#rainbringer

[lavendergalactic]

if my dad's genshin oc was really in genshin i wonder what the fandom's reaction to him would be im so freaking curious

[softmoonlightmelody]

hey uhm can you tell me about your ocs. who are they

okay so i just answered the felix ask so. not getting more info on him

Gardenia (tagged #mppw) pronounced gar-deen-ya - she's the kind of insane that thinks she's normal. Her best friend is in love with her (she is aroace). She drinks heavily caffeinated tea because coffee is not a thing in the setting. She's quite young but also way too young to be in charge of the government. She is currently the most powerful person in the government. For relevant reasons, she hates the government. Everyone says she's like her mother, which is true. She is also incredibly autistic. Like her mother. Writing her is quite difficult because it requires an intentional, formal style, as well as at least three footnotes every page. Half those footnotes say something like 'see footnote 46, 32, and 9'. She has legal custody of her niece. She's in her very early twenties. Gardenia does not have the self-awareness to hate her life. I love her.

Latona (tagged #mppw) pronounced le-nor-uh - also insane! In a completely different way. She got disowned for inheritance reasons when she was eighteen, left the continent out of spite, and began running a criminal empire. Has killed a couple people. Latona is much more self-aware than Gardenia but this does absolutely nothing for her.

Niyune (untagged, but I guess I'll invent one right now #rainbringer) pronounced nee-yoon - got a heavily religious ceremonial role at the tender age of five. Believes herself comparable to god as a result. Is currently completely unaware of how trans she is. She's so nonbinary it's almost funny. She lives in a flower-themed world for fairies. She wants to explore more. I think she should do some introspection. Niyune disagrees with me.

Yǎlíng (#hair pins and azaleas) - realized that her uncle killed her parents and thought the answer to living was faking being incredibly shallow and fake and unable to hold the throne for a second. Was right. All of her hair pins double as weapons and almost all of her houseplants are azaleas (which are incredibly poisonous). Does not sleep because that's when she's doing her political reading. 70% of her emotions are fear, 20% are spite, and the rest are judiciously lent out on occasion. Her aunt (who married the guy who killed her parents) is her favourite family member because she's the only other one who knows what's going on. Has been trying to find a way to poison her uncle for three years.

Inajmé and Erhané (#sdsoytag) pronounce een-azh-MAY and air-hahn-AY - do not ask about the tag. Anyway, Inajmé is the chosen one. Erhané is her sister. An exploration of what it means to be the second one, in every occasion, simply because of factors outside your control. This works primarily because Inajmé would throw the world she's supposed to save away for Erhané, and Erhané would do likewise.

There's quite a bit more but. I don't have enough to elaborate on. Oops.

[that-gay-jedi]

Names.

Many years ago a friend of mine, whose life story I already knew in intimate detail, posted about how she had chosen the name Aurora for herself because of the actual celestial aurora "dancing despite the cold and dark." Somehow it told me so much about her, even though none of the facts tied to this- how much she valued joy, her immensely traumatic past, her appreciation of beauty, her understanding of herself- were new to me.

We don't have, AFAIK, any canonical etymology of Anakin's name. We don't even have an extratextual origin like we do with names like Shaak Ti or Qui-Gon Jinn (the two leading theories about where Lucas could've pulled Anakin's name from both have strong evidence against them which makes it all hard to pin down).

We do know that he values his name, that he wears it with pride- in fact this is one of the very first things we learn about him. This is before it becomes one of his last ties to his mother. This apparently remains so despite the fact that it became one of his last ties to Tatooine. We know that when Darth Vader says "That name no longer has any meaning to me" it is showing us how much he completely, UTTERLY subverted himself in his Fall to the dark.

Fanon mostly seems reluctant to assign in-universe etymology to Anakin, with the notable exception of Fialleril's Double Agent Vader (where it essentially means "rainbringer"- world changer, freedom bringer, promise fulfilled, a hoped-for someday feel). Are we afraid to touch it? Or just unable to pin down something about Anakin that might inform his name?

Skywalker is easier at least in a "what was GL thinking" sense. It's even lampshaded in the TPM novelization when a stranger upon learning Anakin's name says "You walk the sky like you own it." It was chosen for Luke, also a great pilot, before we even had an Anakin Skywalker to cry about. Yet it came from Shmi who was not a pilot herself.

Idk pals I just think about names a lot and especially with how big a deal names are between Anakin and Obi-Wan but we'll never know exactly what it meant (in a literal, linguistic sense) to him. Names say so, so much about a person.

[whososez]

Text:

The water-witch took pity on us, folded our tired river in half, then half again. Unraveled, the blue stretched into the sky--raining for the first time in a generation.

VSS365 Prompt - Fold

[sunshiline-writes]

The Rainbringer #3: A Canvas Is What You Are

previous | Masterlist | Next

Kyler has a conversation with his partner before meeting with Claire. (Comfort). Claire decides that blood makes for good decoration and a good lesson to be learned. (So much whump) CW: GORE GORE GORE, Lady Whumper, mentions of past torture, knife whump, Claire being super freaking creepy, knife whump, stabbing, lots of blood. let me know If I missed anything.

The morning air was crisp and clear. His tea was warm and tasted soft. Chamomile to help him relax. It was supposed to help. Sleeping through the night was hard. Claire's words rummaged through his brain all night. Bring a knife tomorrow, I want to try something. Whatever it was, it better not ruin his clothing. He’d be pissed if he had to make a new shirt. Otherwise, he knew she could heal him, so he wouldn’t die. That at least was a very subtle comfort. Perhaps he should be a little more bothered by it, but he was surprisingly calm about this situation. If he wasn’t calm, he just thought about the rain. 

He heard the cane hit the floor behind him. “You’re up early Ky,” said Irvington, walking next to him on the porch. “I thought you were going to try and go back to sleep.” 

Kyler shrugged slightly and sipped his tea. “Couldn’t fall asleep.” 

“Nightmares?” 

“Not quite.” 

He couldn’t bear to look at Irvington’s face, their brow furrowed in concern. They were always concerned about his well being for some reason he couldn’t quite fathom. The two of them had been a pair for longer than he could remember. Kyler was 36 now, and Irvington 38. They’d been friends since they were young children, so the friendship had been going on a good thirty or so years. People always assumed they were more than that. Maybe they were, honestly, Kyler wasn’t too keen on being in a real labeled relationship, and Irvington had never complained about this lack of want. Irvington was good like that. Never really complaining about him until Kyler did something that could be considered ‘detrimental to his well being’. 

“Well.. if you’re alright,” they said, sighing slightly. An ache in Kyler’s heart hit him suddenly. Why? Why did Irvington have to be so good. 

“I swear I'm fine, Irv. Just one bad night. I promise, okay?” 

“Pinkie swear,” Irvington said, holding out their left pinky, staring him down. Kyler hooked their pinkies together and mustered up a small smile. “You should take a day off from prayer today, join me at the market. They always ask for you. Everyone is amazed at your paintings. Always pay the highest price.” 

Kyler blushed slightly at the praise. “I wish I could. But.. its, it’s important to me. The Temple. The Prayer. It’s working you see? The rain came.” 

“You can’t think that’s because you’ve been going to the Temple everyday can you?” 

A frown lined Kylers features and he turned to Irvington, “I can, and I do.” It was frustrating that Irvington didn’t believe him. They were always the cynic and a skeptic. Kyler was always a believer, an optimist. 

“You’re right, you’re right, I’m sorry,” they said, raising a hand in surrender. The other hand was in a knuckle white grip on their cane. “I just miss you going to market with me. You’re always there, you go early, come home late. I just miss you.” 

There was a tightness in his throat as he tried to come up with an answer. But he was at a loss for words. 

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. I understand. I do. I’ve got to go set up the market,” they said as they turned to walk back into the house. 

“Irvington,” Kyler called out, and Irvington paused, hand on the door to go inside. “I miss you too. I’m sorry.” They turned to face Kyler again, sad smile lining their features. He hated to see Irvington sad. “We can go into town tonight. When I get back. It’ll be like a date.” 

“A date?” Irvington chuckled, “I like the sound of that. Now get dressed. You’ll be late to your prayers.” 

*** 

Claire was getting impatient with Kyler. The man was late today. She’d had enough of his disrespect. Of his nonchalance and calm demeanor. Mostly things had been tame with their meetings. Simple things. Beatings, choking, humiliation, making him beg. But nothing like what she planned to do today. No no, she had yet to hear him scream. She’d made him squirm, cry, and beg, but now she was itching for something more. A morbid curiosity. She wanted to know how loud he could scream, how long she could keep him for before he started to beg to be let go. Hearing him beg was the best part about this agreement. It made a pleasure pool in her stomach and radiate through her body. The other gods had always said she had a bit of a sadistic streak. Well, they were right. But now she finally had someone she could actually act it out upon. He was perfect. He had blue eyes like hers, brown skin, and long hair that was usually pulled back into a low ponytail. She hated his long hair. But she let it slide for now. Claire had decided it was fun to run her hands through it. At any rate, she’d cut it herself if she found it too distracting. 

She was sitting on top of the altar when Kyler finally walked in, looking as he always did. Perfectly calm. 

“You’re late today Kyler. I expect you to be on time.” 

“I had things to take care of at home,” he said plainly, letting the door close behind him. 

She decided to ignore his insolence. “Did you bring what I asked?” She took notice of the pause before he spoke next 

“Yes.” 

“Bring it here then,” Claire said, holding out a hand, waiting for him to bring it to her. Kyler did so, walking slowly up to her, not meeting her eyes as he placed the small kitchen knife into her hand. Handle in her palm. She closed her palm around it, examining it, she could see her own reflection in it. Clean, perfectly so. Claire expected nothing less from the man. 

“Take off your shirt,” she ordered, kicking her feet as they hung off the altar. The man stepped back and frowned. He shook his head, body tense. A smile graced her lips. “Please make me ask again,” she said sweetly, not taking her eyes off the knife as she twirled it in her hands. 

“Why?” He asked finally, staring at her in horror. Oh it was that face that made him so delectable to control. The way he stuttered and faltered at everything she did. Claire was feeding off his fear. 

“I don’t want you to ruin such a nice shirt. It would be a shame if you got blood all over it.” 

Kyler whimpered slightly, looking around, perhaps for an escape? She didn’t like that. Hopping off the altar, she strode toward him, no longer smiling. 

“Shirt. Off. Now.” she ordered again, less of a mocking tone now. 

The man slowly reached toward the edges of his shirt, thinking. One day, she would make sure he would never hesitate at a word she said. He wouldn’t think when an order came. Kyler Lluvia would be a good little boy and kneel when told. 

“I don’t want to.” Kyler said stubbornly. 

“Oh I was hoping you’d say that,” and with that phrase she moved, the knife sliding into his stomach far too easily. Kyler gasped, his blood was warm on her fingers. “I’m going to paint this temple with your blood, and when you’re about to run out, I’ll heal you. Then do it again,” Claire twisted the knife and Kyler screamed, raw and hoarse as he fell to his knees. Claire stood over him and twisted again, pulling out another scream from the man. “And again, and again.” Pulling out the knife and letting Kyler fall to the floor, gasping for breath, trying to crawl and scramble away from her. 

“You’re my canvas today Kyler. And oh what beautiful art I'll make with you.” 

TAGLIST: @for-the-love-of-angst @devourerofcheesecake @robinbugbanned @whumpinthepot

Let me know if you'd like to be added or removed!

[sunshiline-writes]

Rainbringer #2: Say That Again

Kyler starts regretting his decision about making a deal with a goddess. Claire finds out she likes it when Kyler begs.

CW: begging, aftermath of choking, noncon touching (nonsexual), begging, fear of choking, fear of death, brief mention of a knife at the end

Previous | Masterlist | Next

His head hurt. There was a deep throbbing ache on the front of his skull. It took a moment to realize that someone was touching him. Stroking his hair, playing with it. He groaned and tried to lift his head. Then he opened his eyes. Ah, he was still in the temple. Claire was stroking his hair. Oh, she was stroking his hair and his head was in her damn lap. No, no, he didn’t like that. But he felt so heavy. His eyes felt so heavy, he wondered for a moment if she was playing a trick. The gentle, soft touch. He didn’t expect this from her. 

“I passed out,” he mumbled, looking up at her. His brain was foggy, like everything was in slow motion. Even his tongue felt heavy. 

“Yes you did,” she agreed, smiling gently, “I went too far. I always forget..” 

Kyler didn’t say anything, he just started to push himself to sit up. Claire didn’t stop him. His hair had fallen out of its neat low ponytail and he groaned slightly when he righted himself. He brought a hand to his neck, suddenly remembering the feeling of her hands around it. Squeezing, letting go, squeezing. Suddenly he felt like he couldn’t breathe again. 

“I healed the bruising,” she stated plainly. 

Kyler sighed slightly but it came out more like a wheeze. It was the panic, not the damage. He knew he could breathe normally again but it was the memory of it that was making him feel unwell. Holding his head he groaned again. 

“Wow, thanks for that. Really helped me out there,” Kyler said sarcastically, grabbing onto a bench in the temple, and pushing himself into an awkward standing position. He stood half bent over the bench, eyes shut tightly. This headache wasn’t going away was it? No no, this was a different headache. 

“I thought we learned a lesson ten minutes ago about disrespect,” Claire said, her voice right next to his ear, breath hot. She was always so close. Did she need to be that close? “I figured I would get rid of the bruises as a favor. For when you go home tonight. Anyone waiting for you?” 

Kyler winced as he stood up, turning to face her. Lying would be met with punishment so he answered as vaguely as he could. “Yes.” 

“Who?” 

“Knowing my personal life was not part of this agreement,” Kyler said warily, gauging her reaction. 

“True, but knowing makes you more interesting for me to play with.” 

“Great, I definitely want that for me.” Her eyes turned cruel again, and he raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry,” he mumbled. 

There was a pause in the room. Like even the air itself stopped moving. 

“Say that again,” Claire said, a bit giddily. A child. Why did she act like a child when she was the most cruel? 

“What?” he asked, licking his lips slightly. 

“You heard me Kyler,” again her eyes were lit up in childlike wonder at the way she was forcing him to apologize again. 

“I don’t-” 

She shoved him on the bench and he grabbed the front of it to stop himself from falling. He really should have just apologized in the first place. His sarcasm was getting him into trouble here. As per usual, but this was different. This was a goddess. As long as she didn’t put her hands around his throat again. Anything but that. 

“Don’t be stubborn, just apologize. Or I can keep you here for longer. I can make you pass out again. Worry whoever is waiting for you at home.” 

Kyler bit his lip and balled his fists. Step one to getting through this deal alive and not worrying Irvington: get over his pride. 

“No.. I’m sorry..” he finally said, swallowing hard. Picturing her hands around his throat again. “I’m sorry.. Please.. Please just let me go home.” 

Claire sighed contently, gently running her hand through his hair, moving it behind his ear. Always touching, always. What was with the touching? It took everything in him not to slap her hands away. 

“I love how sweet you sound when you’re begging. I’m going to ask for that more often,” she mused, running her fingers over his ear, tugging playfully on his earlobe. He stood up and she took a few steps back. 

“Can I leave now?” 

“Yes Kyler,” Claire said with a pout, “But we are going to have so much fun tomorrow.” 

So much fun, he thought to himself, as he started to walk past her. 

“Bring a knife tomorrow, I want to try something.” 

His heart stopped. 

Started again. 

He left the temple without another word. 

Kyler was starting to regret his deal with the goddess. Was the pain worth the rain? The answer was still yet to be answered.  tag list: @robinbugbanned @devourerofcheesecake @whumpinthepot @for-the-love-of-angst

[bookcoversonly]

Title: Rainbringer | Author: Adam Berg | Publisher: Carpe Vitam Press (2021)