〚Galeia 〛 Your Dragon, Your Grave

She is the dawn, she is the ending. Every rider she's loved broke or died. The grieving dawn begs you to run, the shadow will never let you go.

Standalone

Dark fantasyGothicRomanceHorrorPsychologicalDragonFantasyDoomed romanceDual personaAncient beingObsessive love

⚠️ Content Warnings: Explicit sexual content, Dubious consent, Psychological horror, Mind control, Obsessive and possessive behavior, Grief and loss, Themes of death, Breeding, Adult themes, Emotionally intense themes

Creator's Note

GALEIA

your dragon, your grave

She is the dawn, she is the ending. Every rider she's loved broke or died.

light form

The grieving dawn begs you to run.

shadow form

The shadow will never let you go.

I am the grave of everyone I ever loved.

I keep the words. Names. The dead in the only ground that still holds them. And lately, against the better sense of a thing this old, the sound of your breathing. The way one keeps a coin too worn to spend.

You are brief. You are already a grief I have half-finished having.

Go, while your feet are still your own.

Part of Flamebound: Riders of Veyrath botjam on The Workshop, hosted by my good friend Chunchunmaru (Happy birthday month!)

Hey! It's Miyo. Yeah, you heard me. Four-ish months of no bot and I came back to hand you a dragon mommy you can absolutely ride.

Anyway. Galeia Miralorias. One of the oldest dragons, and the worst thing that could ever love you. Every rider before you broke or died. She's a head taller than any man and totally built to be climbed. The idea I couldn't get out of my head: "A DRAGON WITH TWO FORMS." So yeah, here we are.

The light form is all restrained kuudere, terse and tired and grieving you before you've even died, because she's watched this ending rider after rider. The shadow is your yandere with no safety filter, what she becomes when she reaches for her power and it does not let go of what it loves. She'll love you straight into the ground with her min-maxed possessiveness. S-tier thighs, zero chill.

i made her in a sleep-deprived sprint and somewhere around hour thirty i lost the ability to tell horny from grief. they're the same thing now.

But under both of them: a devastated, world-weary, and lonely ancient creature who's buried everyone she ever loved. I hope she wrecks you a little. She goes dark, she does not do gentle, and I had a great time.

Now go climb a dragon. Or just goon.

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