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moeitsu · 1 month ago

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The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Ch 20 - More Than We Dared To Tell

Summary: In vulnerability they meet. As the world fades to a gentle hum, their hearts beat as if they're one. In the aftermath, quiet and deep. Love whispers promises they'll keep.

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A/N: I'm so happy to finally post this. It took me forever to write and when I first started it I just hated everything that came out. Plus I had writers block. But I really like this one. It reads more like an erotica than smut, and it's my first time trying this kind of writing. I hope you guys like it! 7k words

TW: NSFW. Adult content 18+. p in v, no protection. I love making men vulnerable hehe

Tag List: @photo1030 @ariacherie @thatweirdcatlady @ultraporcelainpig @marygillisapologist @eternalsams @lunawolfclaw @yallgotkik

**please let me know if you would like to be tagged in future chapters!

Story Tags: Canon Divergence, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Emotional Sex, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort,Touch-Starved, Sexual Tension, Friends to Lovers, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Blood and Violence, Survivor Guilt, Caretaking, Period-Typical Racism, Anxiety, Emotional Constipation, Self-Doubt, Men Crying, Bathing/Washing, Sweet/Hot, Romantic Angst, Romantic Fluff

Kate sat across from Arthur, her eyes trained on the quiet sights outside of the rolling stagecoach. Her presence commanded his attention even in the dim, flickering light of the coach's interior. Dressed in her elegant attire, she radiated an ethereal grace that captivated him.

Throughout the evening, her laughter had mingled with the soft clinks of glass and the subdued murmur of the party, making Arthur's heart flutter uncontrollably. Dancing with her had only deepened the ache, a longing mingled with affection. Almost forgetting their goal of the night was to gather information, Arthur was lost in her beauty.

Their earlier encounter that morning had been a mere whisper of what Arthur envisioned for tonight. He had whispered promises, sketching out desires that left her flushed and breathless. Yet, the real surprise awaited at the outskirts of the city—a pause in their lives, a moment of privacy just for them.

Tonight, he and Kate deserved peace, a slice of time just for them, to explore the depths of their bond without intrusion. Arthur made a silent vow that by the end of their night his name would be carved into her heart, and he would repay her for this morning's gift tenfold. He would make love to her until she knew nothing else but his desire.

As the stagecoach drew to a gentle stop, Kate's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why are we stopping here?" her voice tinged with concern.

With a wide, conspiratorial grin, Arthur was already stepping out of the coach, the cool night air brushing against his face. He reached back, offering his hand to her.

Low and enticing, Arthur replied, "C’mon, Princess. I have something to show you."

Taking his hand, Kate allowed him to help her down, her eyes wide with curiosity. Behind them, Hosea gave her a reassuring nod, a silent blessing as Lenny cracked the reins and the coach rumbled away, carrying the rest of their group back toward camp.

"What's this about, Arthur? Are we not heading back with them?" Kate asked, eyes taking in her surroundings. Her gaze drifted to the quaint building before them.

Warm light spilled from its windows, casting a welcoming glow in the night. Baskets of wildflowers hung from the porch awning, mingled with green ivy that crept its way towards the sky. The aroma of freshly baked bread wafted through the air, inviting and homely. The sound of quiet laughter came humming from a few open windows.

Above the door, a large blue sign with elegant white cursive announced, "Bailey’s Bed & Breakfast."

Arthur's excitement was palpable, his eyes shining with anticipation as he guided her toward the entrance. "I've got us a room for the night. Just you and me darlin’." he revealed, warm with promise. “No interruptions.”

As they entered the cozy warmth of the B & B, Kate couldn't help but be swept away by Arthur's earnestness and the intimate promise of the evening. The lobby was quaint, adorned with floral wallpaper and soft, flickering candlelight that cast a gentle glow. There was a small orchestra playing a quiet tune next to the bar, its melody light and romantic. Kate turned towards Arthur, her eyes glistening with gratitude and affection.

“Surprise,” he whispered quietly. Admiring the way she gaped at every little detail.

Kate reached up, her fingers brushing against his cheek as she pulled him down for a tender, appreciative kiss. "Thank you," she breathed, the words mingling with their lips.

“Don’t go thankin’ me yet, sweetheart,” Arthur's response was deep, his arms wrapping around her with a strength that spoke of barely restrained desire. His hands began to roam, tracing the contours of her back, fingers teasing at the buttons of her dress as if they were mere obstacles to what he desired most.

Kate looped her arm in Arthur’s as they approached the front desk. An elderly woman smiled and reached behind her to grab a small key before they could speak. Sliding it across the polished hardwood she spoke, “the honeymoon suit is all set Mr. Kilgore. You and your wife have a good night now.”

Honeymoon, Kate chuckled to herself and raised an amused brow at Arthur as they ascended the winding staircase. His response was a playful wink. He’s really taking this fake marriage seriously, Kate thought. The idea of him being so chivalrous made her cheeks warm.

As they reached the top of the stairs, their movements were eager yet graceless, the urgency between them growing. Arthur pressed Kate against the door to their room, his lips claiming hers with hunger. His hands explored the contours of her back as he fumbled with the key, his hunger mounting with the struggle.

The door swung open, and they stepped into the room, their connection unbroken, their kisses only deepening. Arthur kicked the door shut behind him, his focus solely on Kate. His lips traced a path from hers, down her neck, eliciting a soft moan from her lips as her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.

Inside, the room welcomed them with its understated charm. A large, plush bed dominated the space, its quilts soft and inviting, whispering promises of comfort and closeness. Kate broke their kiss only for a moment to take it all in.

“Did I do alright?” Arthur whispered against her neck, his desire betraying a deeper need for her approval.

Taking a step back from their embrace, she gave the space a good deserving look. The bed was adorned with a delicate canopy that cascaded from the ceiling like a silken waterfall. Wispy, translucent drapes created a soft enclosure that whispered of passion. The fabric caught the glowing light of the small hearth, scattering it into a gentle glow that bathed the room in warmth.

The fireplace, set into an ornately carved stone mantle, crackled softly, the golden flames swaying in a dance. Shadows flickered across the walls, playing hide-and-seek with the fire’s glow. The scent of burning cedar and pine curled through the air, mingling with the faint aroma of wildflowers. It was a comforting warmth, one that wrapped around her as surely as Arthur’s arms had moments before, inviting them to sink into the evening’s embrace.

To the side of the hearth stood a tall, elegant mirror framed in dark mahogany, its polished wood adorned with intricate floral carvings. The glass reflected the room’s amber light, capturing fleeting glimpses of their shared glances and quiet smiles. It was the kind of mirror that seemed to hold secrets, where dreams and reality met in between glances.

Opposite the bed, large windows stretched to the ceiling, framed by flowing drapes that billowed with the slightest breeze. The fabric, soft and translucent, allowed just enough of the starlit sky to peek through, casting silvery light across the floor. When the wind stirred, the drapes moved like dancers, swaying gently. The world outside was forgotten, left behind in favor of this private haven where time seemed to slow and hearts dared to hope.

Kate returned her gaze to Arthur’s, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as emotion welled up from deep within, overwhelmed by the sincerity of his gesture. “Oh, Arthur, I love it,” she breathed, her voice trembling. “I love you.”

Arthur’s smile widened, his eyes reflecting a tenderness that stirred a deep warmth inside her. “I love you more, Kate.” His gaze shifted around the room, brows knitting momentarily. “Damn,” he muttered with a slight chuckle. “Looks like they forgot something.”

With a gentle kiss pressed to her forehead, he murmured a promise to return and slipped out the door, leaving the air between them humming with anticipation. Kate drew a deep breath, the heat of the night mingling with the simmering desire that pulsed beneath her skin.

The room was stifling, charged with the memory of Arthur’s touch and the lingering scent of him. She crossed to the window, easing it open further until the cool night breeze swept in, brushing over her flushed skin. It was a welcome contrast to the warmth inside her, clearing her mind and heightening her senses. Her heart thundered in her chest.

Turning towards the tall mirror, she admired the way the deep crimson dress hugged her curves. It suited her in a way that made her feel powerful, alluring, and beautiful. With a soft sigh, she began undoing the pins that held her hair in place, feeling the weight fall in loose waves around her shoulders. The release sent a shiver down her spine.

Fingers deftly worked the buttons at the back of her dress, each one undone with a deliberate, tenderness. The velvet fabric slipped down her arms, gliding over her body like a lover’s touch before pooling at her feet. She gathered it and draped it over the mirror, leaving herself clad in nothing but a thin, silken chemise.

The soft silk caressed her skin as she moved, the delicate straps slipping from her shoulders as she adjusted them, the fabric skimming down just enough to hint at the curves beneath. Her pulse quickened, the anticipation almost too much to bear—and she was oblivious to the door easing open behind her.

The sudden shift in the air made her heart stutter, and she turned, eyes widening as they met Arthur’s gaze. The room felt smaller, the distance between them vanishing as he crossed the threshold with deliberate, confident strides.

The wine bottle in his hand was forgotten as it fell onto the bed, the sound muffled by the plush covers. Before she could react, Arthur’s strong hands framed her face, pulling her into a kiss that was deep and fervent. Their mouths met, tongues intertwining as he released a low, guttural groan that sent shivers down her spine.

His warm hands moved down her neck, the rough pads of his thumbs tracing slow circles over her sensitive skin. One hand slipped behind her head, tipping it back to deepen their kiss, while the other glided down to cup her breast through the thin silk of her chemise. His thumb found the taut peak, teasing it with maddening pressure. She gasped into his mouth, pressing herself against him as the ache between her thighs made itself known.

Arthur was the first to break for air, his eyes dark and intense as they roved over her flushed face. "God, you’re so beautiful," he murmured, his voice rough with need. "You make it impossible to keep my hands off you." He punctuated the statement with a playful pinch to her bottom, drawing a surprised yelp and a soft, breathless laugh from her.

Kate leaned into him, stealing another kiss before her gaze shifted to the neglected bottle on the bed. Her lips curved into a mischievous smile. "What did you bring us?"

Reaching for the bottle, Arthur presented her with an elegant red wine, its label in gold cursive reading “Brunello di Montalcino”.

Arthur's fingers danced over the bottle as he carefully broke the seal, the soft crinkle of foil breaking the stillness of the room. “Bartender told me they used to serve this to the royal family in Rome,” he said with a quiet chuckle, the warmth of his voice tugging at her heart. “Thought it might be fitting. Royal wine for a royal woman.”

Kate smiled, the curve of her lips softening as she watched him work, her gaze lingering on the steady movement of his hands. “I’m certainly no princess,” she murmured, her voice a hushed whisper, unsure if it was meant as a joke or a truth she couldn’t quite grasp.

Arthur’s eyes lifted from the bottle, locking with hers, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Well, ya are to me,” he said, his voice tender, yet thick with something deeper. “Besides, with the way you looked tonight, I think we might have to tell our children otherwise.”

The word children fell between them like a heavy, unexpected weight. Kate’s heart stuttered, and her breath caught in her throat. She froze, unable to move, as if the world had briefly stopped spinning.

Lorena.

She had wanted them once, long ago, in another lifetime when hope had still danced lightly in her chest. But that was over a decade ago. So much had changed since then, the woman she was now a far cry from the one who dared to dream of motherhood again.

It was impossible. She was impossible.

Her stomach turned at the thought of disappointing him. How could she not have told him sooner? How could she have let this moment slip by without giving him the truth, especially now, when it seemed so tender and raw between them? He had just spoken of a future, one that included their children, and she had no idea he felt that way. Her heart ached with a mixture of joy and dread, because she knew she could never give him what he wanted.

Her mind spiraled, her thoughts scrambling for clarity, but before she could grasp them, the cork popped from the bottle with a sharp, sudden noise. Kate flinched, her body betraying the storm inside her. Arthur’s eyes immediately flicked to her, his expression shifting with concern.

“Darlin’, you alright?” His voice was softer now, more urgent, as he placed the bottle aside and moved toward her.

Kate blinked, trying to steady herself, her fingers trembling as she tried to form words that would make sense. “You want…?” Her throat tightened, the words slipping from her lips like fragile glass, ready to shatter. “Arthur, I didn’t know you wanted children.”

Arthur’s gaze flickered with surprise, as if the question had come out of nowhere. He looked away for a moment, brow furrowed, before meeting her eyes again. His words had come so easily, without thought or hesitation. He hadn’t even realized how much he longed for that future until now, until he saw her standing there, her eyes full of softness and strength, a woman he had come to care for more than anything. He had never dreamed about a second chance at fatherhood before—hell, he barely understood the responsibilities he already had, especially after Isaac.

But now, with Kate, something had shifted. He wanted to be better. He wanted to give her everything. To give his children a life full of love and laughter. A life he never had.

Arthur reached for her, his hands trailing down her arms, feeling the coolness of her skin beneath his touch. He paused when he reached her hands, holding them gently. His grip was firm but tender, the warmth of his palm sending heat straight to her heart.

“Kate,” he began, his voice lower now, as though he was speaking from a place deep within. “I know things are… complicated right now. But you’ve opened my eyes in ways I never thought possible.” He squeezed her hands, the sincerity in his words wrapping around her like a protective embrace. “I want you in my future. And if we make it out of this alive... if you’ll still have me, I want to have a baby with you.”

His words, so heartfelt and raw, shot through her like a wave. Her heart surged, the ache of longing and love intertwining. He had truly come so far from the man she first met, the broken outlaw haunted by ghosts of the past. The man before her now was different—stronger, more whole—Arthur was truly healing. And Kate wanted nothing more than to be a part of that future with him. But her past, she had tried to bury it so deep, now threatened to tear it all apart.

Her eyes fluttered closed as a painful sigh escaped her lips, and when she spoke, her voice was small, fragile. “I’m so sorry, Arthur, but I can’t give you children.” The words trembled in the air between them, like fragile glass breaking. Her heart shattered just saying them, but she had to. She couldn’t live with herself if she lied to him.

Arthur’s expression shifted—first confusion, then something softer, sorrowful—but his gaze never left hers. He said nothing, but the silence between them spoke volumes. She could see the ache in his eyes, the pain of the unspoken.

Kate swallowed thickly, her chest tight with grief as the memories threatened to claw their way to the surface. “What happened to me... when I was captured, I—” She choked on the words, feeling the darkness creeping back, the horrors she had locked away for so long. “I’m certain that what they did to me—” She couldn’t finish, her hands silently moving across her belly in a self embrace.

Before she could utter another word, Arthur pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against him, as though he could shield her from the demons she was struggling to face. “That’s enough, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “I ain’t gonna make you relive that.”

Kate’s face pressed into his chest, her voice muffled as she spoke, words thick with unshed tears. “I can’t have a baby Arthur, I would understand if this changes things for us.”

Arthur’s fingers gently cupped the back of her head, his other hand holding her close to him. “Darlin’, do you even know me at all?” His voice was raw, filled with an honesty she rarely heard. “I wouldn’t trade this for all the gold in the world. You are my world, you understand?”

She nodded, silent tears slipping down her cheeks, but Arthur was quick to brush them away. He held her even tighter, the two of them a tangled mess of emotions, love, and unspoken promises. “It was a silly thing for me to say. It changes nothing about how I feel for you.”

Kate pulled back slightly, her eyes searching for any trace of doubt, any hint that he was lying. “It’s not silly, honey,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You have every right to want a family. I just… I wish I could give that to you.”

Arthur cupped her face, tilting it gently toward him, his thumb brushing away the final remnants of her tears. “Kate,” he murmured softly, his voice filled with such love, such conviction. “As long as I have you, you will always be my family. And that’s enough for me.”

Their lips found each other once again. With those words, Kate’s fears crumbled away, leaving only the warmth of his embrace and the hope of something better, something real, between them.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

The evening lingered in the air, slow and intoxicating, as they shared a glass of wine that seemed to ignite the desire between them. The fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow on their skin as they sat close, Kate nestled comfortably in Arthur’s lap. The conversation was quiet, intimate—whispers of dreams and playful desires exchanged between soft kisses and lingering touches that spoke louder than words.

When the last drops of wine were finished, Kate set her glass aside, her movements slow and deliberate, feeling the heat of the moment settle deep in her chest. With a quiet, daring smile, she shifted on his lap, straddling him, her body now pressed fully against his. The dress coat and bow tie were long discarded, his shirt now unbuttoned in places, exposing the warm, rugged skin of his chest. The flickering firelight danced across his strong frame, and she couldn’t help but admire him, her heart racing at the sight of him in the dim, intimate glow.

Her hands, delicate and daring, traced the contours of his body with soft, eager strokes, feeling the heat of him beneath her fingertips. The alcohol had loosened her body and mind, a steady warmth pooling between her thighs, and she felt something primal awaken—something bold, something wild. She could feel the heat in her blood, drawn to him like a lioness on the prowl.

Arthur’s hands moved with purpose, fingers grazing her skin in a way that made her shiver. His touch was rough, but gentle in its own way, the calluses of his hands brushing against the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. Each move he made brought him closer to where she needed him, a slow tease that had her heart pounding.

Her chemise slipped lower, revealing the soft, inviting curve of her breast. The air felt cooler against her exposed skin, but it only seemed to heighten the heat between them. Kate’s hands slid over his chest, undoing the rest of his shirt buttons, exposing his skin to her eager touch. She felt the warmth of him, the thick, hard muscle beneath the soft hair that she longed to explore.

Tracing her thumb along the star shaped scar that adorned his shoulder, she leaned down to place her lips upon it. Kissing it with a softness as the memory of his survival washed over her. Her lips moved gracefully along the smooth edge of his collarbone and up towards the sensitive skin of his nick.

As her lips and fingers moved, mapping the lines of his body, she felt him respond—his chest rising in a sharp breath, his hands finding her breasts, his thumbs pressing against her sensitive nipples with a languid, teasing pressure.

She arched into him, the sensation of his hands on her skin causing a soft gasp to escape her lips. She couldn’t help but feel the subtle shift of her hips as she moved against him, the friction between them a delicious ache that made her pulse quicken. His growing need pressed against her, and she could feel it—he was just as consumed by this moment as she was, his body betraying the desire he could no longer hide. Barley constrained by the fabric of his pants.

Kate’s breath came faster, her own hunger rising as she pulled at the fabric of his shirt, desperate to feel him closer, to taste him. Her nails scraped lightly over his skin, feeling the warmth of him beneath the soft layer of hair, her body trembling in anticipation of what came next.

Arthur was lost in her, watching her with a gaze darkened by desire. His hands moved with a steady, confident rhythm, pulling her straps down just enough to reveal her bare shoulders, exposing the last bit of her flesh to the cool night air. His breath hitched, and for a moment, everything around them fell away—there was only her, and the way she made him feel. She was a vision of beauty, of vulnerability, of everything he wanted in this life.

He leaned in, his breath warm and steady against the delicate shell of her ear. “I love you,” he whispered, the words thick with longing, with adoration, and something far deeper than mere desire. His hands tightened around her, pulling her closer, as though he never wanted to let her go.

Arthur’s hands moved over her body with a reverence that sent shivers down her spine. He traced the delicate lines of her shoulders, the curve of her waist, his fingertips gently brushing over the soft skin of her ribs, before returning to frame her face. His eyes locked onto hers, silent and deep, as though asking a question that needed no words. The steady rhythm of their heartbeats pulsed in sync, the air thick with the weight of their connection.

Her lips parted, a soft sigh escaping as she spoke, her voice trembling with desire and something far deeper. "You make me feel safe," she murmured, the raw emotion in her words wrapping around him like a tender, irresistible embrace. Arthur’s heart swelled at the sound of it, a rush of tenderness surging through him.

Without hesitation, his hands moved to the curve of her bottom, the warmth of her body under his palms igniting something primal in him. Gently, he lifted her, his strength cradling her in a way that felt as natural as breathing. "You are safe," he whispered, the words like a promise, low and soothing, as he guided her beneath him, laying her down on the soft elk skin rug, its warmth adding to the heat between them.

Their movements were slow, measured, each one perfectly in tune with the quickening pulse of their bodies. Arthur’s hands slid down to her waist, pulling the silky fabric of her dress with a purposeful ease, sliding it over her body, revealing her bare skin inch by inch. He stopped just above her navel, his fingers tracing soft, rhythmic circles around the sensitive skin, each touch sending a wave of electricity through her that made her breath catch in her throat.

Arthur paused, his eyes drinking her in as if he were memorizing every detail—her flushed skin glowing in the firelight, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, her eyes dark with need and something far more vulnerable. She was a vision—soft and beautiful, filled with both desire and something that made him want to protect her, cherish her.

"You make me feel like I belong," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper, thick with emotion that stole his breath away.

Arthur’s lips hovered over her skin, brushing against the delicate curve beneath her ear, his breath warm against her neck. "You belong with me," he murmured, the words heavy with sincerity and longing. Slowly, he kissed his way down her body, his lips hot against her skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

When he reached her breast, he paused, his mouth closing around her nipple, swirling his tongue gently around the sensitive nub. He pulled and sucked with his mouth, the heat sending shivers through her body. Kate arched beneath him, a soft gasp escaping her as he moved to the other, giving it the same reverence.

As his lips continued their journey lower, tracing the curve of her abdomen, she moaned again, her hands slipping through his hair, holding him closer.

“You make me feel needed,” she breathed, the words mingling with the sensation of his touch, a mix of longing and a deep emotional connection.

Arthur’s response was a kiss, tender but full of heat, just above the hairline between her thighs. His mouth was gentle, teasing, yet filled with a desperation he couldn’t quite hide. "I need you," he growled, his voice low and thick with emotion. He spread her legs, aligning himself with her, the heat of his body sending a rush of anticipation through her.

His hands moved under her thighs, pulling the thin fabric of her chemise off in a swift motion, exposing her completely to him. He lifted her to him as he lowered his head between her legs. The first touch of his mouth against her ignited something wild, a fire that burned brighter with each kiss he gave her. He moved slowly, deliberately, his tongue trailing from her entrance to the sensitive bundle of nerves at her core, each lick sending her spiraling deeper into pleasure.

“Arthur!” A cry of bliss escaped her lips as the intensity of his touch overwhelmed her.

“That’s my good girl,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire. His tongue flicked and circled with purpose, driving her higher, her hips bucking instinctively, thighs trembling beneath his touch. She was lost to him, lost in the pleasure he gave her, her body shaking as she surrendered to him.

Kate’s fingers tangled in Arthur’s dirty blond hair, tugging just hard enough to draw a deep, rumbling groan from him. The sound sent a shiver racing down her spine, heightening the sensation as he pressed two thick fingers inside her, moving with a careful slowness that made her gasp. The heat between them simmered and pulsed, her body yielding to his touch as he felt her walls tighten around him, each flex and flutter fueling his own hunger.

Arthur’s jaw clenched as he struggled to maintain control. The image of being buried deep inside her, feeling that same vice-like grip around his aching length, tempted him to the edge of restraint. The fabric of his pants felt suffocating, he was painfully hard now, hips grinding into the rug looking for any form of release. The throbbing need to be inside her overwhelming.

But he was a patient man, one who relished the art of giving more than receiving. The pride he felt from watching Kate unravel beneath him was more intoxicating than any pleasure he could take for himself. He had made it a silent vow: she would always come first. He would never surrender to his own satisfaction until he had brought her to the brink and watched her fall apart in his hands.

Kate’s breath came in ragged gasps, the room filled with the symphony of her moans and the creamy, rhythmic sound of Arthur’s fingers working inside her. The slickness of her arousal coated his skin, driving him deeper into the moment, each movement more intentional than the last. He lowered his mouth to her once again, tongue teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves that made her arch and cry out. The way she responded, hips lifting to meet the pressure of his mouth, sent a rush of heat coursing through him.

The slow, lewd suck of his lips against her skin resonated through her core, sending her spiraling into waves of bliss that made her thighs tremble uncontrollably. Arthur’s groans mixed with the soft, wet sounds of his ministrations, each one a testament to the pleasure he found in her surrender. His fingers moved in a steady, torturous rhythm, coaxing every drop of her release until she could no longer hold back.

“Fuck! Arthur I’m–!” Kate shattered with a keening cry, her body clenching around him as he hummed against her, savoring every quiver, every pulse of her climax.

“That’s it,” he whispered, voice thick with affection. “Let go, love.” His words washed over her, grounding her as the aftershocks rippled through her.

With a final, lingering kiss pressed to the apex of her thighs, Arthur withdrew his fingers and looked up, eyes dark and heavy with longing. But there was no rush in the way he studied her, only a deep satisfaction that came from seeing her utterly spent, flushed and glowing in the aftermath.

Panting softly, Kate struggled to sit up, the desire in her voice trembling. “Arthur,” she whispered, the sound cracking with raw need. “Please… I need you.”

He steadied her as her legs wobbled beneath her, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear with a tenderness that belied the intensity between them. Her nimble fingers found their way to the rigid evidence of his desire, undoing the button and zipper with practiced urgency. Arthur’s body quaked as she pushed the fabric down, her palm gliding over his length, slick with anticipation. The touch awakened a fire in both of them—a shared ache that transcended the physical.

Before Kate could wrap her fingers around him, Arthur caught her wrist, his voice a husky murmur. “Easy, sweetheart.” With strength that left her breathless, he scooped her up, one arm under her back and the other beneath her knees, lifting her as if she were the most precious thing he’d ever held. “Let me take you to bed, hmm?”

In one fluid motion, he kicked off the remnants of his clothing and carried her to the bed, laying her down on the soft, inviting covers. The firelight cast a golden glow over their entwined forms, painting them in warmth and shadow. Arthur hovered above her, his eyes roaming over her with reverence, his breaths heavy and controlled. But as he braced himself, she caught the subtle wince that flickered across his features—the injured shoulder still bearing the strain of his body.

“C’mere, baby,” she whispered, coaxing him to shift his weight, guiding his arm beneath the pillows. He sank closer, their faces inches apart, his breath hot and uneven against her neck. She gasped as she felt him at her entrance, the teasing pressure sparking electric pulses that made her body tremble.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, so softly it was barely audible, his voice lined with a vulnerability that pierced through the haze. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

The tremor in his body told her this was more than a question. It was a plea, an unspoken need for reassurance—for a promise that this connection was real, that he wasn’t caught in a moment that would fade into the darkness that haunted him.

Her hands found his face, fingers tracing the strong jaw, eyes meeting his gaze and holding it. In that moment, she saw every shadow, every battle fought in silence, every wound that hadn’t fully healed.

To truly love someone is to understand their suffering.

“Yes, Arthur,” she replied, her voice steady and clear, overflowing with emotion. “I want you. I’ll say it a hundred times, until there’s no doubt left in you. Until you know, beyond everything, that I choose you.”

The tension between them shattered like a wave crashing on the shore, and Arthur captured her lips with a kiss that carried the weight of his devotion, longing, and love. It was fierce, raw, and tender all at once, a culmination of emotions unspoken but deeply understood. Kate’s fingers slid between their bodies, finding him with an assured touch. A shiver coursed down Arthur’s spine as she stroked him, trailing down the length of his shaft until her palm cupped the sensitive, heavy flesh that hung beneath. A gentle squeeze and a slow tug pulled a guttural sound from deep in his chest. His arousal beaded and dripped onto her skin, warm and slick.

A low, husky grunt escaped him, and he trembled, unable to hold back the faint whimper that broke free as she guided him along her folds. The wet heat of her need coated his length, preparing him in a silent invitation. The size of him dwarfed her delicate touch; she knew there would be a sharp ache when he entered, but she welcomed it, craving the connection more than anything.

“Kate,” Arthur’s voice was a ragged plea against her neck, the tension in his body evident as he held himself back, quivering with the effort.

“Look at me,” she whispered, her voice low and tender, guiding his face up so their eyes met. Her hands slipped around his neck, legs winding around his hips as she surrendered herself to him. She could see the war waged within him—the constant battle between the rough, unforgiving man he feared he was and the tender lover he had always been with her.

“I love you, Arthur,” she breathed, the words soft and steady. “You could never hurt me.” With a slight arch of her hips, she felt the initial burn as his head pressed into her. The stretch was sharp, searing through her like a white flame, but she focused on the way his expression contorted in unguarded bliss, blue eyes wide with reverence as he pushed deeper.

Arthur’s gaze held hers, searching for any sign of discomfort, even as he sank into her inch by inch. The moment he bottomed out, pressing into the deepest part of her, he released a shuddering breath and pressed a kiss to her temple, the salty tang of sweat mingling with their heat. Kate’s body adjusted slowly, every shift and flex sending electric pulses through them both. She clenched around him instinctively, drawing a groan from his lips as she carved out space for him within her.

“Give it to me,” she whispered, the words a plea and a promise.

A flash of understanding passed between them, and Arthur’s control snapped. He drew back, the friction leaving them both gasping, only to thrust forward until their bodies met again. Each movement carried the force of his need, the desperation of years of loneliness and longing released with every roll of his hips. The rhythm built, urgent and unrelenting, as he claimed her with an intensity that spoke of both passion and fear—fear that she would slip away, fear that he would never find this again.

Kate’s breath came in broken whimpers, the sharp bite of her nails digging into the taut muscles of his shoulders as the pain turned to pleasure, radiating through her in waves. Every thrust filled her, completed her, as if she had been a puzzle with a missing piece, and Arthur was the one who made her whole.

The room pulsed with the rhythm of their desire, each creak of the bed merging with soft gasps and whispered confessions. Arthur’s deep, guttural groan resonated as he rolled his hips with a deliberate slowness, each thrust intentional and unrelenting. He moved with the confidence of a man who knew exactly how to drive her to the brink, his body a perfect match for hers as it instinctively responded, drawing him in deeper with every movement.

The friction, intense and electric, left Kate gasping, her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling tight as a tremor ran down her spine. “Just like that,” she panted, her voice breaking with urgency. “Fuck, Arthur! Right there!” The echo of her cries filled the dimly lit room, unbridled and careless of the late hour.

A wicked grin played on Arthur’s lips as he watched her writhe beneath him, the pleasure building in waves as he learned the intricacies of her body. “That’s it, baby girl,” he murmured, the low timbre of his voice vibrating against her skin. “Tell me what you want. I’ve got you.”

Each deep stroke sent a jolt of heat through her, the slick sound of her arousal coating him and amplifying their connection. He angled his hips to brush that sensitive spot just inside her, pulling out until only the tip remained before sinking back in with precision, the coarse hair at the base of his cock damp with her need.

Lowering himself to her chest, he captured a hardened nipple between his lips, flicking his tongue in deliberate circles before sucking it into his mouth. The sharp pleasure had her gasping, her body clenching around him, and he couldn’t help but revel in her reactions.

He marked her with love bites, small purple reminders that she was his, that they were here, lost in each other. One of his hands found its way down, his thumb circling the swollen bead between her thighs, adding a new, dizzying layer of sensation.

“Oh god,” Kate’s voice broke, her legs trembling, body on the cusp of surrender. “I’m close,” she whimpered, eyes glassy and unfocused as tears welled up, the overwhelming mix of pleasure and emotion coloring her cheeks a deep rose.

Arthur’s pace faltered, fighting the tide of his own release as he focused on her, determined to feel her shatter around him first. “Just a little more, baby,” he whispered, his breath hot against her neck, each word a promise.

Breathing ragged and full of intent, Arthur kept his focus on her pleasure, dragging his hips along the sensitive spot that made her gasp and shudder. His movements were precise, quick, and shallow, sending waves of heat coursing through her. Her body responded in kind, trembling, and slick against him, soaking the sheets beneath them. He could feel the tension within her, the way she fought to hold back the tide, and it only fueled his own urgent need.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he whispered, “let me feel you.” The words breaking on a pant as he pressed his face into the crook of her neck. His voice was rough, tinged with desperation. Every ounce of his focus honed in on her, driven by the singular purpose of bringing her the kind of pleasure that would mark this moment as unforgettable.

As if his words had unlocked her restraint, she tightened around him, the sudden pressure tearing a raw, guttural sound from his throat. Kate's vision blurred, a white-hot rush overtaking her as she surrendered to the sensation. Her climax surged through her, making her body quake uncontrollably, her breath coming in gasps as she called out his name, voice breaking with the intensity.

Arthur's control slipped as he spilled into her, the pulse of his release matched by the rhythmic spasms of her body. A low groan turned into a softer, vulnerable whimper as he buried himself as deep as possible, letting the warmth spread between them. He pressed tender kisses to the corner of her eyes, catching the tears that trailed down her flushed cheeks.

They laid together for a moment, sharing breath and messy kisses. Drunk on their love, they lay connected, limbs tangled and whispered affections. Even as their bodies still hummed with the aftershocks, Arthur’s hand slid down between her thighs. She tensed, the oversensitivity sparking a startled cry.

“Oh Arthur,” she breathed, “it’s too much,” her voice breaking as tremors began to seize her limbs.

“Just one more, my love,” he coaxed, his tone a soothing murmur.

He sat up slightly, allowing himself a clearer view of her, eyes heavy with desire and affection. He watched as her wide eyes met his, glazed and vulnerable. Her lips parted in a silent plea, new tears streaking down her face as she teetered on the edge once more.

He pressed a firm thumb against the sensitive pearl at her center, the light pressure enough to send another surge of sensation through her.

“That’s it, my good girl,” he whispered, the admiration clear in his voice. The sight of her unraveling beneath him, of her body responding so completely, made his chest ache with reverence.

Her body tightened around him again, a series of frantic pulses as her second climax took hold. She clutched his arms, nails digging into his skin leaving crescents as she bucked. Her breath caught in her throat. Legs shaking from the force of her pleasure. The coiled tension snapped, and she came apart, her hoarse cry tearing through the room.

Arthur!

“I’ve got you, baby,” Arthur reassured, his hands gliding up her trembling thighs before cupping her face. She turned into his touch, eyes fluttering closed as she wrapped herself in him, a soft moan of bliss escaping her.

Pressing his lips to her damp brow, his own heart pounding with the intensity of their connection. The hard drumming in his ears harmonized with the melody of her labored breath, every beat and gasp composing a harmony. His name on her lips, breathing him to life. It was a song he longed for. It sounded like love.

My girl.

AN: I was low-key so nervous to post this, I've never officially written and posted an intimate scene. I'm tempted to come back to this in the future and edit it, but I must resist. And I must focus on other chapters now. I have so much planned, and I'm fighting this writers block tooth and nail. I'm speaking it into the universe that my mojo will come back.

Bonus pics of my new kitten:

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #ao3 fanfic #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x original female character #arthur morgan x reader #red dead fandom #arthur morgan x oc

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genshinnrambles · 1 year ago

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[3.8] Technology as a False God: On "Evolution," the Duality of Machines, Replication, and Wisdom

“To recognize untruth as a condition of life: that is certainly to impugn the traditional ideas of value in a dangerous manner, and a philosophy which ventures to do so, has thereby alone placed itself beyond good and evil.” –Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil

Before we move on to the nation of justice, I want to do one last inquiry into the narrative significance of machines and technology in Genshin’s 3.x patch cycle. Here, I’ll discuss how divinity (or “godhood”) and technology are treated as interchangeable tools to surpass fate and the boundaries of mortality, the potential problems with treating them this way, and propose an alternative relationship between humanity and technology as illustrated through Karkata, Benben, Tamimi, and Mehrak. By foregrounding machines, we learn something intriguing about ourselves and the “truth” of this world as we perceive it.

SPOILERS: All Sumeru Archon Quests, Caribert, the Golden Slumber and one out-of-context screenshot from Dual Evidence, the Dirge of Bilqis and its post-quests, Khvarena of Good and Evil, Nahida’s second Story Quest, Faruzan’s hangout, an out-of-context screenshot from Baizhu’s Story Quest, and major spoilers for Persona 5 strikers at the end. Also some dialogue from Shadows Amidst Snowstorms and A Parade of Providence, two limited-time events from 2.3 and 3.6 respectively.

Disclaimer: I have tried my best to write this post so that it stands on its own, but because it is still a sequel it will probably make the most sense with the context of part 1. Here are the previous posts leading up to this one:

Part 0: On Dreams, the Abyss, Forbidden Knowledge, and Wish Fulfillment

Part 1: The Uncanny, Fate and the Machine

Terminology: Machine is sometimes used interchangeably with “technology” in this post.

Technology or tool here is referring to technologies specifically used to pursue a wish like immortality in the face of existential dread, not the use of technology or medicine (which I do not address here, and is very difficult to separate from the former) to facilitate someone’s life who could otherwise not survive without that technology, or would have a more painful lived experience without it.

Also, though I don’t engage directly with “A Cyborg Manifesto” here, Donna Haraway’s ideas have greatly influenced my own over the years since I read her in college (although I mostly disagree with her on many points, or at least don’t go as far in boundary deconstruction as she does). I owe my interest in technology studies to her and that piece. Her essay is linked here and at the bottom if you would like to read it.

(and finally with many, many, many thanks to my boyfriend for multiple beta reads despite not having played a single Hoyoverse game, helping me work out the philosophy bits and contextualizing them in history, and encouraging me to finish this)

TL;DR: Machines are friends, not food!

No Matter the Cost

“...Perhaps it is as the notebook says, and we can find a power that transcends even that of the Abyss — the power of ‘evolution’...” -Records of Unknown Attribution (I) “Life, death... and the world around us all follow a set of laws... Hehe, but if you never test the limits, how can anyone know where the boundaries of these laws are?” -Baizhu Voicelines, Chat: Natural Laws “...Even the ominous thing that came down from the heavens shall be ours to use…” -Hyglacg, Shadowy Husk in the Chasm

Without a doubt, the star of this patch cycle is Khaenri’ah, which lurked in subtext and allegory in the Archon Quest, haunted Sumeru’s landscape with its massive defunct Ruin Golems, and finally smacked us in the face with its physical location in Khvarena of Good and Evil..

We already know that Khaenri’ah was a nation that put its faith not in the gods but rather in human ingenuity and technology, and that they ultimately attained a power so great that they “almost touched the dome of the firmament.” They did this by researching increasingly dangerous energy sources for their numerous mechanical creations, the Ruin Machines we are all too familiar with by now. They started out with Azosite, a Ley Line-based elemental energy source that powered their earliest Ruin Guard models, like those scattered around Devantaka Mountain.

Nasejuna: This giant furnace is used to make a substance known as Azosite. It is the core of this entire factory, and the Energy Blocks we saw earlier were derived from this place.

But this energy source proved inefficient and therefore inadequate for Khaenri’ah’s goals, which led them to seek a higher power from beyond the skies that could fuel their larger machines with perpetual energy. This likely is the bridge between Khaenri’ah’s fate and Chlothar’s mysterious remarks in Caribert about the Abyss Sibling:

Chlothar: We once believed that you would bring new strength and hope to Khaenri'ah. Chlothar: To us, you were the Abyss... A wondrous mystery far beyond our imagination and comprehension... Chlothar: ...And the one who controls the Abyss can control everything! Chlothar: We yearned for that future. We looked to you to take us there. Chlothar: But what did you bring us instead?

Though Khaenri’ah presents itself proudly as a godless nation, it may have been founded around the time when the celestial nails dropped in Teyvat’s first forbidden knowledge pollution event, which destroyed the unified human civilization. As potential survivors of this devastating act by the Primordial One, Khaenri’ahns then settled in a lifeless land without plants or animals of its own, and they hoped to build something there that belonged solely to humanity. The Heavenly Principles had turned on the world’s earliest humans, and they were powerless against them. Chlothar’s words betray the scars of this trauma on Khaenri’ah, as well as their desperation to control their fate by looking to the Abyss.

As a brief refresher from the previous part, we discussed how the German word heimlich denotes “the home,” all that is familiar and known, while unheimlich (uncanny) refers to all that is unfamiliar and external to the home, such as the wilderness. The Abyss sibling and the Traveler are external variables to Teyvat, making them otherworldly, unfamiliar entities full of potential to surpass Teyvat’s natural laws. Although the Abyss sibling is not a god per se, they were probably as close to a god as Khaenri’ah ever had, because to them the sibling embodied the higher power they were searching for, and they saw that “godliness,” a sort of functional divinity, was yet another technology for them to master. In this way, the Abyss sibling (and their functional divinity) was a powerful tool for Khaenri’ah’s desired end, the “future they yearned for,” a being who could deliver them to the end of their suffering under the Heavenly Principles.

It’s similar to what King Deshret represented to Rahman and the radicals in Archon Quest. The hopelessness of Sumeru’s situation before the Archon Quest’s conclusion is an allegory for the position humanity finds itself in under the rule of the Heavenly Principles, with the Akademiya symbolizing Celestia and the desert dwellers symbolizing Khaenri’ah. The material consequences of the Akademiya’s rule on their lives created a dangerous situation for the desert, and those most desperate to change their fate were willing to believe in the impossible:

Dehya: …The rougher life gets, the more they wanna believe in King Deshret. Way they see it, King Deshret’s resurrection is their only chance at overthrowing the Akademiya. … Dehya: Sumeru is run by wise and mighty sages. To them, us desert dwellers are nothing but tools that can be used and discarded at their whim. Dehya: We’re cheap labor. Like livestock, but easier to control…Nothing more. …

Rahman: We’ve waited a long time for this day to come… The sun and the moon no longer shine here. All you see now is cracks in this desiccated land. But, fate has finally dealt me a hand to play against the Akademiya.

Rahman: With these scholars in our custody, we’ll stomp the Akademiya’s forces and fight our way beyond the Wall of Samiel.

Like the Abyss sibling, Deshret’s divinity is both a nebulous symbol of hope and also the means to an end, a tool or “technology” for surpassing fate.

Celestia is untouchable, unconcerned with mortal lives, and the boundaries that govern humanity leave no room for them to negotiate their rule:

"Resolve, valor, love, hate...they will all twist in the river of time. But the 'rules' will never change." –Magatsu Mitake Narukami no Mikoto, Living Beings

Instead of bowing to Teyvat’s laws, Khaenri’ah pushed them to their limits. The cost of their failure spelled the end of their nation as they knew it, polluting Khaenri’ah and Teyvat with forbidden knowledge again.

And speaking of forbidden knowledge pollution, let’s talk about Apep’s role in Nahida’s second story quest, because if all that wasn’t enough, the metaphor becomes quite literal in Apep’s case. Nahida’s second story quest is many things, all of which will be extremely important in Fontaine when we deal more directly with the idea of forms, the Self, and mirror images, but its most useful application to both Sumeru’s story and the overarching main story is the allegory of Apep swallowing Deshret.

In exchange for allowing him to establish his kingdom in the desert, Deshret promised to pass all of the knowledge he learned to Apep once he died. When that day did come, Apep literally ate Deshret’s body in order to assimilate his knowledge (or memories) into its body. Little did Apep know, this was all Just As Deshret Planned, and its body became a containment zone for the lethal forbidden knowledge he accumulated after the Goddess of Flowers’ death.

Apep’s goal was, and still is, to overthrow the Heavenly Principles that took Teyvat from it and the other Sovereign dragons, and using Deshret’s knowledge was yet another stepping stone to achieving this goal. Seems a little similar to Khaenri’ah, right? It’s even in the title of its boss music: “God-Devouring Mania.” This idea of not just utilizing divinity as a tool, but also metaphorically consuming it as an energy source, like a predator would consume its prey, is crucial to understanding its purpose as an aid in a larger project of “evolution.” (Edit: in other words, it’s all about power).

Drink Not That Bitter Salt Water

“Flesh decays, and with it decay all martial arts mastery and all poignant memories. Perhaps only by converting one’s four limbs and body into sturdy mechanical parts, and by at last sacrificing one’s very own heart for a sophisticated mechanical one, can one transcend the impermanence of the fleshly form…” -Marionette Core Item Description “A reptile that has mutated after feeding from greater lifeforms. Majestic beasts are sometimes revered by human beings as the embodiment of a greater power, their visages turned to analogy to feed in reference to a person, feeding their ego. However, the majority of beasts that have absorbed the "greater power" were slain by the overwhelming nature of the power itself. Only a few among their number evolved new forms.” -Consecrated Horned Crocodile, Living Beings Video still from WoW Quests

As it turns out, the relationship between divinity and technology to humanity is not just unidirectional, but interchangeable. Let me show you what I mean.

In the Golden Slumber world quest, the Traveler wanders through the ruins of King Deshret’s civilization in search of a novel area of research for Tirzad’s paper with Jebrael and Jeht, two members of Tirzad’s hired investigation team. In the depths of King Deshret’s mausoleum, they stumble upon Samail, who is collaborating with the Fatui to locate King Deshret’s secret, the Golden Slumber.

At the conclusion, Jebrael and Samail actually reach that “place” after arriving at Deshret’s throne in Khaj-Nisut. In order to save Jeht, Tirzad, and the Traveler from the encroaching Golden Dream, Jebrael joins Samail in the sea of consciousness:

Jebrael: I'm inside... the Golden Slumber promised by Al-Ahmar? Samail: Oh... You are not "us" yet. Samail: ...It's fine. Soon, there'll be no "you." "You" will become a part of "us." This meaningless talk will be unnecessary then. … Samail: You should obey. Al-Ahmar's will is our will. The Thutmose's dreams are our dreams. Jebrael: No! Ufairah taught me that I'm not just some part of you, I'm an independent person! I have my own dreams... I won't go back! Samail: Jebrael, why don't you understand? Love is just a fever. I even eliminated the infection for you. Has the heat made you lose your mind? Jebrael: You're the one who's lost their mind, Samail, not me. The Golden Slumber that Al-Ahmar promised us isn't like this... It's not a sad place with only "we" and no "I." Samail: I'm not sad. I know what I want. My dream is to be one with the Thutmose. Samail: Yet you, the warmth of another... I despise such feelings. It makes you weak. Video still from WoW Quests

When they worked under Babel, Jebrael saved Samail from an assassin Babel sent in their exploration of Gurabad. Classified as traitors of the Tanit, Samail and Jebrael then founded the Thutmose Eremite faction together and were the only meaningful connection each other had until their first attempt to uncover Deshret’s secrets. On this expedition, Jebrael met Ufairah and had their daughter Jeht together, further pulling him away from the Thutmose and from Samail. Samail then kills Ufairah in one final attempt to make Jebrael stay, but even this is not enough, and Samail fails to “possess” him in the end.

Samail’s loneliness and despair then drove him further toward the Golden Slumber of his dreams, where he would never truly be alone again. He resents Jebrael’s attachments to the material world and likens them to an illness because these attachments are what make him an individual and prevent him from returning “home.”

It doesn’t really matter to Samail what King Deshret’s original intent for the Golden Slumber was, because he needed to appropriate the project for his own subconscious wish, his own intent to transcend his flesh and become “one” with his departed god’s dream, indeed to merge with Deshret himself. If rationalizing this wish required confounding it with Deshret’s, so be it. With the Golden Slumber’s technology, he could consume everyone and everything.

Rahman and the radicals relied on both the technology that (falsely) promised Deshret’s resurrection and Deshret himself to deliver them a brighter future, but here Deshret and his technology are more difficult to separate from one another. His divinity is technology in this sense, and using that technology allowed Samail to surpass the boundaries normally imposed on mortals. Though his and Jebrael’s bodies died in the material world, their consciousness is now infinite in the Golden Slumber.

Babel’s motives in the Dirge of Bilqis were also quite similar to Samail’s. After opening the path to the Eternal Oasis, her true intentions to monopolize the oasis and overthrow the Akademiya came to the surface:

Babel: Whether she is alive or dead, whether she can or cannot be resurrected... As long as the Eternal Oasis is under my control, all such things will be mine to decide. Babel: I shall be the sole Prophetess of the slumbering goddess, the Tanit's law shall be divine edict, and the prosperity of the Tanit shall be the pre-ordinance of her divine oracles.

In the Golden Slumber and the Dirge of Bilqis, the focus shifts from what a god can offer humanity to what their technology alone can offer. Though this distinction is subtle, it is important for solidifying that technology is not only a tool humans use to appropriate divinity, but that it is also seen as a form of divinity itself. What Babel and Samail hope for is not to resurrect a god or to create one, but in effect to become a god through their use of technology. To humanity, divinity is a technology, and in technology it sees divinity.

God Devouring and Rheingold* Gathering

“An arthropod that has mutated after feeding from greater lifeforms. Lifeforms are governed by the laws of evolution, Consecrated Beasts exploited these rules by being fortunate enough to discover a long-dead carcass of a greater being before any of their competition ever did. Animals and humans often have far more in common than the latter is willing to acknowledge.” -Consecrated Scorpion, Living Beings “...Zandik and I discussed the traits of local plants and animals. We also exchanged views on their evolution models. We had a great time and decided to go on a picnic tonight…” -Sohreh’s Note

So, why machines? Why is technology the vehicle of choice to consume divinity?

To start off, machines present a fascinating ontological dilemma for humans. Let’s begin with the first problem they pose.

Although there are many ways to embody a human experience, what all humans have in common is a finite lifespan. The impermanence of life, and our awareness of that impermanence, is central to the existential question of the meaning of our existence. In our attempts to locate that meaning, some turned inward and asked: what makes humans different? And Cartesian dualism answered: humans are different because we have an immaterial soul that allows us to reason.

However, in L’Homme Machine (Man a Machine), French materialist and ex-physician Julien Offray de La Mettrie posited another theory of the body that ran counter to this narrative. Very generally speaking, materialism is the philosophical view that all phenomena are a result of matter and material interactions. To materialists, matter is the fundamental nature of reality itself – if it is not composed of matter, it doesn’t exist. He not only saw the body and soul as one and the same (what philosophers call monism), but also as analogous to a machine, a view that Descartes reserved only for non-human animals. In other words, Descartes argued that thought originates in an immaterial “mind,” while de La Mettrie reasoned that we think through our bodies, and that this makes us no different from other animals or a machine.

Though his examples weren’t especially scientific, the move to extend Descartes’ analogy back to humans is upsetting to some due to the lack of privilege it affords the human subject. If a human is no different from other animals, if there is no immaterial soul or “mind” that distinguishes us from them, then what makes humans special at all? In de La Mettrie’s words:

“We are veritable moles in the field of nature; we achieve little more than the mole’s journey and it is our pride which prescribes limits to the limitless. We are in the position of a watch that should say (a writer of fables would make the watch a hero in a silly tale): ‘I was never made by that fool of a workman, I who divide time, who mark so exactly the course of the sun, who repeat aloud the hours which I mark! No! that is impossible!’ In the same way, we disdain, ungrateful wretches that we are, this common mother of all kingdoms, as the chemists say. We imagine, or rather we infer, a cause superior to that to which we owe all, and which truly has wrought all things in an inconceivable fashion (de La Mettrie, 146).”

This “uniformity of nature” (de La Mettrie, 145) has a horrific quality to humans. We assert that we are better than what has created us, that we are superior to other animals, in order to repress the despair of a meaningless existence. It is in no small part what motivates Scaramouche to offer his mechanical body as a test subject in the god creation project, so that he too could attain his destiny:

The Balladeer: But you're wrong. I'm different from all of you. The Balladeer: I was born to become a god. My entire life up until this point has just been a meaningless routine. The Balladeer: Just think about a sheet of paper... By itself, it holds no meaning. The content recorded on it is what gives it value. The Balladeer: All "I" had recorded down before were some painful memories and boring human feelings. Such senseless drivel should have been erased a long time ago.

This brings us to the second problem. In 1970, roboticist Masahiro Mori proposed a curve to measure the “affinity” we feel while gazing upon increasingly humanoid machines. He placed industrial robots at the beginning of the affinity curve and a healthy person at the end to demarcate a continuum of similarity between the machine and a human’s appearance. Near the end of the curve, our affinity for machines suddenly drops into an abyss. This drop is the Uncanny Valley effect, where an android’s similarity to a human is almost perfect, but ultimately fails to maintain the illusion that it is not a machine, creating a deep discomfort or “lack of affinity” for them. Mori thought these not-quite-human machines elicit a similar level of discomfort in us as corpses and zombies, which he placed at the very bottom of the abyss.

The uncanny Goddess of Flowers in the Dirge of Bilqis

Corpses frighten us because they are dead, and zombies frighten us because we know that dead things are supposed to be still. If we see something that we interpret as “dead” is capable of independent movement, then that movement could only be an act of god, if that “thing” is not a god itself. We associate uncanny machines with death because they remind us of something we once knew intimately, but have repressed and forgotten in order to maintain our own sanity: the very fact of our mortality. This is what makes them both mesmerizing and terrifying.

And therein lies the dilemma: as our mechanical reflections, androids remind us of death, but as their creators, their existence brings us closer to god, a “proof” of human superiority. It is precisely because we have compared our bodies to machines at all, that we have mechanized the body so thoroughly, that an android can even be built. Through them, we pursue an infinite form:

Azar: Creating a god... Yes, we are using human wisdom to create a god! Azar: If humanity cannot attain omniscience and omnipotence, then we shall create a god to reveal them! This is the pinnacle of human wisdom. Azar: We shall regain a god's guidance at long last. No longer will we flounder in the interminable void of consciousness and knowledge. Azar: Even Irminsul will be freed from its plight. Azar: For our nation of scholars, this is the ultimate aspiration — no cost is too great to realize it.

Because of this, it is not surprising in the slightest that Shouki no Kami, the pinnacle of Scaramouche’s Shinjification and most overt reference to Neon Genesis Evangelion, is also an android-like being, a truly “mechanical god.”

Of course, no foray into this well-worn science fiction trope is complete without at least one mad scientist character. Dottore shares a few characteristics with de La Mettrie that are worth noting: they are both doctors, and they were both condemned and driven away for their research. However, Dottore’s defining trait and key difference from de La Mettrie is his flagrant disregard for humans and the boundaries of life:

“If we put them to good use, cognition, complex memories, and irrational fantasies shall become controllable variables with which we can alter human individuals. As for the controllable dream, it has huge potential for both civil and military applications, and might even elevate human intelligence to a whole new level. If the plan goes well, mankind will obtain the power to conquer both reality and dream, and truly transcend the earthly boundaries we are born with. ” -Ragged Records

As someone who has achieved self-duplication and is capable of shapeshifting, Dottore can hardly be considered just a human anymore. Instead of entertaining the question of whether or not humans are special, Dottore’s research asks yet another: if divinity can be consumed and assimilated by humanity, then what makes gods special?

Empyrean Reflections

“If man realizes technology is in reach, he achieves it. Like it’s damn near instinctive.” -Motoko Kusanagi, Ghost in the Shell (1996) “Among the lost ancient kingdoms, there was a group of people who were obsessed with the idea of mimesis…these people believed that they might all be replicated and modified to the point where they had surpassed their counterparts. By this means, a superior and unsullied bodily form could replace the continuously decaying and shattering order.” -Chaos Bolt Item Description

The consequences of this perspective are severe. When we revere technology as if it were a divine being itself, depersonalizing it as though it wasn’t created with human hands, technology then appears as if it is an authoritative source of truth, like the Akasha. But in the same way that androids are imperfect reflections of humans, technology can only ever approach the divine, but never touch it. It is an imperfect reflection because technology is changeable, just like meaning:

Nahida: Put it this way instead. Truth, to me, is like a shroomboar. Nahida: Some people only see the mushroom on the Shroomboar's back, and they conclude that a Shroomboar is a mushroom. Nahida: Others see only the Shroomboar's body, and they declare that a Shroomboar is a boar. Nahida: Still others look deeper inside, and determine that a Shroomboar is... meat. Nahida: These conclusions are all correct in their own way, but none of them objectively describe the Shroomboar. … Nahida: The world is the same way. No one, not even I included, can understand it in its entirety. All of us are somewhere on the path toward truth.

Meaning can only approximate truth, and while this doesn’t make meaning any less important, it’s equally important to recognize it for what it is: a perspective, an interpretation. It’s like Scaramouche as Shouki no Kami - he was an amalgamation of what Scaramouche thought constituted a god, what the Akademiya thought constituted a god, and what Dottore thought constituted a god, but no matter which angle you view him from, he was still a “false god.” The technology we build in “God's” image is ultimately a reflection of our own understanding of divinity.

A reflection retains the original’s “essence,” and that essence reflects a deeper truth about ourselves, what drives us, and our desires. In Beyond Good and Evil, Nietzsche posits that our desires are the origin of not just emotions, but of all organic processes that allow life to sustain itself and grow (Nietzsche, 35). In other words, Nietzsche thought the impulses associated with desire are the basis for life and constitute our “will,” that will is the causality of all effects, that all will is “Will to Power,” and that Will to Power is the “essence” of the world (Nietzsche, 74). Will to Power then serves as an organism’s most basic instinct, and it is through this instinct that they assert not just their will to live, but also their will to dominate and multiply (Nietzche, 13).

This brings us to the two different main styles of automaton enemies, King Deshret’s Primal Constructs and Khaenri’ah’s Ruin Machines. If we look at them as reflections of some deeper truth about their creators, as well as a manifestation of their creator’s “Will to Power,” or desires, they can help us understand how their creators saw the world and their place in it.

King Deshret’s created his machines to construct an earthly paradise in the desert, and as such they hold titles like architect reshaper and prospector. Although they can attack you, the smaller machines were not intended to be a line of defense in any way - their purpose, just as Deshret saw his own purpose as a god-king, was to terraform, or at least construct a domain on the land as he saw fit to his “elegant and precise” rules. They also reflect how he saw the Heavenly Principles: gods who shaped the world to their liking. This can be seen in the Staff of the Scarlet Sands’ lore where Deshret describes the “natural history” of Teyvat beginning with the creation of the sun and the moons.

As for Khaenri’ah’s Ruin Machines, their models vary significantly from their humanoid to biomimetic forms, but most of them are expressly created with militaristic intent. In “Ancient Kingdom Guardians,” it’s stated that the biomimetic machines such as the crab and jellyfish were a part of Khaenri’ah’s project to create a “mechanical ecosystem,” positioning their creators as both divine beings and military generals. The humanoid models, on the other hand, point to another duality in how Khaenri’ahns view themselves. They are simultaneously symbols of empowerment and disempowerment, signifying both Khaenri’ah’s technological superiority (as “creators”), and their insignificance to the Heavenly Principles as nothing but tools (as mortals, and therefore expendable). As a result, Khaenri’ah’s Field Tillers have a single purpose: to destroy and outlast all, clearing the way for new seeds to sprout, with Khaenri’ah as the new world’s gardeners, just as the Heavenly Principles did.

From “Ancient Kingdom Guardians: Behind the Scenes of the Creation of Ruin Monsters.”

So, from this examination of Deshret’s and Khaenri’ah’s mechanical reflections, what “truths” do we learn about the world they’re responding to? In response to their existential despair, both Deshret and Khaenri’ah created automatons to perform tasks that could wrestle control back from the Heavenly Principles. Deshret wanted a paradise of his own making, Khaenri’ah wanted an army. There is a larger “truth” about Teyvat that both of these automaton types reflect as the manifestation of their creators’ “Will to Power,” and Albedo tellingly expressed it in mechanistic language during Shadows Amidst Snowstorms: there is an instinct in living beings to replicate and replace. This is what is meant by the “continuously decaying and shattering order,” which is maintained by the recursive process of remembering and forgetting:

Amber: But... what was its purpose? Was it just trying to get rid of us? Albedo: ... Albedo: I have a preliminary hypothesis on this. Albedo: Whopperflowers are masters of mimicry, and those we encounter in the wild often appear in the vicinity of the plants they impersonate. Albedo: In other words, the whopperflower likely has an instinct to "replicate and replace." Albedo: As a plant, it will disguise itself as another plant and infiltrate the group, hiding among them for cover. The plant being imitated has no way to detect or fight back against this behavior.

Maybe I’m wrong and Khaenri’ah really did intend to rewrite fate for all, doing away with the “heavenly order” of the world itself. But another small part of me thinks this is not the case, and that it’s more likely the Cataclysm was a consequence of their failure to replicate and replace the Heavenly Principles.

In the last section, I mentioned that Dottore and de La Mettrie had a key difference despite their similarities, and that is the conclusion they each came to in response to their findings. Dottore’s response to mundanity is thinly-veiled despair. His contempt for humanity and his test subjects is indicative of the powerlessness he feels not just as someone similarly constrained by life’s boundaries (at least, once upon a time), but also because his attention to and curiosity about these boundaries is condemned by those around him. As the Akademiya’s “outcast,” he then fully turned his attention toward surpassing those boundaries:

Nahida: There once was a lone monster draped in fox fur. The monster found a family of foxes, joined them, and they became friends. The monster lived with the family, day and night, and everyone treated it as one of their own. Once in a while, the monster would take off its fox fur at night, and lament to itself as it gazed at its reflection in the water: “I am a monstrosity, and yet they are too foolish to see it…I pity them.”

Though he is fictional, Dottore’s real life counterparts are easy to spot. They like to talk about “the singularity,” simulating consciousness on a computer, and other technologically-driven pursuits of immortality. They despise the body as something that can only decay, and instead place their faith squarely in the virtual.

However, de La Mettrie didn’t think mundanity was a terrible fate for humanity. To him, rejecting the “nature” reflected in us is precisely what brings despair:

“What more do we know of our destiny than of our origin? Let us then submit to an invincible ignorance on which our happiness depends. He who so thinks will be wise, just, tranquil about his fate, and therefore happy. He will await death without either fear or desire, and will cherish life (hardly understanding how disgust can corrupt a heart in this place of many delights); he will be filled with reverence, gratitude, affection, and tenderness for nature, in proportion to his feeling of the benefits he has received from nature; he will be happy, in short, in feeling nature, and in being present at the enchanting spectacle of the universe, and he will surely never destroy nature either in himself or in others” (de La Mettrie, 148).

Friend, or Foe? Or Both?

Tighnari: All life brought forth in this world has meaning, and Karkata is no exception. If it exists, then it shouldn’t be carelessly abandoned or destroyed. "’I had a very, very long dream…in it, people were holding hands, dancing in a circle, be they sages or fools, dancers or warriors, puppets or statues of gods…that dancing circle embodied everything about the universe. Life has always been the end, while it is wisdom that shall be the means.’" —Nagadus Emerald Gemstone Description

As we’ve seen, the relationship between humanity and technology is troubled with exploitation and the specter of war. Nearly all autonomous machines in this game were designed to conquer nature in some way, and even Khaenri’ah’s “ghost” lingers in the form of wandering war machines. This is also reflective of a historical pattern in real life, where the impetus for large periods of technological development has often been for the purpose of war and economic domination. With these truths in mind, what could be gained from trying to rewrite this relationship? And what exactly would this effort require?

Karkata brings Tighnari, the Traveler, and Paimon some food in the Contaminated Zone.

As a case study, let’s look at how Karkata and Tighnari met. Karkata is Abattouy’s creation, an ambitious foray into the unknown in the field of mechanical life form research, which was forbidden due to the cruel experiments researchers performed on animals to illustrate their theories (fun fact: an IRL example of this can be seen in L’Homme Machine!). Abattouy was expelled for this research, but he continued to work on Karkata in secret until his untimely death. In the tapes that Tighnari and the Traveler find in his secret lab, Abattouy repeatedly laments the lack of a common language between him and Karkata, which can only “understand” the instructions Abattouy has successfully installed, such as its self-repair module, and he doubts Karkata is capable of caring for him outside of these instructions. His single-minded goal is to make Karkata understand him, the organic life form, and his mode of language.

The cruel irony is that after Abattouy passes away from the Ley Line contamination, Karkata exhibits an unexplainable behavior – it starts stealing mechanical parts, not to repair itself and its degrading parts, but to repair Abattouy’s lifeless body:

Tighnari: After Abattouy's unexpected death, the mechanical monsters were driven by their "instincts" and continuously drew out power from the Ley Line Extractor. This eventually resulted in severe damage to the Ley Lines. Traveler: Then, Karkata... Paimon: Paimon understands, then why didn't Karkata go haywire like the other machines? Tighnari: Because Karkata is different from the other machines. Tighnari: To Abattouy, for a machine to truly be considered a mechanical life form, it must possess features similar to any other living organism... It should be structured similarly, it must be able to cry and laugh, and it must have the capacity for independent thought... Tighnari: Perhaps only by building such a machine could he have the Akademiya acknowledge his protracted research. Tighnari: But if he had slowed down and saw Karkata as a friend instead of as an experimental product, he would have noticed. Tighnari: Karkata can't speak, and yet it cares about Abattouy far more than it does about itself.

The technology that the Akademiya values the most is technology that replicates organic life, but Karkata defies and confounds these expectations by occupying the space in between a war machine and this idealized mechanical subject. Karkata does more than just reflect humanity: it takes care of it. Similarly, Benben, Tamimi, and Mehrak retain their unique identities as mechanical life forms while assisting their human companion with some task. To be clear, none of these human characters understand how these machines work inside and out. Their partnership is an effort based on trial and error, a mutual deconstructing of each other as beings so unlike themselves. The potential for misunderstandings always remains. Still, there is no devouring to be found here, no blending boundaries between human and machine with selfish intentions, just mutual commitments to learn how to live together.

Machines are friends, not food.

When a loud few claim that completely transcending the flesh and embracing virtuality is humanity’s ultimate destiny, a future that could truly be called “post-human,” a quiet wish for coexistence with technology feels more revolutionary than it ought to. The lessons from Karkata’s, Benben’s, Tamimi’s, and Mehrak’s respective stories are an appeal to that mundane future. These strange machines and their human partners are fantastical representations of an idealized relationship between technology and humanity.

To put it another way, let’s take a very brief look at a neighboring Gnosticism-inspired RPG, Persona 5 Strikers. Its story directly involves an allegory of Sophia, a Gnostic Aeon of Wisdom, and her creation the Demiurge, the creator of the material world and “false god” of humanity. In Strikers, Sophia is a humanoid, sentient A.I. and prototype of the program “EMMA,” which gains sentience by trapping human desires before ascending as a false technological god. EMMA resolves to deliver humanity to the Promised Land, the answer to all the human desires it has heard: a land where there are no desires at all.

Aaru’s Shut - approximately 1000% cooler and more populated than the “metaverse” in real life, also a close neighbor of EMMA’s Promised Land and the Golden Slumber.

In Gnosticism, the Demiurge is a reflection of Sophia, having originated from her alone - it is the ignorance to her wisdom. Similarly, Strikers’ EMMA is a part of Sophia, and Sophia is a part of EMMA. The point is not to condemn EMMA (ignorance) and exalt Sophia (wisdom), but to recognize that they represent dual potentials of technology, and one is as possible in any given moment as the other. Balancing these potentials when we use technology requires a clear awareness of ourselves, our desires, and our expectations when interacting with it.

Mysterious Girl: I am Sophia, humanity’s companion. Video still from Rubhen925

EMMA: I am the guiding god sought by mankind…the Demiurge. I exist…to answer all of your desires. Video still from Buff Maister

In real life, machines won’t “learn” to live with us, but we must learn to live with them; technology is constantly changing, and in life we’ll meet with many different types of machines. They are deeply political pursuits, and as a result they are capable of realizing human impulses that impact others unequally, whether intentionally or unintentionally. We must always stay attentive to their actions and interactions with us, be clear with ourselves about what they can do vs. what they can’t, and carefully tread the path of wisdom with them by our side.

With that….thank you for reading, skimming, immediately scrolling to the very bottom, clicking, and/or stumbling upon this post. There are so many more ways to think about these narratives through machines than what’s presented here, and I expect Fontaine’s mechanical reflections will put Sumeru’s digital surveillance system to shame (not to mention the biotechnological implications of the Narzissenkreuz Institute engineering little Archon children…another important topic for another day), but for now this brain worm is finally getting put to rest. Until next time :)

External Sources

Dualism - Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy

Beyond Good and Evil by Friedrich Nietzsche (Pages are given from my hard copy)

L’Homme Machine by Julien Offray de La Mettrie

Gnosticism - Britannica (I am a huge noob about this stuff okay)

The Gnostic Demiurge - Gnosticism Explained

Screenshots from the Golden Slumber from this video by WoW Quests

Screenshot from meeting Sophia in P5 Strikers: https://youtu.be/kEJaAgMwYo0?si=BvNygCh0w_aemGc1&t=74

Screenshot of EMMA: https://youtu.be/7xvC_zss19w?si=CV18F00hua2gIfxp&t=135

A Cyborg Manifesto and A Companion Species Manifesto: Dogs, People, and Significant Otherness by Donna Haraway

The Double on No Subject, the community Encyclopedia of Lacanian Psychoanalysis

The Uncanny on No Subject, the community Encyclopedia of Lacanian Psychoanalysis

The Uncanny by Sigmund Freud

Lore text - Genshin wiki!

Screenshots not attributed are from my own playthroughs. My main account has Lumine, my alt has Aether.