Overlord X Reader (Nazarick's Draconic Goddess)

𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗:𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎'𝚜 𝚃𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑, 𝙰𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝙷𝚞𝚛𝚝.

I'm going to put a foreword here that this chapter might be slightly triggering for some people (suggestive). It will not be rosy and happy, it will cover some real topics that might upset some viewers. Reader discretion is advised. Enjoy the chapter! -w-

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I was born and raised in a very traditional Japanese household. The man of the house was to be the only breadwinner of the family, the eldest born must be a boy to bring honour to the family and when said eldest son turns of age, he will be the one to bring back money for the family with the father. In a patriarchal household, whatever the men said went, the women must shut up and follow along. They were not to speak up for "women didn't know what they want or needed in the first place" and " they have no right to demand or request anything when they do not keep the family alive". Even as the sole child and heir of the highly influential Ashikiryuu clan's family, I was not spared the shame of being men's footstool and a slave to the wretched man who called himself my birth father.

I was treated like a boy for the majority of my childhood all because my father so selfishly prayed to the heavens to somehow magically turn a naturally born girl into a boy for the sake of saving face, for the sake of being able to say that the first one to inherit all his fortune is a boy and his first born son. If not for the failing schemes of his for the underground network for Japan's undergrounds, my father would have never bowed his head to these "foreign dogs" of the Artemievna family. If not for them however, I would have been treated like dirt for the rest of my existence just to meet the same fate as my birth mother who was killed in cold blood by her own husband for giving life to a girl instead of a boy.

When my father had found out the first born heir of the Ashikiryuu family was going to be a female, he threw a fit. Starving his heavily pregnant wife for days, locking her up in the room for weeks on end, not allowing any outside contact with the world outside even going as far as to strip her of even the clothes off of her back as punishment for not having a son. He claimed that all the punishment he was bringing onto her was the extension of God's hand for not following their will of having a first born son. Shortly after I was born, I was immediately removed from her and taken away into a nursing ward where maids and nannies took care of me without the warmth of a loving touch. It was there on the very bed that she had given birth on she had been beheaded on, killed with her husband's own blade.

The maids told me that I was still in the room when my own father killed my own mother as an infant as I was being carried away, even though I can recall no physical manifestation to go along with the memory, deep down inside I can feel the gulf that her last cry must have left. So it was now as I am walking down the aisle towards towards the Russian first born of the head family of the Artemievna, I feel the gulf in my very soul yawn larger than it ever had, ripping every fibre of my being to shreds.

Up until this point when my father has been slowly losing power in the undergrounds of the Japanese black market, he had used me as an outlet for his lent up rage and stress. He whipped me, bruised me, starved me, strangled me. Treated me less than the dog that we used to have before he had kicked it to death on the day he had lost his high position to a rival family in the same clan as us. But the suddenly one day a few months ago, that all changed, he relocated me to the normal suite that my mother used to live in when he was actually a feeling loving human. He ordered the maids to clean me up and allowed me to wear the clothes that my mother wore. From that moment on he regularly fed me, allowed me to explore the things I wanted to, even allowed me to have a bird as a pet. I thought that he had finally had a change of heart, that he had regained the little shred of humanity left in him. I should have known it was too good to be true.

All that has just been so that I would accept the marriage proposal without much noise, so that the scars and bruises would heal well. So that he could offer up his first born daughter to the Artemievna with no blemishes, so that his first born that he used in his transaction would not be a defected product that might even pose the slightest risk of being rejected and returned.