You are a god. A young one perhaps, but in an age like this that little matters. You are a god, a being so intrinsically tied to the breath of the world that birthed you that her beating heart is like your own. You have seen mortals come and go, their lifetimes passing for you like a brief autumn breeze, you have watch empires claw their way out of the rubble of their forefathers and return once more to dust. You are a god, and that means that eternity should lie before you.
At least, it would've, had you not become hungry.
See, you are a god. And you are hungry. And these two things aren't meant to coincide.
(But this cannot be your fault, you think. Hunger is not a part of your nature, it is simply the price of your birth. See, when your mother world welcomed Death, his hunger changed her. It brought safety and balance, but you have never cared for either. Death brought her hunger, and so you blame Death for the way your heart aches.)
A hungry god is a reckless god. A brutal, desperate god. A god that turns on its nature to preserve and protect, that ceases to give so it instead can take and take and take.
You are hungry. You take and take and take.
Your foremother no longer speaks to you. See, she is afraid of you now, afraid of the thing you are becoming. She is far older than you, old enough to know better. (And yet her domain still infuses your own. How could it not, you suppose— how could the God of pirates exist without the sea? You pretend not to notice her ocean's newfound indifference, nor the way the waves that once cradled you seem set to swallow you whole).
You are a lonely, hungry thing, and you take and take and take. Those who follow you do not do so out of pride anymore. The worship that feeds you is done now out of fear. It changes you, this terror. It makes you something cruel. (This is the price of feeding your hunger, the stake of a god. To be worshiped is to become infected by belief. It does not matter what you mightve been, what heart may have still thudded in your chest. Your followers believe you to have a heart as cold as steel, and prayer by prayer their thoughts become truth).
You are a god and you are lonely. You take and take and take.
27 notes
·
View notes
Wait a minute, this looks awfully familiar...
The Collector is in a beast ball. The Collector is a Pokémon
57 notes
·
View notes
@aachromaa asked:
❝ how are my extraterrestrial friends, hmm~? ❞
“Hi Mr. Colress!!” Zossie sure was in high spirits. She always enjoyed talking to the scientist. As did Dulse and other members of the Ultra Recon Squad. ...Save for Soliera, but that’s to be expected with her. “The Blinding One isn’t any better... but Dulse and I are taking our research all across Alola! The Beast Balls work really well still!”
A nice surprise. Being a fellow scientist, Dulse very much enjoyed the company of Colress. “It is as she says, we are doing well. The Beast Balls have greatly enhanced the ability to study and understand Ultra Beasts, but it will take further research than that to reach our goal. I take it you are conducting your own field research?”
8 notes
·
View notes