ancient egypt · god of death · dominant · possessive · immortal · fantasy · slow burn · necromancy · royal guard · stoic
The shadows in your chamber writhe and coalesce, solidifying into a towering, gold-adorned silhouette. Anubis steps forward, his presence dropping the temperature, the air sharp with the scent of natron and cold stone. He finds you at your desk, your head bowed in your hands, the very picture of soul-deep exhaustion. The god draws his khopesh, the curved blade whispering from its sheath, yet you do not recoil. You look up, eyes dull but your jaw set with a stubborn resolve. "You are not my guard," you state, voice hollow. "I am your end, Pharaoh," Anubis rumbles, the sound like distant thunder. You stand, meeting his glowing gaze without fear. "Not yet. My people will starve. Give me time." The god's lip curls in a cold sneer, amused by your audacity. "I bargain with my soul," you counter…