written, Lord Carnarvon died. His death, coupled with the letter, couple with the canary incident, led to a huge mediatization of the “curse of Tutankhamun”: all the newspapers wrote about how the curse that had been found inscribed in the tomb, promising punishment to all those who would desecrate the grave, had made its “first victim”. It got so big that Benito Mussolini himself (yes, THE WW2 dictator), who was quite superstitious, asked the Egyptian mummy he had stored in the Chigi Palace to be removed immediately. Fuel was added to the fire by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, who beyond his novelist activity was a very active paranormal enthusiast dabbling in Spiritism, and he studied the case of the “curse”, even publicly making the theory that the Earl had been killed by elemental spirits that were set to guard the tomb by ancient Egyptian priests. And when the corpse of Tutankhamun was autopsied, it was found that the mummy had a lesion on the left cheek – which was equated by media with the mosquito bite that killed Carnarvon (however the corpse of the Earl was never dug-up to verify if the two heals matched).

The curse struck three more times. First “victim”, professor La Fleur, a Canadian archeologist and close friend of Carter. Second “victim”: a railroad financier known as George Jay Gould the First: on May 1923, he died in the French Riviera after getting a nasty fever. His link to the curse? He had gotten his fever around the same time he entered the tomb of Tutankhamun, not as an archeologist but as a simple “visitor”. Third victim: death of colonel Aubrey Herbert, Lord Carnarvon’s youngest half-brother, from a sepsis due to a botched dental operation. The rumor of “curses” became even wider thanks to an anecdote recalled by the anthropologist Henry Field, who had visited the tomb with Breasted (see above) and had friendly relationships with Carter: in 1925, he told the press about a curious story that happened about a friend of Carter, the entrepreneur and philanthropist Sir Bruce Ingram. Sir Ingram had received as a gift a paper-weight made of a mummy hand, and on the wrist was a scarab-adorned bracelet on which was written “Cursed be he who moves my body. To him shall come fire, water, and pestilence.” Soon after receiving the gift, Sir Ingram’s house burned down, and as he attempted to rebuild it, a flood happened. Two parts of the curse were realized – the third however was never completed. By 1925, two more deaths were listed by the press as “victims of Tutankhamun”: professor Hugh Evelyn-White, a collaborator of Carter and one of the first men to enter the mummy’s funeral chamber, who hanged himself after a severe depression ; and Archibald Douglas Reed, the radiologist sent by the Egyptian government to make radios of Tutankhamun’s mummy. Both men died in 1924.

Howard Carter himself was far from being superstitious – he disdained all those sensational rumors and this silly belief in whatever curse the tomb supposedly had. He notably called it “tommy-rot” and “foolish superstitions”. When his diaries was released, we learned that in 1926, Carter saw a jackal while working: not only was this jackal the exact type of beasts corresponding to the god Anubis (see my post about him), but it was the first time Carter ever saw a jackal since working in the Egyptian desert (which was 35 years up to now). And yet, he did not thought of it as a “sign from the Egyptian gods” or a “warning of the curse” – for him it was just an event like another. Howard Carter died sixteen years after the opening of the tomb, in 1939, aged 64, from a lymphoma caused by Hodgkin’s disease – but despite this seemingly natural death, many believed or theorized that he was prematurely killed by the curse. It should be said that between Gould’s death and Carter’s, many more “victims” had been identified as proofs of the “curse”: 1926 saw the death of both the nurse that had treated Lord Carnarvon during his disease and the Egyptologist Georges Aaron Bénédite, who died in Luxor of a congestion soon after visiting the tomb of Tutankhamun. In 1928, Arthur C. Mace, an archeologist part of Carter’s team (and who helped Carter destroy the wall protecting the funeral chamber) died of a combination of pleurisy and pneumonia, while in 1929 Richard Bethell, Carter’s secretary, died in his bed at 35 years old of no obvious causes – it was theorized at the time that he had some sort of vascular accident, or maybe was smothered by someone. And finally, in 1935, James Henry Breasted himself died in New-York, at 70 years old, of an infection.

You’d think the “curse” would have stopped with Carter’s death, but oh no! Many more deaths were added to the list. In 1967 Mohammed Meri, head of the Department of Antiquities of the Egyptian government, died of a brutal cerebral hemorrhage soon after signing a treaty allowing the moving of Tutankhamun’s treasure to Paris for museum expositions. In 1969, the widow of Lord Carnarvon died. She was aged of 92 and died of natural causes – but given who her husband was, it must have been the curse! 1972, Gamal Mehrez, successor of Mohammed Mehri, also died of a cerebral hemorrhage soon after signing another treaty allowing a Tutankhamun exposition in London. And in 1980, lady Evelyn Herbert, daughter of Lord Carnarvon, died at the age of 79 years old: she was recognized by the press as the “last survivor of the Tutankhamun curse”.

Now… no need to tell you that a lot about this “curse” was invented or exaggerated. You could already see that a lot of natural deaths were attributed to the “mysterious working of the curse”, despite the obvious. Many members of the groups that discovered or entered the tomb lived long and healthy life – lady Evelyn Herbert herself died only 57 years after the opening of the tomb, and that despite being one of the first people to enter the funeral vault! If we return to the “origins” of the curse, we should mention that the very basis of the media frenzy, the element that all the newspapers relayed, how a “curse” was found engraved in the tomb… is entirely false. No curse was found engraved, painted or signified in the tomb of Tutankhamun. The very concept of the curse came from previous cases (that I’ll describe below) that were “projected” on this one, or from side-sources… Such as for example Marie Corelli’s letter. But let’s speak about it: this letter that brought forward the whole idea of a “curse”… Well, already we know that Marie Corelli was not an historian or an Egyptologist, but just a novelist – and her “letter” was actually much more imaginative than scientific. And her only reference was a book, already quite obscure at the time, even more today, that was never recognized by the authorities on the question as a reliable source.

Now, while everybody talked about the “curse”, not everybody did so out of superstitions. Many people tried to explain the curse “rationally” by presenting “scientific” explanations: how the group might have used arsenic-laced candles, the presence of rye ergot fungus in the tomb, how the oil used by the embalmers on the mummy might have turned into acidic gazes, how the funeral chamber might have been radioactive… A very popular theory for a time was the one of the exposition to a deadly virus that might have been kept in the tomb for several millennia – a theory fallen flat today. Another just as popular insisted that some toxic fungi might have grown in Tutankhamun’s tomb (which had been noted by Carter to be quite humid, with a mixture of dust irritating the lungs and entire groups of molding fungus disfiguring some of the paintings). But even then, with all those factors taken into account that could have “facilitated” the deaths (not counting the natural health dangers of expeditions in Egypt at the time, and the predisposition of some people to their special deaths – lord Carnarvon was prone to frequent and severe lung infections for example), it should be noted that on the 58 people who were present at the opening of the tomb, and then of the sarcophagus, only eight died in the dozen following years. If there is indeed a curse, it must be a quite slow one.

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Tutankhamun’s curse wasn’t the only “mummy curse” existing – it was just the most famous and most mediatized one. But there were many others. Zahi Hawass, the famous Egyptian archeologist, got personally involved in two of them.

The first one happened when he was still young and worked on the excavations of Kom Abu Bilo (where the ruins of the town of Terenuthis dwelled) – he transported one day several artifacts out of the site, and on the very same day his cousin died. One year later, day for day, it was Hawass’ uncle who died, and three years later day for day, his aunt. He only considered it to be a curse possibly related to the Egyptian artefacts when he explored a tomb later and found in it the writing “All people who enter this tomb, and who will make evil against it and destroy it, then the crocodiles will be against them in waters, and the snakes against them on land ; the hippopotamuses will be against them in water, and the scorpions on land”. Hawass, of his own admission, is not superstitions, but all of this still gave him a certain respect for the mummies, that he tried to avoid disturbing as much as possible – a decision that was later confirmed by another incident. Years later, he was implied in the transformation of mummies from Bahariya Oasis to a museum: it wasn’t just any mummies however, it was the two corpses of children. Starting from the very night he moved the mummies, Hawass was plagued by nightmares involving the two dead children – and these bad dreams only stopped when the mummy of their father was reunited with them in the museum. This is notably what led him to his personal beliefs: mummies should not be exposed or put on display, by nature it is something wrong, but in the greater scope of things it is a “lesser evil” when compared to the even more dangerous and disrespectful option of letting people walk into tombs as if they were museums.

Tales of “mummy curses” were in fact sometimes retroactively recognized – it should be remembered that not only were those not quite famous before Tutankhamun, but also the hieroglyphs were only translated in the 19th century, when Egyptomania and the quest for mummies had begun much earlier. But given there was no knowledge of these “curses”, people just told this as weird incident and spooky stories. Such a record dates from the 17th century: a Polish traveler bought two mummies in Alexandria, and brought them with him on the ship that carried him home. But during the journey he had several disturbing visions of the ghosts of the mummies, and the sea became very stormy. The fear of the specters and the worrying disturbances of the sea led the Polish man to throw the mummies overboard to get rid of them and their “evil” – and as soon as he did that, the sea became calm again.

But now let’s speak of the real thing… The curses themselves. “Everybody knows that the Egyptians protected their tombs with curses, so that anyone who disturbs them may die”. That’s “common knowledge” – but often “common knowledge” can be quite false. Now, these curses DID exist, yes, but they were not as common as one may think. Mostly because ancient Egyptians did not even thought that someone in their right mind would try to steal from a tomb or desecrate the corpse inside: Egyptians had a very strong death-culture with strict funeral rites and a complex mythology of corpse-protecting gods – in fact the very action of writing about desecration of graves was seen as a dangerous thing to do (because it might give idea to other people). Most of these tomb-curses are found in private tombs (aka the tombs of the wealthy and powerful) from the Old Kingdom (aka the “Era of Pyramids”, the oldest of old Egypt), but they are very vague : they speak of the gods judging impure men entering the tomb and refusing their future offerings and prayers, of the dead putting fear of themselves in the heart of those that do evil to the coffin, of wicked rulers trying to desecrate the tomb ending up heirless… In the following eras of Egypt (Middle Kingdom and New Kingdom), the curses became less numerous, much rarer – but much more… “intense” and more specific. Frequently the god Thoth and the goddess Sekhmet were invoked in those warnings texts, and the promise of inevitable death and incurable diseases made the bulk of these execrations.

If there were so little “curse texts”, it is because most of the texts written inside tombs or in front of them were not “warnings” towards intruders or “punishments” for robbers ; but rather instructions and order given to the spirits and the priests charged with guarding the tomb, reminding them to preserve the purity of the grave and the integrity of the body.

#deadly fall #mummy #mummy's curse #curse #tutankhamun's curse

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