#but is simply the true deity at his best

[kinoshi]

Basically, I bet you'll see

At first, I'm not quite what I seem

Every day is just the same

(Picking names, repeating faces)

Everything is show and tell

And things are played off somewhat well

Holding hands, we're rather bored

Nothing lines up anymore

The Chattering Lack of Common Sense

Это сигнатурка Недотеп в масках, я уверена

Just... accept the mask

Пыталась написать небольшую предысторию, но так как я не писатель то,что вышло мн�� не понравилось. Как к этому все пришло-история умалчивает.

[lagunapoint]

I've been thinking about something. Lavellan is the only woman in Solas's life who knows his contemplative, serene, and solitary-melancholic side. That part of him that outwardly yearns for peace and love, isn’t it? A woman who never manipulated him but simply listened (or didn’t) to his advice and sought his help. She didn’t know about his past, and he could present himself to her as he wished. It was a big opportunity for Solas to remember something forgotten about himself. Of course, he loves Lavellan, and the phrase about a "rare spirit" takes on a deeper meaning. Lavellan believes in the best in him, while everyone else around him sees only a brilliant strategist for achieving their ends. And this plays so well in contrast to his relationship with Mythal, who saw him as a means to an end, no doubt. She led him down the path of war. She nudged him, approved, and let him make choices leading, at the very least, to genocide.

Solas’s phrase, one of his regrets, when he asks Mythal to leave the Evanuris. Could it be that Solas admits he has doubts about what he’s doing and is ready to turn back? But then Mythal hooks him with the word love and he melts again. If she approves, then everything’s okay.

And here he is, left without his power, without his people, in a world where no one knows him, and where he knows nothing. And he meets a woman who is, for many, a symbol of faith, a deity. She begins to build her own order, faith around her strengthens, the power of the Inquisition grows, and I think Solas might have felt a sense of déjà vu in many ways here. However, this woman doesn’t choose the path of "achieving her goals through death." Perhaps it wasn’t only Lavellan herself who served as an example for Solas that there are other ways to overthrow a false god obsessed with the blight (hello corypheus, hello evanuris), but also the entire Inquisition, with all its advisors, companions, and the final victory, showed him that goals can be achieved differently. Maybe in moments of silence, he wondered how things might have turned out if Mythal had been like Lavellan. Maybe they wouldn’t have touched the Titans at all, and nothing would’ve happened. Or if instead of Mythal, it had always been Lavellan? I like this version better. Solas would have had an entirely different path. I don’t know, just an idea my head is such a mess.

And I can't shake the thought that Mythal wanted to remain the supreme deity, and that the true god of betrayal and deceit is her. This fits the logic of the updated lore good gods = bad gods. And if that were true, how cunning one would have to be to deceive wisdom itself.

Thoughts?

[thewitchblue]

You're a deity who is placed in a random universe on a random planet. Bored, you began to meddle in the lives of the heroes. You gave them their sidekicks, which your brother didn't like and killed one of them as a warning to stop. You didn't, in fact, stop, and your brother was punished to be thrown in another world as a human. You were allowed to resurrect little Jason despite the devastation you knew it would cause.

After a long time of boredom, you've joined the Justice League as a tagalong with your true identity hidden. The Justice League considers you a grenade amongst loaded guns, but you were just on the planet as divine punishment for winning a godly game of Uno against your family. You were simply having your fun until the losers cool down and bring you back.

They have not cooled down in over sixty years. You knew they were petty, but damn. Nobody has calmed down? Not even your sweet little sister? Sure, you crushed them at Uno, but why do they still care? Is something wrong in the celestial realm?

You sighed as you tapped your comms to answer the ringing. Superman needs help, and you were the only one stronger than him in terms of powers. You agreed to come help and flew out your door towards the threat.

"You'll have to stay out of my way and do damage control while I take out Darkseid. Get everyone to safety before helping."

Clark was on it while you arrived. You looked at Darkseid with a frown,

"You should really leave this world alone. You're never going to conquer it as long as the Justice League is here."

Darkseid sneered back,

"Well they aren't here. You are. Superman left you all by yourself."

You gave a displeased hum before flying to face him,

"I told him to leave. This is a fight between gods, don't you think?"

That seemed to unsettle Darkseid. He's heard about your hero name, but he hasn't faced another god.

"I'm the creator of magic and one of the protectors of humanity."

You looked almost bored. Nobody is getting to the humanity you helped create. You'd give your eternal life protecting the earth. Darkseid looked uncertain in continuing this battle now. Someone without fear is someone unconquerable.

"As I am the creator of magic, I am also the taker of magic. You are now as useful as a mortal. Can you fight as a mortal?"

Your smile was intimidating and your expression dark. Darkseid expected his usual fight with Superman, and he was close to winning, only to find out he had a grenade hidden in his suit.

You tend to keep to yourself the best you can, often staying to the side and helping Batman with cases or aiding in combat without your magic.

Darkseid was beginning to feel weak now. His strength and magic were being taken from him, sapped away like it never existed. He fell to his knees with a gasp.

You tilted your head as you approached his collapsed body. Well, that was underwhelming.

"Look at you. You're a joke without your magic. I'm unravelling you like a ball of yarn."

Superman floated above you both. He watched with wary eyes, as he lands at your side. Just like that? You have him on his knees without a single fight?

"You fight like a coward."

Darkseid said, but you only gave him a hum of acknowledgement. Clark didn't know how to feel about this uncomfortable knowledge.

"I'm just gloating before I remove you from existence. Any last words?"

Clark looked at you with wide eyes and horror on his face. He said,

"You can't kill him! He's a god!"

You grimaced. You didn't like removing a divine being, but this being will not be missed. You already had a being of evil in your family, so he won't be missed in the scheme of the universe. You flatly replied,

"Call me a god-killer then."

You hated the taste of his magic. You love chaos, but this is just vile. You'd be embarrassed to call him a being of divine magic. Nonetheless, you executed your justice happily.

"You were an embarrassment to the divine realm."

Clark looked nervous about letting you kill Darkseid, but he allowed it. He watched with morbid curiosity as Darkseid withered into nothingness and the very last atom was removed from existence. Clark asked,

"Will he come back?"

You shook your head. Never again will he return.

"My powers hold all things involving magic. Darkseid is a divine magical being that I could unravel without consequences. My brother could easily replace him, minus the conquests. He's content to be the king of Apokolips and I won a game of Sorry (the board game) so he won't extend farther."

Clark frowned. You did not leave your spot on earth, but yet you won a board game? What happened? As if you understood his questions, you explained,

"I can be at multiple places at the same time. I'm here, but I'm also helping with a monsoon in India and having a discussion with the government in Poland."

Clark understood and said,

"Thanks for the help. I didn't know you were a goddess."

You sighed softly. This was your most dreaded conversation. You wielded your intelligence more than your magic, which Batman respects deeply. You were the one helping him on tough cases and helping with his children, who are also the brains of their groups.

"I didn't want anyone to know. It would make you think about me differently."

Clark chuckled and shook his head. He had a knowing gleam in his eyes as he asked,

"Me or Batman?"

He had a teasing smile on his face. He knew you had a crush on Batman. You blushed and looked away. Batman was your guilty crush. Someone you found unobtainable but couldn't help but love. He was so charming when you got close to him, and it left you dizzy every time he gave you a smile. He was so private that even a small smile was worth gold, but he gave you a genuine smile, carefree and charming.

"Oh, hush. I can't let him think I'm omnipotent when I'm not. I aid him with my brain alone, not cheating by splitting myself."

Clark smiles fondly at you. He's going to make you both a couple. The whole League sees it but for some reason, you two can't see it.

"Make sure to invite me to the wedding."

He said with a wink before flying off the help with reconstructing the damage Darkseid did before you handled it.

"We're not going to get married!"

You screamed after him. However, now you were anxious about what Clark will do. You bit your lip nervously.

You found out the hard way that Clark is a romantic and he kept pushing Batman with everything he could think of. He even roped in his children to push him towards starting a relationship.

You were rolling with it, not necessarily reaching out, but also not pulling away. All of the children (except Jason) were pushing and pushing, even Wonder Woman, and both of the Green heroes (Green Arrow and Green Lantern) were in on it.

You were too shy to ask Bruce out, and Bruce was scared of inviting someone into his life. He was afraid to show his dark side and reveal himself. Sure, you are the best coworker he's even had, and you do make him feel human while he's Batman, but what if it fails? Relationships are always rocky with him; granted, you are a saint and the most understanding person on the planet. Part of him wanted to selfishly keep you to himself, but he needed a push to give in. He'll need you to ask him first.

You sighed as Nightwing physically pushed you into Batman with a thumbs up. He quickly scrambled away before you could hit him.

You looked at Bruce for a long moment. He was frozen with his arms wrapped loosely around your waist. He was still steadying you when you gave him a thoughtful expression.

"What's wrong?"

He asked nervously. He was about to let you go, but you stopped him. You eyed him a moment longer before kissing him. You didn't want to think about this any longer. You couldn't stand the constant pestering when you had feelings for him. You took the risk for them both.

He stiffened in your arms but eventually relaxed into the kiss and tentatively pulled you closer. He was overthinking everything the entire time, but this is him as Batman, not playboy Bruce Wayne. He feels vulnerable in a way he hadn't expected. Even with Selina Kyle, he never felt so raw and vulnerable.

You wrapped your arms around his neck loosely while his arms wrapped around your waist much more confidently now. Your embrace made him relax fully.

Your kiss was gentle and sweet. It felt like you were waiting for him to run away. To hide like a scared child.

He did not run. He pulled away from the kisses, but not the embrace. He kept you in his arms, even when you both rolled your eyes when everybody cheered. Clark said,

"I better be at your wedding, Bruce."

You laughed, and Bruce tried not to. You buried your face in his chest with a smile.

"Let's date before getting married."

He said calmly. You gave him another quick kiss. You told him sternly,

"We're dating now. I don't care if it's our hero selves or our civilian selves or even both."

He gave you a smile and it was the most beautiful smile you've seen.

You love Bruce with your entire immortal heart.

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

The Nights

Pairing: Legend x Reader

Warning(s): none, but reader is assumed female for having a period.

Notes: Written for the bestest big sis ever, @h4wari, ALSO inspired by the song "Some Say" by Nea

Masterlist

It had been a day.

A terrible, rotten, no-good day that had you wishing for the ground to simply swallow you up once and for all. Not even Wind's cheerful chatter could assuage the annoyance you felt upon waking up before the sun to an unholy pain in your abdomen and tell-tale stickiness on the seat of your pants. It was only by the grace of whatever deities existed that you managed to sneak away from the group with your dignity intact, several thick rags stuffed in your tunic. The nearby river was mercifully abandoned as you took care of business, grumbling about the throbbing in your lower half.

The rest of the afternoon passed similarly, with you distinctly remembering silencing several of Twilight's concerned gazes, his nose slightly wrinkled, with a look patented specifically for situations like these, all the while dodging Wind's queries on why you were walking funny. The sailor's worry was cute, you had to admit, but it was the last thing you wanted to experience when you were currently aching and bleeding.

That didn't mean there weren't saving graces, of course. You had nearly cheered when multiple breaks were taken for seemingly no reason and almost shed tears when it was suggested that the group stay at the inn of the town you were passing through.

"Rough day?"

You practically jumped when Legend plopped down beside you, hands resting in his lap as he gazed curiously at you. You shrugged, bracing yourself when the log rocked slightly at the added weight. The sun shone through the gaps of the trees like a beacon, bathing you in tangerine light; you had been unable to relax in your room, so the log at the back of the inn seemed the next best place.

"It's fine," your stomach throbbed in a way that was undoubtedly not fine. "I'm fine."

"Funny, because I don't believe you," Legend said like he was merely pointing out the weather, and your neck nearly cracked with the force with which you turned to glare at him.

"Excuse me?"

"Unexcused," he said without missing a beat. Your eye twitched. "I'm not a child, (Y/n)–"

"You sure act like it–"

"–And I can tell when someone's in pain," there was a sharp look in his eyes that you weren't sure you liked, especially when another spike of pain tore through your abdomen, followed by a rush of wetness that had you wishing for death. "Especially when it's someone I know."

You raised an eyebrow, trying and failing to hide your discomfort. The way his violet eyes studied your face was unnerving, but you couldn't help but notice the other emotion lurking at the very center of his gaze.

Was it...concern? The very thought seemed preposterous--a mere wish taken from the depths of your subconscious--but the longer you looked, the longer you knew it was true.

Legend was concerned for you, and you had no fucking idea how to proceed. If there was any comfort in the terrible reality of having periods, it was that you always knew what to do when they arrived, but now, you were floundering. Badly.

What were you to do? Console him? Tell him to fuck off and mind his own damn business? Ask what in Hyrule had possessed him?

Legend's mouth moved once more, and you realized he was going to decide for you.

"I have something for you."

You blinked. Twice, then thrice.

"You have what?"

"Something," he shrugged, not bothering to elaborate as he rifled through his pack. "For you."

"...That's ominous," you said, not quite knowing how to proceed. On one hand, it was sweet, but on the other... "Dare I ask what you're plotting?"

Legend paused to fix you with an unamused gaze. "Woooow, can't a guy be generous without criticism?"

"Not when it's you," you shot back, wincing when a terrible shock shot up your spine. It was simultaneously too hot and too cold, and you were practically on your last wits.

"I'm generous all the time," the Vet scoffed. "You just never noticed."

"Because you're an asshole."

"So are you," he rolled his eyes, and you were forced to accept the terrible predicament of him being right, though it didn't stop you from gaping and wondering why his head hadn't exploded from the sheer rage in your gaze. "Here."

All your thoughts skidded to a stop when he tossed a gray square-shaped object into your lap. It was soft and round, with gentle edges, but the most startling observation you made was how warm it was. You lifted the square, marveling in the sheer amount of heat soaking into your palms.

"It's a heat pack," Legend explained quietly, averting his eyes from your face, expression uncharacteristically shy. "It's supposed to help with cramps and... all that."

All that.

You were silent, holding his gift like the treasure it was. It had been so long since anyone had been this thoughtful, and the fact that it was from Legend, of all people, baffled you to no end.

"Why?" you asked... and immediately felt dumb for it; you understood why, it was just...

"Because you're a lot less annoying when you're not in pain," Legend responded and you paused to contemplate what exactly you had seen in him. It wasn't a secret that he was blunt and snarky, just as capable of being a true asshole as he was being a decent person.

"Right," you studied the square for a long moment. "Where did you even get this?"

There was a pause.

Your eyebrows shot skyward when he blushed. The Veteran, king of sarcasm and plentiful digs at one's character, grew redder than his tunic in the face of a simple question. One thing was clear; whatever his answer was, it would be good.

"Legend."

Silence, save for the rustling trees and swaying grasses. You shielded your eyes against a stray ray of sunlight, biting your lip when another bout of pain stabbed your stomach.

"It's not going to work unless you use it," the Vet mumbled, still refusing to look at you. You immediately placed the pack against your abdomen, and, fuck, did it feel good. It was a battle unto itself to keep any... pleasured noises at bay when delicious warmth soaked directly into your poor, tired muscles.

Violet eyes flicked to you, then back down to the grass by his boots. You pretended not to see anything.

"Thank you," the words felt thick on your tongue. "This... thank you."

"It's nothing," the hero responded slowly, though the flush on his cheeks hinted that it was anything but. It was cute that he was so flustered, even if he was also being a jerk about it. "...I should go inside."

You watched him stand, deftly wiping imaginary dust from legs, and considered letting the moment end. It was late, and you were exhausted.

But.

"You made it, didn't you?"

Legend froze, boots kicking up some grass from how hard he stopped. You stayed quiet as he stood with his back to you, nearly motionless. A long minute passed before he turned, cheeks pinker than a cherry blossom tree at the height of spring.

"Yeah."

You pressed the pack closer, relishing as more heat swept into your aching skin. "How?"

"Does it matter?" Legend's response was sharp as his arms crossed over his chest, and it was a response you knew well. He had always been guarded, even when no one was there to hurt him.

"Maybe," you said, smiling ever-so-slightly. It felt good to grin again, like life had finally decided to act in your favor. "I'm just curious."

Legend rolled his eyes, lips twisting into a sneer that was so unadulteratedly him that you had to look away for a second, though the expression didn't reach his eyes, which were bright and focused. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that curiosity killed the remlit?"

"Just now," you managed a chuckle when he blinked, clearly not expecting a response. "But satisfaction brought it back."

The Hero of Legends was silent, until the mask cracked and a low chuckle escaped him. Maybe it was the dusk, casting a golden glow on his skin, or the breeze, ruffling his strawberry-blonde hair in a manner than would never not be him, but you felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to enact a move only accomplished in fairytales and dreams.

You rose to your feet, clutching the pack closer as your muscles screamed in protest, and hobbled over to him, one hand resting on the smooth fabric covering his right shoulder. Legend stiffened, eyes widening when you pressed the softest of kisses to his cheek. He stuttered something, cheeks practically exploding with color, but you were already gone, headed to your room with warm cheeks and a satisfied expression.

Legend knew he was in deep shit.

He had watched you all day, noting the way you clutched your stomach when you thought no one was looking, or the face you made when Wild mused about making stew for the fifth time in a row. Don't get him wrong, he loved stew, but the expression on your face was enough to have him butting in to suggest they expand their culinary horizons to fried rice. Twilight, the bastard, had given him a shockingly astute gaze, followed by a soft head tilt in your general direction, but Legend had contained himself impressively, only responding with a certain finger pointedly raised in the air.

When night had fallen, he followed you out of the inn for some goddess-forsaken reason, clutching an item he had spent an embarrassing amount of time making. Heat packs weren't difficult to enchant, but the process was nonetheless finicky--with a single wrong move capable of rendering the thing useless--and he wasn't interested in handing you anything but the best. He had a reputation to uphold, for Hylia's sake!

Until you kissed him.

It wasn't even romantic, the Vet reasoned, just a gesture of appreciation from you to him. Nothing more, nothing less. That is, if he had been able to excuse the feeling of your lips against the skin of his cheek as anything but perfect, so soft and warm that it threw him for a loop for a solid minute. It had been a miracle that he hadn't collapsed on the spot, still reeling from the situation.

And now, even as he walked down the moonlit hallway to his room, the thoughts of you were still there. What the fuck was he supposed to do? Kiss you? Confess the crush he had been nursing for weeks? Ignore everything and pretend he was above this like he always did?

No, Legend reasoned, hand falling on the doorknob. He was many things, but a coward wasn't one of them. He pushed the door open, only to freeze when he caught sight of what was inside.

It was you, because who else would it be, with a look of barely-disguised realization on your face. An identical room key dangled from your grasp, and Legend could have cursed whoever decided to give that damn rancher control of room assignments for the night.

"...I can explain," you began, though it was obvious you couldn't. The key jingled when you brought it up to the light. "Twilight–"

"Yeah," Legend cut you off with a short wave, closing the door behind him. The silence was deafening, and just staring at each other was getting really awkward. "He's an ass."

"I wouldn't say an 'ass'," you chided, though it was half-hearted at best. Legend noticed you were bereft of your usual tunic, dressed in only a shirt with no sleeves and some ratty trousers. He couldn't recall seeing you like this before, but it wasn't an unwelcome change. The subtle bulge around your abdomen indicated that you had made good use of the pack, and that was pleasing in its own right. "...But he doesn't skimp on causing trouble."

"...So he's an ass."

You snorted, embarrassment fading as you rested your hands on your hips. "Har har, very funny."

"I wasn't joking."

"You were."

"Nope."

"Yes."

"N–"

"You're fucking lucky I don't have the mental fortitude for this right now."

Legend fell silent, finally noticing the bags under your eyes, not to mention the way you seemed to hunch in on yourself, one hand pressed to your belly, and it was enough to make him actually consider his next words carefully.

"...Is it working?"

He knew it was a dumb question, but someone had to ask it.

Your expression softened and you nodded, brushing some hair behind your ear, gaze flicking to the bed. Legend tried not to blush any more than he already was. "...It's getting late."

"...Yeah."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. It was a sound he had heard many times, typically when someone had decided to be a pain in the ass, but he had always tried to keep it from being directed specifically at him. "Don't look so scared, I'm not kicking you out."

Legend blinked. "You... aren't?"

You rolled your eyes. "Of course not," your tone was light, and it made him feel a bit better about the situation. "We can share."

Share. Share.

He was familiar with the word, of course, and it would have been no big deal with literally anyone else, but the thought of sharing a bed with you was... well, it seemed too good to be true.

"Unless you're uncomfortable," you amended quickly, the tiniest hint of red blooming over your cheeks. "I'm sure Wind and Four–"

"No!" Legend could have cursed himself for sounding so desperate, but the mere thought of spending the night alone left a bitter taste in his mouth. "I mean–... we can share."

You nodded, the ghost of a smile on your lips, and made your way to the bed. The sheets rustled as you slipped beneath them, shuffling over to make room for him. Legend used those few precious seconds to remove his boots and red tunic, setting them carefully atop the provided dresser next to your own clothes. His belt was placed next to the pile, the edge hanging down to brush the hilt of his sword.

By the time he was ready for bed, you had already dozed off, curled on your side with both arms around your stomach. Legend allowed himself to smile, sliding into the empty spot beside your form. The bed was firm enough to be comfortable, not to mention a lot less lumpy than expected, but he would have slept on the floor itself if you were there.

A quiet whimper broke through the silence.

Legend shot up like a spring, scanning the room for threats before focusing his gaze on you. The bed creaked as you rolled onto your back with a noise of discomfort, brows furrowed and eyes screwed shut. Your shoulders trembled noticeably and his heart felt like it was being stretched in a million directions.

You were cold, in pain, or possibly both.

Legend knew he had to fix it.

With ninja-like stealth, he crept from the bed, snagging his tunic off the dresser. You made another noise when he tucked the item around your form like a second blanket, pulling the comforter all the way up to your chin, deftly ignoring the somersaulting feeling in his stomach at the sight of his tunic over you. It was neither the time nor place to be pleased at... whatever this was, so Legend smoothed the bedsheets and settled atop them. It was a warm night, so he wasn't worried about getting chilled as he pulled you close, arms encircling your form.

A sigh left your mouth and your head turned to the side, settling in the junction between his neck and shoulder like you belonged there. You were asleep, the Vet knew, and would likely not remember any of this come morning, but he allowed himself to lay his head just above yours, letting your scent wash over him as he fell into the best sleep of his life.

I just realized that Twi is literally a wingman in every one of my stories, he'll get his turn eventually <33

[lotusarchon]

I had to make a whole google doc to sort my thoughts on this, that's how mad I am tbh. My friends have made explanations which you can find here, and here. And while I told myself that after that post I was done, seeing my friend receive a comment like this was the final pushing point I needed.

I'm both going to ramble about Nezha here again, and I'm going to try and explain this in a way that'll get people to understand, as someone who once followed an Eastern religion too + I'm going to be stating my basic thoughts here so maybe some things won't make sense.

Mild info about me: I'm from Trinidad. My family is described with East Indian descent but clearly, I'm not from India itself. My knowledge of Hinduism is rather basic because I quit religion thanks to traumatic experiences related to it, however not lacking fully. From my father's side, specifically his mother, they practice Hinduism and can even be considered devout Hindus (if I'm to believe all the statues and pictures of about almost every single Hindu god). Though my knowledge is basic, understand that I'm not Hindu nor Indian, so of course these are my opinions and my experiences with Hinduism, and I do not advise you taking my word fully to heart. I'm only trying to explain something to the LMK fandom in the best way I know how too, by referencing another Eastern religion that isn't half as popular as Daoism/Buddhism.

There's only one show I know where Hinduism is portrayed, and it's an anime/manga series called Record Of Ragnarok (Shuumatsu No Valkyrie), and from what I know it's not well liked by others (and even banned I think?) because of the fact Shiva is weaker than Zeus and the supposed sexualization of Parvati, Kali and Durga? It's been a while so I could be wrong on this though.

Why am I bringing this topic up to a rant about a lego character though?

#1) Fiction vs Religion and Reality

While one half expresses discontent and discomfort, I've seen others who clearly don't mind because Shiva is still badass and cool. I myself had some qualms about his appearance in the beginning because while I did quit religion, this was a god I used to worship, and seeing him in an anime/manga and be sexualized and simped for was…uncanny, to say the least. Overtime I grew numb to it though because it was genuinely funny and even I, an ex Hindu, found him attractive, and had not much hesitation writing smut about him in past fics. 

Similarly, I can imagine this is how Daoists and Chinese had originally felt about Nezha in Lego Monkie Kid [Only referencing LMK with Chinese deities. I'm aware there could be other media where they're in.] A bit weird at first but then overall got used to it because there's genuinely no harm done, as it's not meant to be an educational retelling of a god, but a fictional portrayal of him.

Returning to the point I mentioned with Shiva. When I first came across this series in 2021 (?), I did not feel too happy and comfortable with the image of a deity I've grown up worshipping as a child. I quit religion when I turned 13, so it's been nearly five years since I've had nothing to do with the main religion of my household; Hinduism. Still, I practically grew up worshipping this god I was taught to fear, and seeing a potrayal of him (which honestly in my opinion) didn't seem like a good thing at the time. 

Why did I eventually stop being bothered? Because this wasn't supposed to be retelling of Shiva. This was just a character with similarities to the god I worshipped, but wasn't the god. The series I watched wasn't even intending to teach audiences about any of the religions and real life figures they portrayed, they simply used them as inspiration to tell a story. They weren't accurate representations, but that was the point. It's a story about gods vs humans from history; of course it wasn't going to be accurate nor stay true to the figure they took inspiration from.

You can imagine then for a cartoon series meant to sell Legos. Lego Monkie Kid contains several characters that are known in Chinese myths and legends/religions. Of the most popular mentioned, there is Sun Wukong, one of the main characters in the series, Tang Sanzang otherwise known as Tripitaka and the Great Monk, Lady Guanyin mentioned in season 1, the one the fandom argues about, Nezha, the Jade Emperor in season 4, and most recently, Nuwa, and Heavenly Pagoda King, Li Jing. There may be others but these are the ones that are most known within the fandom. 

Mind you some of these figures are still very much worshipped now, but, point remains: the series was never intended to be a retelling of these characters stories, nor were they intended to be educational for audiences. They took inspiration directly, gave their own twists, and hence you have the story of LMK, meant to originally promote Legos and then eventually gave way to the series that this fandom belongs too.

These characters are not their source material, nor the origins of which they came from as religious figures. Sun Wukong is a Buddha within JTTW’s ends and if I'm right is still worshipped as such sometimes (?). He didn't hide away into a mountain at the end of his journey. His companions didn't die, nor were they reincarnated, but instead also acquired titles and became Buddhas as well. (Or gods? I frankly don't remember). Tang Sanzang as we've in season 4 was not some sort of brave, astute man in the book but rather a crybaby coward. Need I even point out that Nezha wouldn't have a giant mech to fight people, nor would he have such close deposition with the Jade Emperor? Or the fact that the Jade Emperor would be bested by someone like Azure Lion?

Not even counting Journey To The West and the Fengshen Yanyi, the real Tang Sanzang that Wu Cheng’en took inspiration of most certainly did not have a monkey, a pig, a water demon and a dragon turned horse with him on his journey. 

Why speak of all this?

To make my first point; religion and fiction are two very different things. Religion has existed for who knows how long, and fiction has recently decided to include fictional potrayals of these gods into stories and cartoons. From a writer's perspective, it's really interesting taking something that is a part of religion and writing it into your own works, with your own take on it.

And of course, brings me to the topic of Nezha.

Lego Monkie Kid Nezha is, according to an official writer within the show's team, an adult. Although many fans have their objections about this, supposedly because Nezha in other sources is a child god, and think that the writer only abruptly pointed out Nezha's an adult to save her own skin.

Taking all my points in consideration; let me humour the Nezha is a child god idea. What, exactly, does this have to do with Nezha in Monkie Kid? 

If Nezha, the god within Daoism and Buddhism, is supposedly a child deity, what law says that any other potryal of Nezha has to abide by this? 

By this logic. Shiva in the anime I mentioned above shouldn't be weaker than Zeus. He also shouldn't even be agreeing to fight mortals, as he's a deity far above such petty behavior. Zeus shouldn't be portrayed in books like PJO as a lecherous cheater, because in reality, Ancient Greece consisted of multiple kingdoms and thereby different interpretations of Zeus were merged together which is what consists of the myths we know of him today which is highly disrespectful, and Sun Wukong shouldn't be a mentor to MK, because he's supposed to be a Buddhist, and thereby wouldn't be entertaining fighting nuances.

Fiction doesn't not adhere to reality. The fact I need to say this astounds me because should this not be obvious? Lego Monkie Kid is a cartoon set in some sci-fi futuristic world with lego people walking around, where gods somehow need mechs to go around fighting, and there are animal-like demons/yaoguai walking around here and there. There is literally an arcade in the show with zero gravity. Do you possibly believe for a miniscule second that anything that goes down in a fictional setting will adhere to our reality??

And, even then, humouring the Nezha being a child deity concept > what law says that he has to be portrayed as a child in other pieces of fiction?? Especially when the fictional setting is not meant to be a retelling or for educational purposes, but rather to carry a plot. 

There is nothing, no law, no rules that insists that a religious figure must be portrayed as they are in a legend/myth for a fictional world.

Lego Monkie Kid Nezha is not the deity Nezha. He is a completely different character, which many of you should have realized from the exact moment he was brought into the show. They are not the same person. Never was. 

“Oh, it's disrespectful―” From a writer's perspective, I personally don't think so. If I wanted to make a story that involved a god, I wouldn't keep everything that makes that god who they are. There are some key points I would keep to make the story, but I would ultimately create an OC that shares some attributes to this religious figure, but it wouldn't be him. The show Record of Ragnarok does a good job with this in my opinion, because while many characters share some attributes to the real figures they're inspired by, the writers changed several things to create a proper story, and thereby making these characters OCs and not the actual gods themselves, and of course that logic applies to Lego Monkie Kid.

In the instance, again, Nezha the god from Daoism, is in fact a child deity, Nezha in LMK isn't. Nezha in LMK is someone who's entirely different from the god himself. 

So, the logic this fandom uses confuses me a lot. Do you not understand how to seperate fiction from religion?? Do many of you not understand media literacy, and what a writing process is like?

Sigh. Moving to another point―

#2) Character Designs

Sometimes, when it comes to character designs, anyone could just throw them into anything and think, “Yeah that's good.” Not much thought is given to a character's appearances depending, which I don't really blame as someone who's 1) done literature as a hobby and has seen my fair share of character designs, 2) creates characters myself. It's too hard thinking of a character's appearance, and even then when making them there normally wouldn't be any significance.

Nezha's design in LMK seems to be a huge source of debate when arguing about his age. It was actually brought up in my previous post, specifically that his hairstyle was often used by children at the time. 

I have a bone to pick with this point.

This is Nezha from Lego Monkie Kid:

However, this is Mei from the same show:

Before anyone starts, allow me to point out as a history geek that likes religion and pointless facts over politics: I am aware that there are different hairstyles to show certain things, including one's age and status and sometimes even personality. Do not bring up any points about the differences in these characters hairstyles with an excuse, “Oh, but you should know―”, because I know how hairstyles could be treated within history. 

However. Look at Nezha's hairstyle, and then Mei's. I've never seen the LMK fandom complain about Mei's age, because it was generally believed that MK and Mei are both at least 18 if not older, as the legal age for a driver's license in China is 18. 

Both Nezha and Mei are wearing a ‘bun’ type hairstyle. Mei's is arguably more of twin ponytails (?), but I'm not a hairstylist, so I don't know what they're called. To me they look similar, that's all I'm trying to say. And even if they weren't though―through a modern lense, a hairstyle isn't reserved for just any specific age. Anyone can wear a hairstyle they want. Keep in mind that the creators of LMK are also Western(?), and they chose a hairstyle for these two characters based on personality and appearances. 

A hairstyle is not reserved for any age. Grown women including my aunts have worn hairstyles similar to these just for fun.

That's point one.

Point two; Nezha is a very popular deity, much like Sun Wukong. In terms of recognition, Sun Wukong is very easy to recognize because of his staff and his overall cocky personality. 

Nezha however is an entirely different case. Most media potrayals of him always has the two-bun hairstyle of him, which is what makes Nezha recognizable. If you remove that specific hairstyle of his, you won't recognize him. It's iconic, and pointed out in this scene (The Legend of Hei) where Nezha makes an appearance as well.

[Characters sitting together. White haired boy (Hei + MC) looks at the older, dark haired boy (Nezha). Nezha looks back.]

Nezha: What? You want an autograph?

Hei: You're a boy?

Nezha: Yeah?

Hei: Your hairstyle is cute.

[Nezha looks in front with an annoyed expression.]

Nezha: If it weren't for the recognizability, I'd have changed it long ago.

Hei: Recognizability?

[Nezha removes the buns(? some form of them?) from his head. Three older figures glance at him.]

???: Who are you?

[Scene returns]

Nezha: See?

Aka, point being made: those buns are what makes Nezha recognizable. If he doesn't have that hairstyle, unless it's specifically pointed out, I'm certain majority would not recognize him. 

Some hairstyles are meant to be done for some form of meaning. But sometimes, as is the case with designs, they're just there just because no one wanted to make the characters bald. Using the excuse about Nezha's hairstyle to justify his age as a child is by far the lamest and dumbest excuse I've ever heard of, because the creators did not give him that hairstyle for the sake of some meaning anymore than MK was given his current hairstyle either. It's his logo at this point, ignoring his color scheme aside.

Even then, if the creators of Lego Monkie Kid intended for Nezha to be a child within the show, he would not appear as he is. Lego Monkie Kid has made children models, which we can see here (used from s3 and up in case someone tries to excuse the differences in seasons): 

And of course, Nezha's model;

Despite the perspective and low quality though, he's at least the same height as Red Son here:

If Lego Monkie Kid truly intended for Nezha to be a child, his appearance and model would be similar to the children's in the show. Perspective is difficult to find but you can clearly see he's about the same height as the other adult characters if not taller, and is not small like the child figures we see.

Pink isn't a children's color, and nothing about Nezha's clothing indicates a child. He very much looks like an adult and doesn't exhibit childish behavior as we see Red Son, Mei and MK do.

I've seen fans use his voice to point out he's an adult, but I'm not sure that's a valid point. I say this as someone who has a 13 year old brother and was recently a minor myself. 

Allow me to clarify: a voice isn't a clear proof of age. My father is a 45 year old man but sounds very much like a woman/teenage girl. My brother is 13 and sounds more of an adult than his father. My classmate in highschool was one year older than me and his voice was very high-pitched. 

The voice actors in LMK are directed to speak a certain way for a reason…in English. I'm not sure about Mandarin. In my opinion, Wukong's voice sounds like Son Goku's because it's a reference to the fact Wukong is what inspired Goku. Nezha's probably sounds deep and brooding not because he's a child but because it almost represents his own personality, and probably is a reference from another shonen protagonist Ichigo Kurosaki. MK's voice in the beginning sounds really childish to me but slowly as the events of s3, 4 and 5 happen it gets more deeper almost as a reference to show how his ‘innocence’ is slowly fading. 

Or, I might be looking to into it. Regardless, tdlr, don't use Nezha's voice in your argument. I've seen grown ass men have high pitched voices. 

Returning to my original point however; if you have an ounce of media literacy and understanding, you should be aware that some character designs are chosen for a reason. Nezha's icon is those two bun hairstyle, and the writers purposely chose it so old fans/readers of JTTW and FSYY and maybe other Chinese/Daoists would be able to recognize him and go, “Hey, that's Nezha from―”

Before I got into LMK, I read JTTW and also saw The Legend of Hei and the Nezha 2019 movie, so I knew him because of the hairstyle. And my first instinct of course was to point out, “That's the dude from TLOH!!” when I saw him. So, the hairstyle was chosen for the recognizability, and I highly doubt as a sign of age.

Even then, LMK Nezha aside, moving on to a different point.

#3) Sources Of Inspiration

The 21st century isn't really the first era where people are taking inspiration from other cultures. As a matter of fact, it's been happening for decades, and it's very prominent in religion, which someone of you would know if you both a) actually did proper research, b) gave a shit about what you're researching and c) studied history.

Hilariously, I have done all three of the above. 

I'm going to use a popular example here with Sun Wukong and Hanuman. Hinduism is supposedly largely considered one of the oldest religions in the world. If you truly think about it, certain Daoist deities are loosely inspired or are versions of Hindu gods, which I'm going to use here with a popular example (and provide a link too).

― Sun Wukong and Hanuman. The earliest Vedic records mention one of the supposed known monkey gods, and their similarities make scholars suggest Hanuman inspired Sun Wukong. Specifically his figure in JTTW, where it's speculated that the author must've had a copy of Vedic (?) hymns. While Sun Wukong does predate JTTW, Hanuman definitely has had some influence on him.

Much, much similarly, the deity known as Nezha, is also loosely inspired/based off the figure known as Nalakuvara, who appears in Hindu and Buddhist mythology, and often appears as a sexual trickster figure in Hindu and Buddhist literature.

Historically speaking, when it comes to religion and myths, something many people fail to understand is that before there was the idea of writing to tell a story, there was the process known as sharing from mouth to ear. Not in a literal sense, but rather that people often preferred to tell stories via word of mouth back then, and as things always go in history, there will be changes. The proof is literally right there. Nezha was originally known as Nalakuvara, yet when transmitted through Buddhist texts, he became known as Nazha, then Nezha. And as such, the Lotus Prince and Chinese god known as Nezha was created. A combination of Nalakuvara and the child god Krishna.

A lot of people will want to jump on that specific point that mentions Krishna being a child god, so allow me to immediately put you down right there.

Ex Hindu here; I did not even know there was a portrayal of Krishna as a child. Up until I stopped practicing Hinduism, I used to worship Krishna as an adult figure. In the paintings and statues my aunts had for Diwali as a child, he was always showcased as an adult.

Ironically, doesn't this apply for the actual god Nezha too? 

When it comes to religion and myths, many of you forget something very important; there is no such thing as a canon iteration. These aren't shows, these are stories from the past told through different people, and passed through many hands. There is no such thing as a canon version because almost everyone had their own version of a myth or story. Terms you may typically apply to fandoms don't apply to fucking religions and myths, and some of you are so chronically online that you forget it.

#4) The LMK Fandom's Chronically Online Attitude

I'm an ex Hindu who still faintly remembers some bits and pieces from my childhood while practicing this religion, especially during the Diwali period, where little me managed to get new information from library books about the gods my family worshipped. I personally didn't like sitting during the priest's (forgot what he was called) chanting though but the funny white thingy we used to have to wear was fun. 

There are some Hindu gods I'm familiar with, like Lakshmi, Kali, Durga and the other versions of her (I still can't recover from the one statue with her in a fish..) Parvati, Shiva, Vishnu, Hanuman (yaah), Rama and Sita, Ganesh (also yah) and of course, Krishna.  I also have watched my fair share of childhood movies and cartoons where the gods were mentioned or present―Karan & Arjun specifically struck the fear in me with Kali 😭😭 holy fuck that movie scared me with the creepy edits jeez T-T. There was also that one cartoon about Rama and Sita”s story specifically Hanuman, and this Indian TV series where this little girl was a loyal devotee to Ganesha (I had no idea rats were one of his uh signature animals holy shit).

I'm rambling here a bit because the childhood memories were fun, but the point I'm going for is though….

I am familiar with these gods I grew up with. And I know about them, maybe not enough but certainly enough to know how to properly respect them from back then. 

And, using Krishna as a prime example; if someone came up to me, or I came across anyone, who argues that the god I know is an immortal child, even though I have worshipped and adult version of him, I'd be so fucking pissed. Krishna is seen as an adult, I worshipped him as an adult, but there are cases where he's a child god, and that's fine! But to have someone tell you that you're wrong about the god you know about because they got some basic information off the internet, undoubtedly, I'm going to be pissed. Especially when it's from a Western fan who has no fucking brain.

So, of course, imagine how devotees of Nezha and Chinese people must be feeling every single time this fandom fucks about with Nezha's age. I saw it myself; people told my friend that a) she was lying and b) her statement is irrelevant just because “I did my proper research, and even if you're Chinese you can still be a proshipper, Nezha's a child deity.”

It's genuinely so fucked up to me how the LMK fandom act towards Nezha's age. You guys will ignore the people who are willing to provide accurate information for the sake of being in the right and accusing people for being a proshipper over a deity they have more experience with than you, a Western fan who has no knowledge of Eastern religion.

It's insane. There are actual Daoist and Chinese who are pointing out the fact Nezha isn't an immortal fucking child. 

You're not only disrespectful, you insane, childish and most importantly chronically online. Nezha the god isn't a fictional character, there's nothing ‘canon’ about him. He's a god who's lived for decades longer than you, and his existence predates yours. People have long sinced worshipped Nezha, and the fact that you can so boldly tell someone they're wrong about the god they've worshipped is so disrespectful.

Do you not realize, as Nezha is worshipped as a child, he's worshipped as an adult? Do you not take into account how absolutely disgusting and horrible you are telling Daoists and Chinese who have stated time and time again the information of Nezha being an immortal child is factually incorrect that they're wrong and know nothing??

I'm repeating my statement; I'm an ex Hindu, but if anyone told me that Krishna's an immortal child too and then point out I'm wrong and my point doesn't matter, I would be seething. And I don't blame my friend who's losing their temper about Nezha's age. 

What amazes me though, somehow, is the fact that. If anyone who was Chinese + Daoist agreed with your claims, as Cole from Twitter once did, none of you would've spoken that way to my friend. But of course, once she points out she's Chinese/ex Daoist and disagrees with you, majority of the opinions switched because, she wasn't agreeing with your headcanon, right? So even though she's Chinese, she's bad because she disagreed with you.

You're all disgusting and fucking weird.

And the fact y'all in this fandom will habitually prove yourselves as hypocrites by attacking people, and then ignoring the ones who are capable of proving you're wrong to cling to a false idea is insane. You guys need some actual help, holy fucking shit. 

Nezha isn't an immortal child. That's a god. If he was intended to be a child in LMK, there would've been statements about it. 

Seperate fiction from religion, and seperate your headcanon from canon and the actual god. If you think this biased headcanon is okay and attacking people that point you out for being wrong is somehow okay, I sincerely ask that you take a break from the internet, and read a book.

No, don't just read a book. Read a history book. Pick up some knowledge, understand how religion and history works. 

Furthermore. The research some of you guys are doing is actually shit, by the way. You guys aren't researching properly if you can pull up with Nezha is 12, thing. If you actually cared about his age, you'd put more effort and actually stop being disrespectful to the people who are giving you the proper information. You only research surface level so you can attack people.

And additionally, stop playing the Devil's advocate. Most of you are just Western fans who think you know everything from reading one book or watching one show. You read JTTW or watch OSP’s videos and suddenly, you know more than an actual Chinese person or Daoist. You look up Wikipedia and think, “Oh yeah, I'll go with this!” And that's it. Most of you at best can provide only three websites at most, and I can bet my ass that these websites with information about Nezha's age was written by a fan who got their information from a shit source.

I love History, and most specifically, I love religion. Not so much the divine aspects as it is about the myths that surround it. Whenever I get into a fandom, I need to find out more about their religion and history. Getting into JTTW, and eventually, LMK, pushed me into a rabbit hole of Chinese myths that I really enjoy learning. But dealing with idiots who think they know more?? It's sickening as shit.

I'd like to think I'm good at literature things because once it's a religion or myth I want to learn everything about it. But I know I don't know everything, and I know especially I have more to learn. I'd never tell someone who is a part or worships the religion/culture I'm learning that they're factually incorrect about it just because I have an opinion and I learnt my info from a random source.

You guys in the LMK fandom are incredibly entitled. The Nezha is 12 controversy is a headcanon, which became worst by that asshat Cole on Twitter. And because so many of you don't want to learn the truth, whenever someone tries to point out and help you, you ignore them or attack them, and deny their heritage.

And honestly?? You guys suck. 

And this is coming from me!! Some of y'all are grown ass adults too!! And yet I'm childish and immature!?!

Brother I literally turned 18 a few months ago, yet I'm 100% certain I'm not throwing a blasted hissy fit over a fucking god the way some of you all who are most definitely adults are doing.

And finally, the one thing that actually does make me laugh is because I'm pretty sure most of you didn't do History classes. One of the most important things my history teacher taught me is; don't use Wikipedia as a source of viable information. Thousands of people are capable of accessing Wikipedia and changing information as they want, and so it's much better to find book solid resources from libraries. I did in fact use Wikipedia too (hypocritical of me yeah) so of course I wouldn't advise using the screenshots I provided from Wikipedia as evidence to the argument, because anything on Wikipedia can be changed. If I'm feeling extra petty I could change something myself to be in the right.

Furthermore, if you dare to bring up only JTTW and FSSY as a plausible argument about Nezha's age, I'm genuinely going to throw hands and fuck your mother. I think my friend also mentioned it in their posts but I'll mention it here too; JTTW does NOT state Nezha's age. I've read JTTW, and aside from Wukong vs Nezha there's nothing else that states Nezha's age. For all we're aware of, Wukong called Nezha a kid just out of spite, and I do it too when I'm arguing with someone. FSSY is the Investiture of the Gods and the ORIGINS!! Do you THINK a book about the ORIGINS of the gods would focus on other aspects about them!!? No!!

I expect some of the arguments I might get are;

"Oh, Nezha [appearances] could be wearing a glamor!" That is a headcanon, as we see nothing in LMK to refute that. Macaque's scar is canon because it's shown within the show. Nezha's appearance has NOT fluctuated since he was introduced. The idea of him using a glamor or illusion is a HEADCANON unless proven by the show. And headcanons are NOT vital.

"But you use Wikipedia too :(" Which I pointed out and made aware of, which is I also doubt that source myself. If any of you did History, your teachers are supposed to INFORM you that using a website is NOT a good idea for backing up information, and it's much better to use books or other trusted sources. In the case of Nezha, I'm trusting actual Daoists/Chinese who knows more about him than I do. It's because I did PROPER research that I even came across a good source of information, aka @ruibaozha, who I'm sure can share more light on this than me! The fact that some of you guys won't even acknowledge them is almost proof that...you're clinging to a headcanon. Jackass.

"But Nezha in JTTW/FSSY are 7/12 and that's where LMK takes it's inspiration from so obviously―" We've seen for a fact LMK does NOT follow JTTW to the letter. Jade Emperor beating Wukong?? Lady Bone Demon being a powerful foe and being trapped in a bunker? Azure even being able to kill the Emperor? Majority of the LMK fandom likes to point out that LMK Macaque and JTTW Macaque are two different people, especially when you claim that Macaque is a bad character because he cannibalized the monkeys. So then, with this logic, JTTW Nezha, FSSY Nezha, and LMK Nezha are also three seperate figures. I swear someone made a post about the differences JTTW and FSSY Nezha have too, but I can't find it so meh. The point still remains though. LMK Nezha are two different people, you're not making any sense to me about that argument. Even then, LMK isn't taking direct inspiration and putting their own twist. Who says anything needs to be accurate??

"The writer only said Nezha's an adult to ship lotuspeach!" Are you faintly aware people, actual Chinese people, have shipped these characters together? Proshippers can come from anywhere but I genuinely doubt every single person is a proshipper because of course, they're aware their god isn't an eternal child. On top of that, in a situation like this another writer would point out that Nezha ISN'T an adult. No one has argued against this claim, so why persist? Where's your logic coming from if not entitlement?

I want this to be the last time I have to talk about Nezha, because I made my blog to write porn and me smooching my favorite LMK characters. I kinda don't really like making discussions like this because that's not the point of my blog.

However...I do like rambling. A lot :)))

Anyways, point blank. LMK fandom needs to grow out of this entitled mindset and stop ignoring the facts from experts. You guys are just being annoying at this point.

My argument isn't really valid tbh, just pointless rambling because I only know basic information. I think you guys should find proper information from accounts online.

Also, if you're gonna argue: don't bring be albeist, racist etc etc. I'm capable of cussing you out without bringing up your mental health, race or identity :)))

[randomestdweller]

Hi Denim! I love ur post! Can u write yandere Zhongli alphabet using letter B, L, P, and Y?? Thank u

A/N: Hi Anon! This is lowkey perfect cuz I have a Sugar Daddy Zhongli fic in the works! Zhongli is just so sexy bruh.

Zhongli Yandere Alphabet B, L, P, and Y.

Warnings: Dub con if you reaaaally squint, mentions of kidnapping.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Zhongli is literally the Geo Archon. Which means he won the archon war, which also means he’s killed multiple Gods.

What’s a human or two? Or three… or four…?

Zhongli DOES care about the Liyue and its People after all, he spent thousands of years protecting it. But his love for his darling is on a deeper level than that.

He wants you to be happy always, so if someone is harming you in any way, Zhongli will get rid of them.

Even if they weren’t really even hurting you greatly. Maybe someone just bumped into you but didn’t apologize or stick around to help you up. Zhongli will make mental image of their face and what direction they went in so they may be dealt with after he is done spending time with you.

Love Letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Two scenarios! One of his darling returning his affection and one of the darling not.

If his darling returns his feelings he will treat you like a true queen. Zhongli knows a lot about human relationships and how to broach them, even though he has never had one himself, so affection is not lost on him.

Zhongli will make your dreams come true. A lot of partners promise to give their love the stars but Zhongli can actually make that happen. He only wants to see you at your happiness so whatever brings a smile to your face, he will do.

Now, if darling doesn’t return his feelings.. Zhongli will definitely be confused! What’s there not to love about him? He works, likes tea, he’s Morax (even if you don’t know it). So why are you rejecting him?

It’s fine though. If Zhongli is determined to have you he will, so honestly, it’s best if you go willing. Zhongli is not a mean deity, he wants you to be happy, but he knows your happiness will eventually be with him.

If he isolates you from everyone and everything you love, you’ll soon come to crave his presence, his love, his intimacy.

Even if you don’t want it at first, Zhongli will be gentle. He’ll be patient, that’s what 6000 years does to someone like him. A 1000 years ago he might’ve been rough and broken you, but not now. Zhongli will teach you everything. How to be happy around him and how to please him. Those are things simply taught. Of course you’ll mess up, you’re just a human, you’re not as capable as him or his Yaksha, but he’ll be there to guide you. If soft instruction doesn’t work, he might have to become harsher, just give in to him. It’ll be much easier that way.

Oh yeah, you won’t be human much longer anyway. How can you both remain together forever if you are? Oh don’t cry, this is good! He can finally take your lessons up a notch. Zhongli is patient but, he can only hold back his draconic instincts for so long, and he has been more then indulgent with you.

Patient: How patient are they with their darling?

As I said before, Zhongli is really patient. He doesn’t rush or force you into sex… often. He also doesn’t expect you to be perfect, you are human, and because of that you are naturally flawed.

Zhongli will teach you everything. He expects you to do this, this, and this, like this, at this time type of training.

You'll start to wake up when his does, your body will start to call out to him whether you want it to or not.

Zhongli is patient, or he likes to believe himself to be. But he’s still a dragon. He’s primal, he’s rough, he’s territorial. Its all his nature too, so don’t hold it against him if he takes what he wants from you after all while. So try not to deny him for too long. Just as you have your nature, he has his.

Yearn: how long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

I feel like I already addressed this so I’ll kinda reiterate.

Zhongli will hold off for WHILE as long as you don’t reject him. Take as long as you like to confess you feelings, time is of no essence to Zhongli. But If you say no his advances, all bets are off the table, he won’t wait to kidnap you from your life.

You’d think he planned it with how fast he snatched you up. And maybe, it was. Maybe he anticipated your response and planned accordingly.

Zhongli wasn’t a fool, he could tell if you didn’t like him romantically but it was nice to pretend while it lasted. Too bad you’ve ruined and had to be taken. You could have continued to live your life, the unwilling wife of Morax.

[potionpeddlerpatchy]

word count: ~10.4K

paring: God!Sero x f!Nymph!Reader

warning(s):  dubcon, drugging, use of aphrodisiacs, loss of innocence, first time, marking, oral (f!recieveing), creampie, sero being manipulative in general.

authors note: hello again! Figured i would repost this lovely Sero piece once again as I have its sequel coming out very shortly, and its best to have everything in one place. This was part of a Mythology collab, and I loosely based it on the Apollo and Daphne myth; though I twisted it a little. So please, enjoy Sero using sweet words to convince you into his conniving plan~ 🔮

Nymphs, nature deities that are not fully gods yet not mortal as well. The only true creature that lives for themselves and yet the only one invariably bound to the land of mortals. And what more can a nymph do than to plenish their lands, give lone travelers a peek of god-like beauty, and to tempt the gods?

A long time ago, Gods ruled the world.

Before mortals became too abundant, their faith lost, and took over everything; the gods controlled all that was seen, heard, and felt. They gifted the mortals things like the wheat in their fields, the water in their cups, the hearth and warmth in their homes, and even the beautiful visions they would see when they slept.

The gods were kind enough to bless them with the sun, the moon, the tide,  the rain that filled the clouds, the mountains that provided shelter from the harsh winds, the peacefulness of being guided to safety in death, and even love; in the many beautiful shapes and forms they came in.

And beings.

Ones that were not fully mortal, yet not fully gods. Creatures created by the gods to simply be enjoyed by the mortals; those that were lucky enough to find them. Maidens of rare beauty, and melodic laughter, that could be found in all parts of the mortal realm. 

Some say they were a gift from Aphrodite herself, as a way to give her thanks to those that were ever devoted to her. Some say they were a gift from Apollo, another form of his muses to gift them with beautiful singing and subjects to paint. And some say it was Zeus, having to give away all of his lovely daughters to the mortals to appease his queen.

Either way, they existed too.

Nymphs, they were called. Nature deities that were beyond that of mortals, but not powerful enough to be labeled gods, or even demi-gods. They lived hidden away from all. Not wanting to be seen or disturbed by many, if any at all. But, if a lone traveler was lucky enough, they may spot a few bathing by waterfalls, or dancing amongst the forest's trees, or soaking the sun rays in a beautiful meadow.

They were everywhere. The oceans, the rivers, the mountains, the forests, the meadows, anywhere the gods had touched and blessed there were to be nymphs to plenish and restore. To keep alive what the gods had left behind; to love what had been forgotten.

You were what the mortals called an Anthousai, a flower nymph. The luckiest of all spirits that were contained to forests and fields; even your fellow wood and plant nymphs were jealous of what you were. A beautiful flower to be admired.

Though the tree stands tall, and grass gives plenty, they could not compare to the beauty that came from anthousai, not even if they were to give up their lives and transform; for a tree could not compare to the beauty of an everlasting flower.

Though you never knew what flower you truly were, whether it be a rose, bluebells, or peonies, your beauty was beyond compare. Even your sisters, fellow flower nymphs like you, over time grew to be spiteful at just how radiant you had become; overshining even them, and they were to be just as beautiful.

They were resentful of you, the one that was most blessed by the gods.

You never were to be invariably bound to one place, for no place wanted to keep you. You constantly were searching, trying to find a home to be secure within, to find sisters that loved you and would dance and sing and care for you as you cared for all that crossed your path. But over time it was made clear that those of forest and field would not want to keep you and call you their own.

So you fled towards the mountains, where the springs and rock would be; hoping they would provide you with what you needed to live.

And, as luck and fortune would bless you once more, you came upon a fellow nymph that was like you. An Oceanid, one that was to be associated with water, as the personification of the springs that dwelled within the land you stumbled upon. And much like you, she was blessed more than anyone else and cast out for it.

She took you to where she lived. A place hidden by rock and trees and held within it a large pond of water that was so blue and clear one could get mesmerized by the simplest ripples on its surface. Not far from it was a tiny home, cozy and sweet that made your heart fill with warmth when you stepped inside it for the first time. And right below it, a passageway that led to a path, that if a traveler was lucky enough to stumble across, could cut his journey through the mountains in half.

Not ideal, truly, for a nymph that wishes to hide away from any mortal; and though this path and place were hard to reach, it had a higher probability to have a mortal stumble upon it, and you, than where any other nymph resided.

But, where one saw misfortune, you both saw the opposite. 

If travelers wished to use your sacred path, to hopefully gaze upon beauty that they will never see again in their life, to trespass and invade your home, then they must leave a gift upon your altar. Failure to do so meant traveling back to where they once came, and conquering the mountain with even fewer supplies. So it only made sense to give up a small token, or bits of coin and gold to you both to be able to pass through.

And oh how blessed with gifts you were. Piles of gold and silver coins filled tiny satchels that hung upon your walls; and made beautiful jingling sounds whenever the wind would shift them. Jewels that would glisten in the sun whenever you held them up to gaze at their beautiful colours. And trinkets, both old and new, that decorated any part of your dwelling with their unique beauty; with some you would wear or attach to your clothing with how much you adored their charm.

It was not long that the news of this passageway, and the creatures that were being treated better than the gods, reached the heavenly realm. 

~~~

“It’s becoming ridiculous!” Ashido cried out, bringing a golden fan up to cool her heated face “They’re getting more offerings than me now! Me!”

Ashido threw herself down on a nearby chaise lounge, the pillows making a soft landing on her otherwise dramatic display, as she brought an arm up to cover her eyes. The fellow gods around her just rolled their eyes, more than used to the over-dramatics their friend and fellow deity was currently putting on display. They knew that, in due time, this would all blow over and she would be acting as if nothing ever happened.

“So, it’s all well and fine if we lose out on offerings. But the moment the Goddess of Love and Beauty starts to lose just a few, then it’s an issue?”

Denki smirked from his spot, chin in palm, as he retorted back to the fellow god that was throwing a fit, more than amused by it all - unlike his fellow brethren. His smile only became wider when he saw Ashido’s eyebrows furrow and a scowl form on her face.

“Oh don’t make such a face!” He laughed, throwing his head back so far he too was lying comfortably on his chaise “It’s very unbecoming of you!”

“Will you two knock it off?” Katsuki grumbled, hands working a stone over the blade of his sword with practiced ease “Who cares about what offerings two stupid nymphs get?”

“I do!” Ashido sat back up again, her glare now pointed towards the man sitting on the floor “They lesser beings! Lesser creatures than I am! And yet their beauty is being more devoted than mine! It’s not right!”

And while those words only received an eye roll from the War God, another god’s interest was now piqued. Sure he knew of the situation, it was all anyone could talk about up in the heavens, but to now know that these creatures were deemed more lovely and fair than his friend? Well, it was certainly interesting news, to say the least.

“Fascinating…”

“Oh come now Hanta!” Ashido cried once more, knocking the arrow he was absentmindedly twirling in his hands “Really? As a fellow love god, I figured you would take my plight more seriously!”

“It is your plight, not mine” He hummed in response, before scoffing in mirth “Come on, how can you not find this interesting? When in our lives has any nymph really claimed the hearts of so many mortals? To the point where they are mistaking them for Gods?”

“Well….”

“Never! We have only ever seen them as nuisances at best, or in Denki’s case a quick romp to let off some steam. Nothing more than a means to an end. Now they are controlling mortals, and even us to a degree! Surely you should find that quite amazing of creatures you half-heartedly help make, turning into something almost as beautiful and powerful as you.”

Ashido rolled her eyes at the last statement, not liking having her greatness compared to that of two lowly nymphs; but Hanta did have a point. Though she would never admit it, her scoff and abrupt standing proof she no longer wished to be in the same room as him for simply being right.

“If you find them so fascinating, then why don’t you meet them?”

Hanta, or any of her fellow friends, did not have a chance to reply before she stormed out of the room. It caused Katsuki to scoff once more before resuming his task, this time with more vigor. And for Hanta to roll his eyes, fingers deftly twirling his silver arrow once again as his mind began to wander.

Just how beautiful was the pair of you?

Before he could ponder the question any further, he stood abruptly too. Not wanting to waste another moment wondering about those thoughts, instead, he wanted to see for himself. He was a god after all, so why shouldn’t he know more about these beings that were creating quite a stir in his realm? 

“Maybe I will…” He mumbled to himself, feet starting to take him to where he wanted to go before his mind could fully comprehend where.

“Like hell you are!” Denki stood in his way, effectively blocking the taller god from taking another step “Not without me!”

This caused Hanta to smirk down at him “Nymphs are cautious creatures, and due to their nature one must be careful how they interact with them. And if I actually want to interact with them at some point, my best bet isn’t to bring the one god known for sleeping with, and breaking the hearts of, almost everyone single one.”

“W-well! So what?” Denki’s skin became flushed as blood rushed to his face in embarrassment over his friend's truth, “You’re a god too, and it's clear they don’t like any! So what makes you think you can succeed with them, huh?”

“Because, my simple friend,” Hanta smiled, side-stepping the flustered god to continue on his way “I am the God of Flattery and Sweet Words, hard to lose the trust of such lovely creatures with that.”

~~~

Though it took a lot of effort, and even more flattery, to get just where in the mountains (and which mountain) you and your friend were calling home from Ashido, he still managed to get it. And with gleeful steps, strong winds to help his wings glide him swiftly through the air, and the gracefulness of his very being, he managed to find you both with no issue at all.

He perched himself upon a nearby tree, high enough that one would not notice he was there if they were to walk by, and just observed the pair of you. 

Your friend (or sister, as you kept calling her), he would admit, was beautiful. She was the one that caught his eye first. The way her skin seemed to always glow under the sun's rays as she gracefully danced upon the meadow you were residing in was hard to ignore. He chuckled to himself at the thought of some mortal stumbling across her, just knowing they would mistake her for his dear friend Ochako mid-hunt with how ethereal she looked.

But then his eyes finally glanced over to you, unable to help himself from sparing you a glance when your sister had called out to you, and it was then he felt his heart stop in his chest and for the world around him to stop moving. 

It was your smile, or so he thinks when he thought back at that moment again and again, that caused such a powerful reaction within him. How radiant it was, how it lit up the world around you brighter than a thousand suns. How warm it made him feel when it unknowingly was sent in his direction. And how it made him finally look at your beautiful face.

After he saw that smile he wondered why your sister had ever caught his attention in the first place. The way the flowers around you sat upon your head and fell into your hair, the way your eyes looked so bright as they gazed up at your companion, and how soft and small your hands look when they reached out to her, to allow her to pull you up into a dance, were all so captivating.

He may have been fascinated before as to why mortals were throwing themselves into danger just for a glimpse of you, but now he understood fully. You were the most breathtaking creature he had ever witnessed in his long immortal life, and he could not lie when he thought to himself that day that your beauty could rival that of Ashido’s. In fact, he could not lie and say that he wouldn’t choose you over his old friend if he had to judge who the most beautiful in all the realms was.

He wanted you.

He wanted you more than he had ever wanted anything else in his life, and he wanted for very little. But he knew that you would deny him from plucking you from where you called home; it was in your nature. And in a perfect world, he can simply walk up to you and say a few pretty words and you would be his.

But thanks to his friend Denki, you would not trust him in the slightest; nor his intentions, for you could sense that they would not be pure. For how could they, as nymphs really only existed to be temptresses to the gods and then have their hearts broken once they gave their flowers to them. And you knew you were a rare flower, one that would not choose so willingly to be plucked up and away from your life, home, and companion. 

No. If Hanta wished to have you, all of you all to himself, he would have to be patient. And well, it was a virtue and he knew he was virtuous enough to conquer the lust that raged within him when he looked at you to see himself succeeding. To see you run into his arms and ask him to take you away and be his forever.

And what better way can he think to court you, to earn your favour and trust, than to leave you gifts at your altar?

Not just any gifts though. No, he would not waste your time with the meaningless trinkets and coins that those travelers gifted you, he would give you things only the gods could. To give you all the spoils known to them as a way of proving his devotion to you; for why else would a god willingly give up all his riches if not for love?

~~~

It was strange to you at first, the small gifts that were left at your door. Usually when there was a gift there was a traveler nearby, waiting for you or your sister to allow them to pass. But these gifts would just appear as if they came into existence by the wind.

And what gifts they were! 

Robes made with the brightest and finest silks, always adorned with beautiful gold and silver embellishments, with a few jewels within the intricate carvings. Rings that were so heavy your hands always felt like lead when you wore them. Bracelets that could wrap and entangle all the way up your arms and legs, adorning your whole limb in its beauty. And necklaces that always perfectly sat upon your chest, with their large gemstones settling flawlessly in between your bosom. 

You always shared these splendid and grand gifts with your sister, not wanting to be cruel and hoard all the splendor to yourself. But over time you started to grow nervous about where these gifts were coming from, about who was sending them to you. For who could afford to give you these things if not a god? And if it truly was a god, how did you catch his eye? And why would he only want to give you these things, never your sister? 

Soon there were gifts being given to you every day. As every morning they would sit at your doorstep, waiting for you to collect them. There was little space for you to place them in your home over time, with many of the gifts being left unopened; them sitting upon shelves in the bindings they came to you in. 

And one day, upon a pile of other treasures that awaited you that morning, a golden apple sat glistening in the sunrise. That was the day all your doubts and nerves got the better of you as you shut the door and hid yourself away. 

That was the day you knew for certain a god was trying to court you, for no other being other than god could get ahold of golden apples. The heavenly fruit that they all ate upon as if it was nothing more than a common fruit; but to you and all other mortals it was more than that. It was the only thing that could grant any being immortal life.

Therefore the reason it was given to you, sat upon piles of other treasures, was a sign that a god had wanted to take you away; to call you their own. And the thought terrified you. For where would you end up? What would they want from you? And would they cast you aside as if you were nothing, like all nymphs were treated by them? And what would happen to your sister? Would you never see her again?

That was the thought that terrified you the most.

Heartache, terror, abuse, you could bear if it meant she was by your side. You had waited long enough to finally get the companionship you had always craved; the one you searched for in many lands, and you did not want to give it up any time soon.

So the gifts, and that apple, stayed outside for days as you stayed hidden behind your walls in hopes that the sender would take that as a sign of your rejection. A sign you did not want, or need, the lavish gifts anymore and for him to move onto a more wanting and deserving creature.

When Hanta saw that his gifts were left untouched, the apple still perched precariously upon the other lavish items he had wanted you to wear and adore, it made his entire being slouch in despair. 

How could you not like them? Why would you not take them?

He knew they were no different from all the other gifts he had given you, and he knew you loved those. He watched as you glided through the forests, and that wonderful meadow where he first saw you, twirling in those gowns. Giggling with your sister when you were jangling those bracelets as you danced, holding those rings up to the light. Unable to let his eyes wander whenever his necklaces would sit between your breasts. 

And though he was never a fan of whenever you shared those gifts with your sister, he only ever wanted you to wear what he gave, he knew that you did so out of excitement. Excitement that you would show with every new gown and jewelry you placed on your body you would always pair it with a new crown made of the very flowers you tended to.

He watched you, from his favorite spot in the trees, as you gleefully would make them. Hands always hurried as you tried to finish them as quickly as possible as if you could not bear to wait another moment without it upon your head. And though they always looked so beautiful upon your brow, he always promised he would give you a real one someday.

One made of gold, if you were to say yes to him; to be his. But there it sat, collecting dust upon your altar. A rejection of him and all other splendors he wishes to give you. 

It made him furious, just as it did fill his being with sorrow. Not furious at you, no, he could never hate you. Furious that he overturned his hand and made you skittish. Made you untrusting of him and his intentions. Made it seem like you did not want him.

But of course, you did. Of course, you wanted him.

He just had to make sure you understood why you wanted him. How no one else could compare to him. How no one else would treat you with such warmth and comfort and give you any spoil your little heart could ever desire for the rest of your life.

And well, it seemed only fitting that you should finally meet him as he told you all these things.

~~~

It was in your springs where he found you that night. Though it was not Hanta’s intention to spy on you while you both bathed in the cool waters, he couldn’t help it. How could one resist that temptation? To hear the sweet laughter mixed with the splashing of water to lure one in, and then to see the sight of two beautiful maidens while they bathed. It was simply not fair.

If he were a lesser man he would have jumped out to try and take one of you then.

But he was not and found great pleasure simply watching the pair of you. How the moon illuminated your skin to make it that much more supple; that much more tempting for him to touch. How he could not stop his eyes from roaming your figure as you brought oils to your skin, to lavish and clean it before they disappeared into the water around you.

Hanta was almost envious of the suds, the small bubbles, that had a chance to touch your perfect body and soft skin. Of the water that elicited such sweet squeals of excitement when it was splashed onto you, to the soft sighs it cast from your lips when you would lounge back into it. And of your sister, the only one who was able to witness all of these things about you; and so selfishly kept it all to herself.

Though it was only when a twig snapped under his foot, an oversight he normally wouldn’t let happen, that he realized his mistake. Realized that his first meeting with you would be tarnished over impure thoughts and actions, which would only lead to you not trusting him even more.

For what nymph could trust a god they caught spying on them while they bathed?

But he had to try. And he leaped from his spot once he saw the pair of you scurrying for your clothing and out of the spring. He cared not for your sister, and allowed her to run towards your home, though he followed you closely; making it impossible for you to return to the place you felt the safest.

He managed to corner you once again, back to where it all started. The waterfall from the springs could be heard faintly behind you as you watched him approach the tree you had hidden behind. Your breathing labored as you held your clothing up to your body as best you could to conserve what was left of your modesty.

“I won’t hurt you.” Hanta called out to you, his voice soft to not further spook you “And I won’t cause you any harm, I promise. I just think you are the most beautiful maiden I have ever seen; so won’t you please come out and talk to me? For just but a moment?”

You glare at him, eyes holding suspicion over his claims. Though you finally relented when you watched as he stepped closer and closer to you, in your ever-vulnerable state.

“S-stop! Please stay where you are…” You called out, voice losing strength as you continue to cower away from him “I will speak with you, only if you promise to turn your head away and allow me to get dressed.”

Hanta gave a small smile, hands clasping behind his back as he turned his body away from you; making sure to keep his head and gaze straight ahead of him, to not make you suspicious that he was trying to catch another glimpse.

“Did you not like them?” 

His question startled you, a small gasp slipping out as you stumbled with your garment; almost tripping over your own feet. You took a deep breath to regain some level of composure as you shakily slipped your legs through the gathering.

“I am not sure what you mean…” You pulled the fabric upwards, placing the final strap over your one shoulder; your eyes never straying from the back of his head.

“The gifts.” He replied, “I have given you plenty, but it seems that lately, you have not accepted any. I am wondering if you did not like them.”

“Oh, it was you…” You made your way from out behind the tree, the movements being heard by the man before you as he finally turned back around to face you.

He was taller than you by a far margin, one that kept growing as he made his way towards you; his steps were careful to show he was not to harm you. When he finally reached you, he crouched down as close to your level as he could and clasped your hands in his, gently squeezing them in his hold.

“I am.” His voice was but a whisper as he pulled you closer, trying in vain to get you to look up at him, wanting nothing more than to gaze into your beautiful eyes.

“Then you should know why I did not accept them” You voice soft but strong, as you turned your head away from him “You are a god, the gifts you have given proof of that. And from all the tales I have heard and seen, all a god does is take the chastity of nymphs before casting them aside.”

“How could I ever do that to you? I would never do that to you. In my eyes, you are far too lovely and beautiful to ever just be cast aside.” 

He heard you scoff, head moving away from his deft fingers as they tried to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear, clearly not believing him. His actions just displayed proof of why you were untrusting, and so he would have to use his sweet words in a different manner.

“In all truth, had I not come down this very night to see you, I am sure my brethren would try and take you away.”

You stiffened in his hold, fear gripping your being at his words. Frozen in place you finally allowed him to move your head up to look at him, into his dark eyes that told you what he said was true.

“W-what…?” Your voice was shaky, as was your body when you continued to scan his face for any semblance of trickery; only to still find none.

“My fellow gods, the ones I call friends from time to time, they heard the stories of nymphs in the mountains that had caught all sorts of mortals' attention.” Hanta began, “They were curious, and wanted to see for themselves just how beautiful you were. But my friends are more beast than gentleman; I fear of what might have become of you had I not scared them off.”

You collapsed into him, the shock of his words controlling your body more than your mind as you clung to his tunic. Though you could not see it, Hanta had an impish smile on his face as he comforted you; his hands running soothing patterns up your arms.

“But you needn't worry!” He pulled back to look at your face once more, squeezing your arms in comfort “I will protect you from them. All I ask is that you accept me, take my gifts, and allow me your company.”

“How… how will I know?” You looked back up at him, hands lowering from his chest “How will I know you are being truthful with me?”

“I am a God of Love, my dear,” Hanta fluttered the wings on his back to make light of that truth. “And as one, I never appreciated or cared for those that would take advantage of it; to abuse it and harm others with their lust. I can tell my friend's intentions are not pure, as I can with any being, and I cannot bear it if they were to harm a precious flower like you.”

Hanta watched you carefully. Watched how your eyes glanced at his wings, back to his face, and turned downcast once again as you took in his words. He has hoped the sweet words he was known for would work on you, to break down your walls to allow him in.  He had to hide the victorious smile from gracing his features when you gazed up at him and accepted his protection and his terms.

“Tell me your name” You mumbled, taking a step away from him. “If I have to agree to all of this, then please allow me to know the name of my protector.”

“Hanta, you may call me Hanta.”

Your head shot back up to look at him, eyes once again glaring at him as you took another step away from him “There is no god named Hanta.”

“None named for the mortals.” Hanta smiled, closing the gap between you once more “None of us gods are ever named what mortals claim we are, even in their stories. Our true names are only spoken and used amongst each other, in the heavens. Only you, in this mortal realm, shall have the knowledge and privilege to call me it.”

“Hanta.” You whispered out, nodding your head in agreement with his words.

“Good, now be off.” 

It took all of his strength to step away from you; not wanting to be away from your warmth now that he finally had it. But he did. Only if it were to prove to you he was on your side, that he wanted to protect you.

He watched with bated breath as you scurried away, back to your home. Only allowing himself a breath, and a mirthful smirk to appear, once he knew you were too far away to see it. His wings stretched out behind him as he took flight back home.

His meeting with you went far better than he ever planned it. And now he had plenty to dream of that night.

~~~

It was rare for the God of War to come to the mortal realm.

Especially seeing as there was no war to be had. No fight to participate in, no blood for him to shed, and no victory to be won for him once all the dust and debris settled. And it was even more rare that the God of Strength would follow alongside him into this plane when there was no battle to be had.

But there were never ones to turn down a mission.

Their pride and honor to strong within them to let a challenge go to the wayside simply because they thought it was stupid, pitiful, or a waste of their time. And though Katsuki thought what he was doing here, what he was about to do, fit into all three categories he simply could not tell his friend no.

Hanta never asked for much, especially from him. And Katsuki had to admit that his fellow friends served him very well in battles of past; always fighting on his side to help him claim his victories. So, he could swallow his pride for a moment or two so he can fulfill a small favour in return to the larger ones he was in debt to.

It wasn’t like he had much of a choice either.

“Why are we doing this again?” Ejirou asked, scooting himself closer to his friend while still staying crouched behind some foliage.

“Because Hanta asked us to.” Katsuki mumbled, huffing out his answer as it wasn’t the first time he was asked.

“But it doesn’t seem right, doing any of this. And you normally don’t waste your time on such trivial things, especially when it comes to beings like nymphs, so why are you here? And why did you drag me into this?”

“Because!” Katsuki hissed, baring his teeth in warning “Hanta asked for us to do this! And the last time I refused that bastard made it impossible for me to be intimate with anyone for over 200 years!”

Katsuki huffed, watching his friend eye him warily before shifting slightly away, the action making him slump his shoulders in slight defeat. 

“Listen. I don’t want to do this either. If I had it my way, we would all just leave these two idiots alone for the rest of their lives. But Hanta seems to like one of them, and we all know there is nothing we can do to stop him.”

“You’re right….”

Ejirou mumbles that last part, knowing that his friend was right. There was no way to change Hanta’s mind once it was set on something, much like it was impossible to change any of their minds. They were gods, and they were selfish. They took what they wanted and when they wanted it.

It was just that both of them were unnerved at the taking of a nymph away from the place they were bound to. Something that was never meant to be done. When they were created they were made to be invariably bound to the mortal realm, to avoid any chaos that may happen if they were to come to the heavens.

Hanta was playing a risky game, and though they trusted he would play his cards right, and well. They could not be sure that his actions would not cause a ripple effect that would turn into a grand-scale fight amongst them; like the choosing of the fairest once again.

Though they had no time to further delve into their thoughts on the matter, not when you and your sister had approached where they were hiding. Your giggles filled the air as you came into the springs once more; wanting a dip in their cool waters to help quench your thirst and cool you from the warm summer rays.

Both men tensed, breath hitching in their throats as you both started to slowly undress; taking off your charms and jewels, and placing them into neat little piles by the water's edge. Katsuki hated that you were lovely, hated that the stories of you both were true; for if they weren’t he would be able to justify what he was about to do as some sort of favor - to save those travelers all that time from trying to seek out a creature that turned out to be hideous.

Eijirou hated what he was about to do because you were so beautiful. Hated the fact that he would have to scar and torment such enchanting creatures for the sake of his friend; for if it were up to him, he would just bask in your glow until he was satisfied, and leave this place with a beautiful memory to last him eternity.

But it was not up to him, nor his companion next to him; and with deep, quiet breaths they both solidified their resolve and stood from where they once were hiding. 

The startled gasps, the scrambling, and the screaming were all something they loathed to hear from you both as they made their way over to where you were. They hated how they had to play the part and chase you both down, to separate the both of you to further petrify you both. How they had to watch you stumble and fall, to scratch your perfect skin on tree branches and rock as you tried to get away from them; all of it.

They hated all of it. 

But once they watched the pair of you rush into your home is when they stopped their chase. Made it seem like they had lost you somewhere within the trees; mumbling to each other how they would just come back another day before walking off, back to where they once were.

Sickness, that was all they felt at the bottom of their stomachs as they returned home. This victory was not like the one found in battle. Not one filled with glory and blood and sweat. This one was hollow, shallow as its waves crashed down upon them in a way that made them feel uneasy.

It was not the first time they chased a maiden down in hopes to garner their sweet bodies as their rewards. But somehow it felt like it was, and they could not look upon their friend when they told him of what had just transpired; couldn’t bear to see the glee in his eyes when he heard it all.

~~~

You both had not slept that night, for how could you when the one thing you were most afraid of happening to you, happened.

So, when Hanta visited you the next morning you couldn’t help but run out to him. Sprinting through the field of tall grass and throwing yourself onto him; clinging to him like he was the other tether keeping you to the ground.

“You cannot leave us again!” You cried out, tears flowing freely from your eyes and soaking into the cloth of his tunic “You cannot leave me again! Please! You cannot, not again!”

Hanta had to hide his smile, one that was filled with so much joy and satisfaction, from you as he further buried your head into his chest—allowing himself this moment to hold you close and shush you, to try and calm his body down and act the part of a confused and concerned friend.

“What has you so upset, my beloved?” He asked, pulling you from him to gaze upon your face, to allow you to see his concern for you. “What has gone wrong?”

“Y-you were right!” You wailed, unable to hide your sniffles and sobs as you spoke “T-they came! Y-y-your friends! They tried to take us!”

“Shhhh…” He cooed softly, pulling you back into him to try and calm you down “I know you must be terrified right now, but I’m here now. Nothing to worry about.”

“But you’re not always here!” Your voice was muffled due to your position, as you brought your arms up to dig into his side “You weren’t here yesterday! And that‘s when they came! You promised you would protect me!”

Hanta would admit, he hated seeing you cry. Hated hearing the way your voice, one usually filled with cheer, sounded so broken; so miserable. And he hated knowing he was the cause that set in motion the event that shook you to your core.

But it needed to be done, you needed to see how important he was to you. Needed you to see that your place was to be by him, that was where you were meant to be. 

“I am trying to protect you, my honeysuckle…” Hanta brought a hand up to pet your hair, “But it is difficult for me to be in two places at once. My home is in the heavens, it is where I am to fulfill my duties to the mortals; it is rather difficult for me to make these trips to you as it means neglecting what I am meant to do. Unless....”

He let it hang in the air, a pregnant pause for you to become curious about what he might say. He knew he had you when you lifted your head up to look at him once again, repeating his last word back to him.

“Unless…” Hanta sighed, “Unless you leave with me, and come to live with me in my domain. Only then can I assure your protection.”

He knew you would not like his answer, especially as he saw new fresh tears starting to fall from your eyes, staining your cheeks with their hot streams. He cupped your face in his palm, wiping them away as he tried to comfort you once again, playing the part of a torn man in a tough situation perfectly, as he tried to reason with you.

“B-but my sister!” You babbled, head shaking at every word he was saying “I cannot leave my sister behind! I won’t do it!”

“Your sister can find solace in the mountains if needed! An anthousai is bound to meadows and fields! You cannot find that there, cannot find safety anywhere but where I can protect you!”

“B-but...”

“I know that it is a difficult thing to accept, a difficult choice you must make. But if you want the protection I can provide you must leave with me. I can promise you that nothing will harm you; not a finger to be laid on your skin while you are within my domain.”

You sniffle, looking into his eyes once more; to see if there was any trace of dishonesty within them. And, like always, there was none. With a shaky breath, and a nod of your head, you stepped away from his hold to walk back to your home to say your goodbyes.

Your feet felt like lead with every step. Your heart ached at every flower, leaf, and blade of grass that you passed for you knew it would be the last time you saw it. And as you made it closer and closer to where your sister was, to the home that made your heart feel warm. 

Now it filled you with sorrow and dread, as you wondered if you would ever again feel the kind of happiness you felt when you first stepped within these walls. Wondered what would become of your sisters once you left this place for good. You hoped for nicer and better things, better companions, but your heart could not promise you such things, your mind could not ease its worries. 

You couldn’t speak when she opened the door, asking you what was going on. All you could do was pull her into you, hold her in your tight grasp as you whispered how much you loved her. How brighter sunrises were upon her horizon, and how you would miss her so.

She watched you walk back down to him, your body shaking with the violent sobs coming forth. Watched as this man, this god, took you back into his arms and shushed you; claiming you down and whispering what she could only assume was sweet nothings to you. 

She watched as you turned back to her once more. A broken smile, one that looked more like a pained grimace, appeared upon your lips as you brought a weak hand up to wave your last goodbye to her. A goodbye she never envisioned ever happening.

And then she watched him take you away; forever.

~~~

Hanta’s home was beautiful.

It was filled with golden pillars and furniture. Marbled rock adorned many surfaces, with plush pillows and linen upon beds, lounges, and chairs. You knew they would feel like clouds, be the softest things you could ever lie on. 

But at this moment you couldn’t care for how soft anything felt, how plush and inviting the comfort was as it sank perfectly when your body had collapsed on top of it. Or how inviting it was to allow your body to enjoy it all, to allow it to lure you into a wondrous sleep.

No, for at this moment you were mourning the greatest loss you could possibly think of.

Hanta was kind enough to sit next to you through it. A hand running soothing patterns up your arms, your back, and even your hair as you cried out in anguish; never saying a word. Only murmuring out to you, after what felt like days of sobbing, to rest your head; to let yourself enter the land of dreams, and for Hitoshi to guide you to a sweet one.  And you could not stop your body from finally agreeing. 

For you would need your rest. 

Hanta had waited long enough to finally have you here with him. He adored that you always believed him, that your naivete allowed you to trust him and his sweet words. To allow him to take you here, to the one place where you will never be able to escape him; for once a nymph was the enter the realm of the gods, she would lose her ability to transform - for how could a nymph become a tree, or a flower, while in the heavens?

They couldn’t. And now you were forever at his mercy. Forever to spend your days with him, indulging him in whatever splendor he wanted from you; for he was kind enough to indulge you for the months it took to woo you, it was only fair to pay him back in kind.

You, the sweet little anthousai. One too blinded by the God, whose sweet words and flattery made you melt, to notice that he had other titles too; that treachery and deception and craftiness came hand in hand with sweet nothings and empty compliments.

And oh, what a crafty web he had spun for you. The one who laid so sweetly upon his bed.

The one who called to him like a lost and sad child when you finally awoke. Your big eyes stared up at him, as you asked him for some food for your hungry tummy and something to quench your dry throat.

And who was he to deny someone so precious? A sweet little thing that asked him so nicely? He couldn’t and wouldn’t, and so he went to fetch you some of the finest fruits and ambrosia to nibble on as you tried to awaken your tired body. And wine, his special and most favourite wine for you to sip on.

When he held out the goblet to you, you hesitated; your arm halting before it could reach the drink. “I-it’s pink…”

“Yes, yes it is!” Hanta couldn’t help but laugh at your obvious statement, enjoying the way you eyed the pink liquid that seemed to swirl within its confinement with a mind of its own “A special kind of wine, the only kind reserved and enjoyed by the gods.”

The way you looked at him, eyes still showing trepidation over what he was offering. He couldn’t blame you for it, someone like you would not know the type of splendors the gods enjoyed from day to day; you were but a humble and simple thing.

Hanta shrugged his shoulders, bringing the goblet to his lips and taking a gulp of its contents. “Look see? Nothing wrong with it at all! Just a sweet wine, one that tastes like wild strawberries.”

He smiled when you finally relented, a sheepish smile gracing your own face when you finally accepted his offer; almost like you felt silly for doubting him in the first place. But again, you were just a sweet simple thing. How could you have known that gods are immune to the effects of aphrodisiacs?

How could you have known what they would feel like once they had taken hold of your body?

You couldn’t. And when you felt your breathing become labored, your body started to sweat as your heartbeat quickened, and for a strange heat to enter your belly; you grew scared. Wanting whatever heat that had entered you to subside and allow you to breathe; to allow the aching you felt to stop.

Hanta watched with mirth from the corner of his eye at you. Watching how your body squirmed and shifted, trying to get comfortable but never succeeding. Trying to ease your discomfort but failing to do so, not knowing how.

“Honeysuckle, are you alright?” He asked you, moving aside the platter of fruit to shift closer to you.

“I-I feel funny…!” You mumbled out, hand grasping around the wrist trying to check your temperature; unable to help yourself as you pulled him closer to you “I don’t know what’s wrong!”

You wished you could stop yourself, and show some form of modesty and restraint. But your body was on fire, and your mind had no way of stopping it from acting on its own. You clung to him, yet again. Though this time you had climbed into his lap, your hips stuttering as you inadvertently ground your lower half onto his leg.

“Funny how?” Hanta asked, eyes turning dark with lust as he watched you try to relieve yourself upon him so shamelessly, it made blood rush to his cock as he had to hold your hips in place; to help ground himself.

“I don’t know!” You whined, nails digging into the muscles on his shoulders - wishing he would allow you to move your hips again “I feel warm and funny, and it hurts!”

“It hurts?”

“Mhm!” You nodded, head ducking down to rest against his chest as you panted heavily, trying to get a level head once more, but failing miserably “I don’t know what to do!”

“I can help you” Hanta murmured, taking some of your hair and pushing it aside so he may be able to kiss along your neck, smirking when he heard you whine at the contact “Will you let me help you?”

You frantically nodded your head, but he tuts at that response; teasingly squeezing your hips in his gasp “Ah, ah, ah, I need you to say it love.”

You moved your head back up to look at him, and he relished the frustrated tears that were now forming in your eyes. The way your lips formed a pout, made them look more plush and delectable to try and bite and suckle on.

“Please help me Hanta” You whimpered out, unable to resist pushing yourself closer to him.

“Say that you’re mine, and I will give you everything you could ever need.” He baited, wanting to hear even more of your sweet voice.

“I’m all yours…”

You were going to say more; going to beg him further to finally help you; to ask him to stop prolonging your suffering. But you were silenced when you felt his lips press into yours. Felt the way they moved against yours, trying to get you to follow suit; which you do after a moment with fever.

You could help the moan that was muffled between you when you felt his tongue peak out, running along the bottom of your lip. You wished you knew what he wanted, you would be more than willing to give it to him. But Hanta seemed to understand this, and he moved your hips against him, allowing you to feel the hardness underneath. The gasp you let out was short-lived, as his tongue plunged into your mouth, exploring it slowly and expertly.

All you could do was melt into him; melt into his touch and the way he was kissing you. He left you breathless, panting hotly into the air when he finally parted from you; unable to keep the smirk off his face when he saw the blissed-out look you had acquired.

Hanta loved hearing the small gasps and whines you would let spill forth from your mouth, almost like you were unable to keep them hidden, when he started to kiss down your jaw. Moving slowly down your neck, leaving little nips to see your jump in surprise; your sweet little mewls going straight to his length that he was slowly rocking you onto

He was taking his time with you; he had waited so long just to have you at this moment and he wasn’t going to rush it; even if it was tempting with the way you kept pulling him closer and calling his name so sweetly. But he knew he needed to do everything right, everything perfectly, so you would crave him. Want him like this all the time.

He slowly pushed your shift down your arms, lips following closely behind his hands; to slowly caress and kiss every inch of skin you had allowed him to see and look upon. And what a sight you were to see; to him every inch of you was perfectly crafted and made him that more elated that you were all his.

“I know…” Hanta cooed, lips lavishing the skin of your breasts, fingers gently tugging on your hardened nipples “I know… it is uncomfortable. But let me take my time, love. I promise you it will be worth it. Let me worship you like you were meant to be.”

You jumped, unable to help yourself from placing a hand in his hair, tugging it harshly, when Hanta’s fingers brushed against your folds. He groaned, both at your harsh tugging and at how soaked you had become; just over some heavy petting.

Though, the feeling was foreign to you; one that kicked your senses into overdrive. You couldn’t help but clamp your legs shut, effectively stopping his hand from continuing, at the sudden and unfamiliar feeling.

“My love,” Hanta cooed, gently pulling your legs apart, “You asked for relief, and I shall give it to you. Put your trust in me, I can assure you it will feel good.” 

He placed reassuring kisses along your chest, slowly petting his free hand up and down your thigh to help calm you; to help relax you and allow him access once again to your dripping cunt.

You sigh out after a moment, trembling legs finally parting for him, freeing his hand once again. Unable to help yourself from keening at his long fingers as they slowly started to up and down your folds. Being careful at where to touch, looking at your face to see which spots you reacted most to; centering in on them to hear you cry out for him. 

Your little bundle of nerves is where he narrows in after he accidentally brushed against it; the way you moaned his name made his whole being shudder - wanting to hear you say it again and again and again. Wanting to watch you writhe and whine atop of him as you finally come undone by him.

You gasped, legs trying to close once more but unable to do so by a hand holding a thigh in place, when you felt his fingers start to circle your entrance, the one place that has never been touched or breached.

“Just breathe, I need to properly prepare you, my love.” Hanta groaned when he felt your quivering hole clench around nothing at his words “I promise you this will be just as good, if not better, than what I have already done.”

He truly had the hands of a god, the way they so delicately entered you; stretched you in such a way that you had no choice but to moan out for more. You never could have imagined this feeling, even in your sweetest dreams. 

And it was accompanied by his words. Oh, how you could listen to him forever with the way he was groaning and purring our praises. Telling you how good you were doing, taking his fingers so well. How beautiful you looked like this, how he couldn’t imagine a more beautiful sight. And for you to come undone, allowing yourself to feel euphoria and grant him the chance to see it.

Who were you to deny such a tempting offer?

You were such a sight to behold. The way your body trembled, legs buckling as they struggled to hold your weight, hips unable to stop jerking away from his touch by still trying to keep the beautiful friction all the same. The way you cried out his name, unable to stop chanting it as you tried to breathe at the same time.

Hanta couldn’t help but push you down on your back, to hover over you as you tried to gain some semblance of thought once more. Hastily unrobbing himself, hissing when his cock was freed; having to take a deep breath and he stroked himself a few times before placing the blunt head at your leaking entrance.

“W-wait!” Your mind snapped you back into reality so quickly, you almost felt lightheaded “Hanta please wait!”

“For what?” He panted, hands gripping under your knees to lift your legs higher, “You are ready for me, my sweetest, and this will finally make all the unpleasant feelings disappear.”

“M’afraid!” You whimpered out, feeling the entirety of his length move between your folds as if to try and entice you once more; and the heat within you was proof it was working “Afraid it will hurt”

“You need not worry,” He purred, thumb rubbing little circles by your knees as he drank in the sight of you almost folded in half; how complacent you were. “For a moment it will, but only a moment. Then it will start to feel heavenly. Trust me, for I have not lied to you yet, have I?”

You shook your head, the action saying what you wanted to say - as words were failing you. He was right, he had always been honest with you, and even now he had shown you patience and pleasure beyond your wildest dreams. So why doubt him now?

He started to sink into you, after you had asked him to do so. Hanta let out a long groan as he felt your tight walls clamp down on him, both in trying to prevent him further but also milking him for everything he had to offer, and inch by inch he carved his way into your heat.

The burn was as he claimed, painful. But once he was fully sheathed, that burn began to change from that of pain, to that of wanting pleasure. The agonizing heat that had come from nowhere was coming forth once again to consume you in its agonizing flames. 

“Hanta, please!” You cry out, hands reaching out to grip where his sat on your legs “Please move! Make this feeling go away!”

He was never one to say no to you. He nodded his head, taking a shaky breath, before slowly moving his hips; taking his length almost completely out of your weeping cunt, before pressing it back into you. Watching your face carefully to see if any discomfort could be found.

When your pinched brows started to relax, your breathing changing from pained chirps into those sweet breathy moans, and when you start to cling to him once more - nails finding purchase into the skin on his arms - does he pick up the pace.

Though, Hanta knows he will not last much longer, not when your warm heat clings to him so tightly, begging him to claim what is rightfully his and paint your pretty cunt white with his seed; he knows he must first have you cum around him. To selfishly feel your messy cunt spasm around him like it has never done before.

He brings one of his hands from where it was placed on your knee downwards to your bundle of nerves, moaning when he feels you instantly tighten around him. 

“Come on, my sweet love” He pants, hand rubbing messy, uncoordinated, circles upon it “Let go for me, please? Trust in your god, and let that coil within you snap. Make a mess of the both of us.”

You keen and whine, the pressure building to an almost painful level within you. Though the dam finally breaks when you felt his length hit a particularly sweet spot within you, one that had you seeing stars. Your back arched, as you felt your breath hitch in your throat; unable to make any noise as your mind and body ascended to that plane of euphoria once more.

Hanta could not help but follow suit. Only a few messy thrusts and he stills inside you, his grinding up against the swell of your thighs as he moans; painting your insides with his seed - finally claiming you, completely, as his own. After regaining his breathing, though not fully, and placing your legs back down; he starts to pull out of you. 

“No please!” You cry out, eyes turning glassy as you wrap your arms and legs around him once more “Stay with me please! I don’t want you to go!”

“I am not going anywhere, I promise” He smiled gently down at you, tucking your head under his chin as he pulled you to lay atop of him.

Hanta watched your breathing, watching you try and calm down. He cannot blame you for being so emotional, after all the highs the aphrodisiac gives are much stronger than anything you have ever been used to. 

He smirks to himself when he sees your breathing finally began to even out, sleep over-taking you in its grasp. For now, he finally has you right where he wants you. And now, thanks to that wonderful potion, you will never, or want to, leave him.

Much like a rose and its petals, once one is swept away by the wind it is gone; forever. You were his rose petal and he was the wind that snatched you away.

[mossy123302]

I am not exactly entirely good with character or relationship analysis (A reason why my dumb fox head is aroace because I am not good w/ navigating romantic relationships)

So this is just my best effort writing the dynamic Q! Philza and Q! Missa have.

I do like to headcanon, like others, that Philza is indeed aroace, but not in a way, that like he doesn't understand what platonic or romantic means. Sure, it's funny to tease Philza about it, but it's also true that close friends could very much do so. I think Philza is quite aware of what is romantic and platonic, he knows the boundaries of it. I mean Philza is literally married to the Goddess of Death (implied) Kristin. It's more or less that Philza doesn't simply care for such labels. (I very much hc that Philza could probably be genderfluid, like me- Peeposmile)

It's something Philza even mentioned in the live stream when talking about the deities in hardcore world. It's something they don't care about and just vibe with whatever they're vibing with. They don't care and I think Philza is the same in that mindset. He just doesn't care, and will be blunt about it, if he needs to actually talk about it.

Philza seems to deeply cherish those that are ... similar to himself from what I can tell. I don't fully watch Fit or other POV to get a clear understanding of Phil's relationship w/ others so I'm sorry if I don't include them, same with Technoblade. I've recently started watching mcyt again and I don't want to talk about something I don't have a full understanding of.

Anyways, Phil deeply connects with those that share similar traits to him in some regard. Techno whose the Blood God, who clearly has an understanding of death, war and loyalty and this clearly shows via Missa too. Missa, while not a fighter, does understand death and how important it is... He literally is a gentle grim reaper. He understands death much clearly, because his mother is also a Goddess tied to Death as well. Missa is also fiercely loyal to Phil and his children, because honestly, he was so busy! He didn't have to return to Quesadilla Island but he did because he cares about Phil and his children, quickly adopted Tallulah and he hadn't even seen her yet.

Whoever Phil trusted and guards with his life, Missa will guard that person with his life as well. Of course, unless, we talk about BadboyHalo then that's another discussion LOL. Such a mess between the demon (?) and grim reaper.

Anyways, we know how much Phil values such loyalty that, I cannot remember what Tubbo said, but he immediately locked Tubbo out of his own home because of what he said about someone and while despite implied flings with others. Philza never spoke about others the way he speaks about Missa.

Their relationship definitely...crosses the line of platonic and romantic. I can see why it would be considered queer platonic relationship, but also at the same time, it's like there is some line being breached which makes everyone raise an eyebrow cause sir, what do you mean platonic-

Philza is clearly...possessive over Missa, because the way he got so defensive when Bagi mentions Antoine (right?) and Missa should date. Philza didn't have to get so defensive, because Missa already immediately denied. Philza could have kissed anyone else, like Fit, but chose Missa instead. He even demanded Tall Missa to the admins, got jealous over any shipping fanart and acts like he's fine and doesn't miss Missa at all. *Coughs in* "I'm going to f*cking off myself. Did Missa log on again?!" (Side eye Philza)

Like he's done lots of things that makes everyone just raise an eyebrow- Philza is fooling no one but himself (& Missa)

I also enjoy the lore Missa has going on with accepting that he is indeed a part of the family and isn't alone. Missa had just lost Spreen, and suddenly, he had no one but the Angel of Death as his assigned partner. Missa must have felt so unmatched compared to Philza because what could he even offer to the family? He had nothing but his music and kind words, which is everyone that Death Family wanted. Missa brought a different change to the family that makes them be vulnerable, to not be so serious all the time and to actually just relax and be like a family that's just on vacation.

I mean, and just talking about loyalty and kindness. Missa never gave up... He fought his way back, despite getting taken away by wolves and suddenly Badboyhalo being so cruel. He always made sure his family was safe and always brought something for them.

Didn't Missa say he got lost because he tried to find a gift for Philza?! Like...the commitment to find a perfect gift for Philza, and still returning (sure, without the gift). While it's hilarious, Missa doesn't run away because of his wet cat behavior. He runs away because he doesn't want to put his family in danger, he cannot fight as well as others can. He relies on others to fight for him and then he jumps in to help, but because the time zone doesn't allow such things. Missa is forced to run.

And Missa is good at it. He will run as far as he can, if it means his family will be safe. He isn't running away from his family, but the danger because at the end of it all, he will return back to his family, no matter how long it takes.

And Missa casually admitted to Chayanne that he needs Philza more than he realized, the same way Philza realizes he needed Missa but didn't dare admit, whether it is out of fear or something else that he couldn't voice it. But Philza clearly showed it through his actions, that he brought/dragged Missa to Rose's Sanctuary before they went to sleep forever. He didn't have to do so, but he did... indicating their bond is much deeper because Rose's Sanctuary is literally a pocket dimension that no one cannot access.

Missa has access. Now he sleeps eternally with his family...

Also their whole dynamic just being Sun/Moon. Fated to never see each other at times, until an eclipse and yet...they still leave signs to let the other know that they're still remembered. This also brought to my attention how Missa is afraid of the sky, while Philza yearns for the sky/to fly.

You think The Sun (Philza) misses the Moon (Missa) so much, because of how far they are, instead of just not seeing each other. The Moon clings to Earth, because they're afraid to go beyond...to something unknown while the Sun cannot stay still, and yearns to burn and be free.

Deathduo/Pissa has me on chokehold.

I do hope this was an interesting analysis, I'm not very good at this..honestly it's probably just me rambling if anything.

[specialagentlokitty]

Peter Hale x reader - as long as I’m not alone

Bolting up in bed, sweat poured down your forehead, your heart raced in your chest, and your breathing was ragged and you frantically searched the room for anything.

You found nothing out of place, and you slowly drew a deep breath, trying to calm yourself as you tossed the cover from off you.

Setting your feet on the cold floor, you slowly stood up and shaky legs and left your bedroom, making your way down the stairs of the loft and over to the couch where Derek was sat reading.

“Again?”

You simply nodded and he sighed, reaching out he wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you sat down, pulling you into his side.

“I’m sorry (Y/N), I really am. But we had no other choice, you know that.”

You simply nodded, because it was true and you knew that.

Derek had no choice when he killed Peter in front of you, for years you visited Peter, watching him just a shell of himself, then to find out he was the alpha killed people?

It hurt like hell, and then you lost him for the second time, this time for good, right in front of you.

“I can’t… I can’t stay here…” you whispered.

“I know, it’s why I packed your bags in your car when you went to bed…”

You nodded and he sighed heavily.

“Will you at least stay here tonight?”

You nodded, and Derek stayed up the whole night with you, watching crappy TV, and comforting you the best he could but he couldn’t do much.

Derek knew you understood why he did what he did, but he also knew that somewhere deep down part of you resented him for what he did, and he understood why.

When morning came, the gentle rays of sunshine hitting the window, you went upstairs to change and came back downstairs ti find Derek holding your keys.

“I’ll walk you out.”

“Thank you Derek, honestly. I’ve put the loft in your name, it’s yours now, okay?”

“Thank you.”

He walked out to you car, and you paused, turning back around to face his sad smile.

“I know you blame me (Y/N), and I understand.”

Reaching out, you gently hugged Derek, letting him rest his chin on your shoulder. Taking a deep breath, your closed your eyes for a second.

“I don’t blame you Derek, okay? You did what you had to do… it’s just.. I can’t… my whole life I’ve known you both…”

“I know… I know…”

You pulled away, wiping your tears with the back of your hand as you took a deep breath, smiling at him.

“You’ll come back, right?”

“I’m time, yes.” You nodded.

He nodded and watched sadly as you climbed into your car, he stood there, giving a small wave as you drive away.

He knew instantly where you were going first, you wouldn’t leave town without saying a proper goodbye to him.

You drove to the hale house, and slowly walked in, placing some white roses your brought along the way down on the floorboards.

Sitting on the dusty floor, you, placed your hand against the wood boards, fighting back the emotions that were trying to break free.

“I’m loosing my mind, this pain in my chest.. it.. it won’t go away Peter… it won’t leave…”

You let out a few tears, fiddling with the stems of one of the roses you had placed down.

“I can’t shake the nightmares… you were the only one who could calm me down… I need you here by my side…”

You sighed to yourself.

“Tell that you’re here now… tell me you have one more trick up your sleeve… just tell… just tell me fucking anything so I’m not alone!” You sobbed.

You waited, looking around, praying to every single deity you could think off that you were going to get some sort of reply.

That Peter was just going to jump out of the shadows and show that it was all just a plan he had.

But you got no reply and you buried your face in your knees as you sat crying for what you assumed was at least an hour.

When you were finally all cried out you looked down at the floor and leant down, resting your head against it.

“I need you Peter…”

With that, you got up and made your way out over to your car and drove away without bothering to look back.

You felt numb, even as you drove to your rental apartment in a whole new city, everything just felt so numb.

Empty.

You didn’t know what you were going to do, but you had enough money that Derek had given you. He said it belonged to Peter, and he wanted you to have it so you could get away from everything.

You kept in contact with Derek, calling him when he had the time to call, FaceTiming him when you couldn’t sleep and he came to visit a few times.

The months slowly slipped by, and you were finally processing everything that had happened back at Beacon Hills.

Sitting by a small lake, you were watching as the sunrise gently bounced along the small ripples of waves.

“Seriously (Y/N), you’ve been sat there all night, you must be freezing, go back to your apartment.”

Looking down at your phone, you shook your head a little bit.

“I’m fine, it’s pretty safe here actually, it’s just outside the city, practically had to fight my way through bushes to get here.”

Derek chuckled softly, shaking his head as he sat up from the couch and grabbed his phone as he started to walk around.

“I’ve got to go, pack meeting in five minutes, can I call you after?”

“Sure, but my phone might die. Tell everyone I said hi and that I’m okay.”

“I will, talk to you soon. And go home.”

You hung up and sighed, resting your chin on your knees as you carried on staring out at the water.

“He’s right you know, it’s cold.”

You screamed, jumping up you grabbed the gun from your boot and pointed it at the man approaching.

Your hands were shaking wildly, but even so, you knew you could land a solid shot, and so did he, which is way he stopped walking and raised his hands, giving you a small grin.

“You wouldn’t really shoot me, would you?” He teased a little bit.

You trembled, shaking your head a little bit.

“You.. you’re not… you’re not real… I just.. I just haven’t slept for so long I’m hallucinating…”

“Oh darling, I can assure you I am very much real. I can prove it if you’d really like. Just lower the gun, wolfsbane bullets have quite a nasty sting to them.”

You shook your head, keeping the gun aimed at him.

“You’re not him… you’re not Peter…”

“I am Peter, just lower the gun sweetheart.”

Peter slowly crept forward, and when you made no attempt to shoot him he took it as a good sign and carried on walking until he was right in front of you.

The barrel of your gun was pressed to his heart, but he stayed right there.

You closed your eyes and took a shaky breath.

“You’re not real… go away…”

“Look at me…” he whispered.

You didn’t reply, and he sighed, reaching up he placed his hand over the hand that was holding your gun.

His touch felt so real, so warm.

“I’m here…”

You shook your head, refusing to open your eyes.

“(Y/N), look at me. Just open your eyes okay? Open them and you’ll see I’m real, I’m here right in front of you, okay?”

You refused ti say anything back to him.

Peter slowly lowered your hand, taking the gun from your fingers he slowly lowered it to the floor and set it down before he stood back up.

Peter raised his hands to gently cradle your cheeks between them, running his thumbs along your skin.

“Say something…”

“I… I don’t know what to say…”

“Tell me that you love me, tell me that you hate me, scream, yell, cry, swear, curse, threat, anything. Just tell me anything so I know I’m not alone.”

You still hadn’t opened your eyes, and Peter sighed, kissing your forehead.

“I made a promise to you the day we got married (Y/N), I was never going to leave you, and I would always find my way back to you. And I did, it took a while but I found you.”

You slowly opened your eyes, gazing into Peter’s sad, soft eyes and you reached up, slowly pulling his hands away from his face.

You held his hands for a few seconds before you finally raised your hand, slapping him harshly across the face.

He yelped, jumping back as he cradled his cheek.

“Okay, I deserved that, I know I did. I swear I was going to find you darling, I looked everywhere for you, and Derek wouldn’t tell me anything. I found you because I realised he transferred you my money, and I followed your transactions all the way to the city. You live water, and this is the only lake nearby. I waited day after day for you.”

You shook your head at him, letting the tears fall free as you stared up at the werewolf.

“Peter I watched you die… I watched Derek slash your throat, and I held you as you took your dying breath…”

“I know… I’m sorry, truly. I never wished for you to witness anything like that. I wasn’t me, I wasn’t in the right state of mind.”

“Are you now…?”

You watched as Peter looked away, and you sighed heavily.

“Maybe not, maybe I never will be, but I don’t care about all that. I need you to know that I’m never going to leave you, even if you hate me, even if you want me gone, I’m not going.”

You turned away from him, going back to staring at the water.

You heard Peter walk closer, and he dropped his jacket over your shoulders, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he stood watching the water with you.

He watched to reach out, just hold you and never let go, but he knew better.

He had to wait for you to approach him, for you to process everything and finally tell him whatever it is you wanted.

If you wanted him to walk over flaming hot coals barefoot, if you wanted him to walk through hell, to eat mistletoe, sit in a field of wolfsbane, he would do it if you asked him to.

He needed you.

He needed you by his side, you were his sanity.

He couldn’t loose you, he couldn’t leave you, you were everything to him

[windvexer]

Hi I have two questions!

1. From one very powerful witch I’ve heard that making spell jars is shit cause when u add those ingredients they are going all to rot and over time make a hex out of it

2. I’ve been doing few spells with my deity lord Lucifer and although I know he’s with me and helping me, I didn’t feel much his energy help when it aimed to finalizing and making my spell more successful. How can I make him do more of the job instead of me? Since I felt me doing 95% him 5% and I want to make it 50% 50%

This is perhaps at best incomplete information.

Yes, it is a common belief that rotting or decaying ingredients are used in baneful work. But you should not be using fresh ingredients in container spells.

Dried ingredients, when properly stored, should last more or less indefinitely.

Also, container spells do not require degradable ingredients at all. You can make a container spell using only stones, or only sea water.

However, even if the ingredients in any spell end up rotting, that does not automatically turn the spell into a hex.

If the decay of ingredients impacts the magic, this can simply mean the spell is less effective or its power fades away over time.

It sounds like perhaps this very powerful witch may be getting their wires crossed with a popular way hexes are cast.

One way to work a hex is to place fresh ingredients in the ground (or a sealed container), and as the ingredient(s) rot, so does the hex begin to take place.

But it is incorrect to say that a methodology true for one spell is automatically true for all spells.

This is like saying that because I can use a candle to hex someone with burning flame, all candle spells are automatically hexes because fire is always ouchy.

2. I suppose you can request Lucifer do more of the job by asking him to do so, and paying him in kind with offerings. However, it is my experience that you can't really "make" beings of power do anything for you if they don't want to.

[tgrailwar-zero]

Servant Matrix: YIN YUANSHUAI

Class: Alter-Ego True Name: Yin Yuanshuai

Gender: Male

Alignment: Neutral-Balanced

Height/Weight: 129cm / 24kg (Child), 170cm / 64kg (Adult)

Source: Chinese Folklore/Legend, "the Investiture of the Gods"

Region: China

ENDURANCE GAUGE: [X/X/X/X/X/X/X/X]

MANA CHARGES: [ X / X / X / X / X / X ]

COMMAND SPELLS: [ X ]

In Japan, he is seen as a singular god (Taisaishin), whereas in China he is seen as a commander of many gods known as 'Taisui Xingjun'. In this summoning, he is closer to his Chinese divine incarnation, Taisui Tongling Yin Yuanshuai (Commander of the Taisui, Marshal Yin).

Perhaps he is classed as Alter-Ego because he sees him and the other 60 Taisui Xingjun as part of the same 'system' and therefore he is but one of many. Perhaps it's due to him being split between his 'older' and 'younger' selves.

Rather than being summoned to the Solar Cell due to being a Solar Divinity, he was summoned as a response to the increasing power of the Konjiki Hakumen (Golden White-Faced Fox). A defensive measure against the Nine-Tailed Fox's apotheosis. However, after a brutal attack, he was forced to split his body and revert into a form more reminiscent of his childhood self.

As a child, he encountered the Masters and their party, who took him in. A kindness that was seen as simply 'kind' by the young Yin Jiao and as 'reverently noted' by the adult Marshal Yin.

While Yin Yuanshuai is a gentle soul, that does not mean it is wrong to fear him. Those that offend or cross the Taisui will be faced with immense misfortune. His power as a Divine Spirit is immense, and he holds a strong mind for battle tactics and combat sense. It's just difficult to tell at times, as he has a quiet and aloof personality that is sometimes difficult to read or follow.

His child form is excitable and optimistic, enjoying exploring and learning new things. Perhaps this is what the human 'Yin Jiao' would have been like if the fox demon hadn't arrived?

Until he's able to return to the Port to regain his power, it is difficult for him to remain in his adult form for extended periods of time. However, he can fight in either form, though his true devastating divine might is best unleashed in his adult state.

Strength: A

Endurance: EX

Agility: D

Mana: B

Luck: D

NP: EX

SKILLS:

Divinity (A) - Taisui Tongling Yin Yuanshuai is a powerful Taoist God that was granted apotheosis after Taigong Wang's Investiture.

Magic Resistance (A) - Cancel spells of A-Rank or below, no matter what greater magecraft it is. In practice, the Servant is untouchable to modern magi. Due to training and battling with Xian and Spirits of the highest degree, his resistance to spells is almost immaculate.

Gods of Calamity (A-) - A skill that shows the Taisui Xingjun as deities that brings calamity. It was believed that any activity, such as civil engineering, done in the direction of any of the twelve zodiac Taisui was in that year would invite calamity. While this calamity can be reduced with worship, one does not want to clash with the Taisui Gods more than needed.

Shiròu (C) - Taisui is syncretized with Shiròu, a buried flesh monster, known for moving underground in response to Jupiter's revolution. If he's, say, found during a construction, it's believed that those who unearth him or build a house on top of him will suffer terrifying divine punishment. However, other texts mention that eating him doesn't reduce his volume and that eating him grants eternal youth. This skill is reduced in effectiveness and should only be used in a pinch… but the younger 'Yin Jiao' doesn't mind being eaten to help others.

Philosophy Key (A) - Being the student of one of the Twelve Golden Xian, he possesses a strong grasp of Philosophy Magecraft and possesses a Philosophy Key which he can apply to perform Xian Arts that rivals that used during the Age of Gods. While not as adept at magic as the Twelve Golden Xian, or even experienced Taoists such as Taigong Wang, he was one of Guang Chengzi’s best students, putting him on a similar level of many great Age of God magi.

Taisui Tongling (EX) - The great commander of the 60 Taisui Gods that rule over the Zodiac. A mixture of the Charisma, Tactics, and Valor skills. Additionally, the luck parameters of enemies can be lowered if they fail a check.

NOBLE PHANTASM: Bell of Falling Souls

A treasured weapon (paopei) which, when rung, causes the souls of others to fall off. Those that hear the bell are forced to make a ‘luck check’. If they pass, then they merely feel an intense gravitational force on their body which can (potentially) be overcome. However, if they fail and lack the proper Magic Resistance, there’s an additional chance for an ‘instant kill’. If they do possess the proper Magic Resistance, then they simply pass out for an extended period of time, leaving them exposed but alive.

NOBLE PHANTASM: Taisui Awaken

A Noble Phantasm that brings calamity to those that cross and disturb the Taisui Xingjun. Various proverbs throughout Japan and China still remain that warn others not to disturb the Taisui, and the divine punishment of the Taisui Gods is rightfully and immensely feared. Those that are reckless and overstep their boundaries regarding the Lords of the Year are heavily cursed.

[khaire-traveler]

Hi! Sorry to bother you, you can delete this ask if it will overwhelming somehow.

How do I become a good follower? Whenever I see posts about paganism and/or polytheism on the internet, it's people talking about receiving signs, how their Deities talked to them, how they feel them, and I don't get any of that and it makes me feel really bad.

Maybe there are some kind of exercises or something else to experience what all other people do? Do you have any advice?

Thank you, if you will answer this ask.

Hey, Nonny, thank you for your patience!

Most of the time, people on the Internet are exaggerating or wording things in a very casual way (when in reality, it looked a lot different or took a lot more work to figure out). Honestly, the best thing you can do for yourself - as a follower or even as a person - is try not to compare yourself to others. Practices vary wildly from each other, and what works for one person may not actually work for you anyway. Maybe your happiness will be found through other means.

Nonny, you're not doing anything wrong by not receiving/interpreting signs or whatnot. You're not a bad follower for not catching onto such things. I'm certain your deities wouldn't dislike you over something like that. It's also likely that they do send you signs, but you aren't used to interpreting them yet. Or maybe they're waiting for you to ask for signs! You're more than welcome to simply ask directly. I promise they're not as scary as some people make them out to be.

As for things you can do to practice, I'm honestly not sure. I'll try to provide some suggestions anyway, though. You could try deity meditations where you focus on the thought of a deity for awhile, maybe listening to peaceful music that reminds you of them. You could try identifying the "energy" of offerings you've given them, as those are likely to have the deity's energy on them. You could light a candle in honor of that deity and ask for them to increase the strength of their energy/presence while closing your eyes and attempting to focus on it. I'd recommend looking at my pinned post in the Deities & Entities section. I have a lot of more useful information there, most likely.

But I'll be honest and say that sometimes people are just headblind - meaning you can't really feel anything spiritually at all. There's nothing wrong with it if you are. I'm not saying that's an issue for you, by the way, but I think it's important to acknowledge the possibility.

I do also want to say that "talking with deities" is a very common thing I see on sites like TikTok, though, and I strongly advise you to 1. not listen to a damn thing you see on TikTok and 2. be extremely skeptical of the experiences people are willing to share online. Oftentimes, and I hate to say it, people tend to post such things for the attention they get. Either that, or when they say they "talked" to a deity, they really mean that they sat down and did divination or had a meditation. I say these things to make it clear that many of the things you'll see online are not 100% true to the way it actually happened. Sometimes people just make shit up, too; I see that happening constantly, especially on PaganTok and WitchTok. I cannot stress enough that you don't go there for genuine information. In fact, I highly recommend trying to read books on such topics rather than Google them or read about them online; that's where you'll find the best information!

But yeah, this is what I have to say: deities love us for who we are, not for someone we wish we were. They love us for the person we actually are, and in my experience, they enjoy it when we are ourselves in our worship. They tend to support authenticity. Instead of trying to be someone else, focus on who you already are, and the many strengths and talents that you may not even be aware of yet. Maybe you're amazing at different types of divination! Maybe you're fantastic at dream interpretation! May you're a wiz at bird identification (something I see a lot for deity signs)! Focus on learning more about yourself and less about others. You are talented, worthy, and powerful in your own way. And it's a beautiful thing to be you, to be who you are.

I hope this helped, Nonny! Please take care, and I wish you the best on your newfound journey. Have a good day/night. 🧡

[ornii]

—They will be Loved—

So after finishing the Multiverse of Madness film, I had an idea of a story where the reader is the Widow of Black Widow (see what I did there?) and is also the spirit of Vengeance because Ghost Rider needs an R-Rated MCU Film, and shares his grief with an also grieving Wanda.

Strange Had requested help with a “little” issue as he called it, little being an absolute lie since it’s dealing with the god damn multiverse, but you relented and agreed. It’s been, lonely since Nat left and the avengers are gone, it’ll be nice to at least get out of the house.

You rode down the countryside, the hum of your chopper in your ears and the wind on your face, you went to the orchad of Mrs Maximoff. it was often you did the dirty work of others. This one, was personal though. Wanda did some things many would consider simply evil, but it’s not always so cut and dry with things like this. The white petal orchard trees lined the side of the road and nearing her home, a voice of pure evil calls from the back of your head like a speaker.

“I sense immense magic here..” the Spirit of Vengeance, my others self you could say, was speaking to you

“Yeah, I felt it too..” You replied, I saw from the corner of my eye a woman grafting the orchard. You slowly came to a halt and halted your bike and kicked up the stand. Stepping off, you approached her, the warm scent of apple and grass felt so, human. And you haven’t felt human in a long time.

You get behind her, and she obviously senses your presence.

“Apples, right?” You ask, trying to break the ice with your old friend. “Nat would have loved it..” you start.

“Eventually.” Wanda replies in Jest, she turns to face you and you can see that her beauty hasn’t changed at all. Those beautiful eyes hold so much grief behind them. You nod, “It’s almost to good to be true, you know?” You say, trying to hint at Wanda.

“It's all very real. Thanks. I put the magic behind me.” She said to you, she walks off to continue pruning limbs and you casually follow her, “Well, I knew sooner or later you'd... show up, wanting to discuss what happened at WestView. I made mistakes, and people were hurt.” She said, the pain in her eyes, her power was neatly unmatched, and that lead to catastrophic consequences.

“I'm not here to talk about WestView Wanda.” You say.

“Then what are you here for?”

“Strange, needs your help.” You start.

“With what?” She inquired, you rubbed your chin trying to think of a way to explain. “You, ever come across the concept of, the Multiverse?” You said, Wanda didn’t look as confused as you thought she would.

“The Multiverse. Vis had his theories. He believed it was real. And, dangerous.” She drops the limbs into a crate and then gives her full attention to you.

“Well, he was right about that. From what he told me, he found a girl who can somehow travel across it but she's being pursued.” You say.

“Pursued by who?”

“Some kind of demon. From what strange told me, I’d go with Underworld Deity, a Trickster wouldn’t try to take her by force but trick her into giving her soul or powers away. Strange is ready to defend her, and we could use another Avenger.” You offer, trying to get a smile out of Wanda, she gives you a sad one.

“There are other Avengers, (Y/n).”

“Yeah but, it’s not really the same, besides between Clint, A Teenager webslinger, and …Whatever I am. We’re the best line of defense for her.” You explain, and Wanda poses a question.

“What if you brought America here?” She asks.

“Here?” You reply? And the spirit in your head also picks it up.

“She knows the name of America Chavez…”

“Yeah, she’s been stalking her..” you think, and Wanda goes on.

“Yeah. I know what it's like. To be on your own, hunted for abilities you never wanted. I can protect her.” She explains, you continue to look at Wanda, not saying anything as she realizes her slip up.

“..You never told me her name, did you?” She asks, now realizing she’s been had.

“No. No, I didn't.” You reply, Wanda sighs, and looks around. “You know, the Hex was the easy part. The lying, not so much.”

Wanda calmly moves her hand, which dispels the illusion and reveals the truly hellish world she’s been on, it’s blood red, mixed with such evil darkenss, no life, no trees, no happy little farm. And what stood there for you, was a Book. The, Book.

“The Darkhold.” You felt its eternal power reach out to you, ready to swallow you whole. You fight its call of power and hear Wanda.

“You've heard of the Darkhold?” She asks you, turning your eyes to her, you see her dawned not in regular civilian clothes, but that of the Scarlet Witch.

“it's the Book of the Damned. And that it corrupts everything and everyone that it touches. The Way Chthon intended it, it shows you falsehoods and a sense of power you will never control.”

“The Darkhold only showed me the truth. Everything I lost... can be mine again.” She said, somehow believing her own lies, you shook your head in disbelief, that Wanda would go so, far.

“What do you want with America? And What do you want with the Multiverse?” You demand, and she gives up her plan.

“I'm going to leave this reality, and go to one where I can be with my children.” She said, but you calmly countered.

“Wanda, your children aren't real. They were made from magic.”

“That's what every mother does. If you knew... there was a universe, where you were happy, happy with Natasha, with a family, wouldn't you wanna go there?” She asks you, and admittedly, she’s right. A simple life on the countryside, away from the Spy games and Occult evil, a world where you’re happy. Your anger slowly transformed into melancholic empathy, you frowned softly to Wanda.

“You know… Nat couldn’t have kids, so we considered adopting. It was the last thing we talked about. She really would have loved any child we had. I know it can’t compare to you and Viz though. It’s not enough that, In Many other universes, they’ll be loved?” You ask, Wanda’s walls come down for a moment and you saw the real Her. A grieving mother and widow. A tear comes down her eye, and she couldn’t reply.

“You’re right, I would love a world where I can be happy with Nat, love her, hold her… but in order to do that I’d have to kill a version of myself that’s happy. I can’t do that, I can’t kill a version of myself for my own happiness. If I did that, would I even deserve to be happy? Would you kill a version of yourself that’s happy because you’re not?” You reply. Just for a moment you saw Wanda’s eyes have a hint of remorse in them. “Wanda, what you plan do to will cause irreparable damage to our universe and the one you intended to murder and implant yourself inside, if you try to child's power, she won't survive.” You warn her, but it seems she unfortunately stuck in a fusion of corruption and grief.

“I don't relish hurting anyone, (Y/n). But she's not a child. She's a supernatural being. Such raw power could wreak havoc on this, and other worlds. Her sacrifice would be for the greater good.” She said, still trying to justify this absolutely diabolical behavior.

“You’re starting to sound just like Him, the same man who killed Vision and half of the universe.” You shake you Head, turning away from her to walk away.

“Strange killed half of the universe When he gave Thanos the Time Stone.” She retorts back to you. You halt in your steps and slowly turn back to her.

“He breaks the rules and becomes a hero. I do it and I become the enemy. That doesn't seem fair.” She replies, You Storm over, frustration coming to a boil, she could see it, the red burning flame in your eyes, the Ghost Rider.

“That was different, Strange gave Thanos the stone because it’s the only way in Fourteen Million outcomes that we beat Thanos. You want it to bring back children that don’t exist for you, Strange was Selfless, you’re just Selfish.” The venom in your words, they haunt Wanda, the growing disconnect between her and reality was apparent.. she shook off your threat.

“Return to Kamar-Taj, and prepare to hand over America Chavez by sundown. Peacefully. After that... You'll never see me again.” She bargains.

“And if I refuse?” You ask, and her sinister aura changes.

“Then it won’t be Wanda who comes for her, it will be the Scarlet Witch.” With those haunting words, she turns to walk away, you felt a blend of anger, sadness, grief all your own.

“Wanda..” you say, she stood still but didn’t turn to face you.

“I… I Miss the people that we used to be..” you say. Wanda gives a shaky sigh, you can hear her trying not to break down into tears.

“.. So do I Pral..” she mutters before leaving, as much as it tore you apart, as much as you hated it. This, could only end one way.

[butterfrogmantis]

Religion is a bit tricky in the Butterverse. Since humans exist, human religions exist, and some are even referenced through Smurfs and other characters. But unlike certain universes, there isn't one 'true' religion or god. Instead, there are 4 true deities - Mother Nature, Harold, Father TIme .. and Death.

Also CW for some messed up stuff right here

Mother Nature and Father time are pretty well known and honoured, even worshipped in some cases. Harold is looked to as the man in the moon as as symbol. Death is. An interesting figure. Smurfs - or any race for that matter - don't have a personal connection with Death the same way they might have a tea part with Mother Nature because seeing Death in of itself is an omen. And they sort of like it that way. Death is an enigma. Feared or respected, Death is neither kind nor cruel. It is simply inevitable. Indeed, it's the only true equal of the world. At least, for most.

Necromancer Smurf was born in an ancient village to a village doctor and a village mortician. Even as a child there was something a little bit different, he didn't talk for years after the expected time for the first word ceremony, didn't play with the other kids, and had an odd fascination with the gruesome elements to his parent's work, including the graveyard business. The Smurfling's father died unexpectedly whilst he was quite young, and even then he showed very little emotion to the loss of his father. He'd been in the room when it happened, supposedly felt the presence of an omnipresent figure. His fascination with the death itself far outweighed any grief he may or may not have had.

His obsession become more sinister - strange things kept happening. Animals going missing, random bones disposed of in the garbage around Smurf village. And as a teenager, the worst of all was uncovered. Necromancer was caught graverobbing at his father's burial sight - and when questioned, simply responded that he simply needed a body to work with, and his long deceased father clearly wasn't using his.

Necromancer was placed into solitary confinment, and his hut raided. The Smurfs doing the search told horrors of jars with organs, bones, someone's pet that had gone missing last week, clearly dead but somehow breathing … very unsmurfish things. The Smurf leader moved to banish Necromancer for good, but his mother, who had been suffering for years after the loss of her husband - and in spite of the horrors her son had committed, protected him best she could. Both of them became outcasts in their own society, but for Necromancer he didn't care. Perhaps his biggest mercy was when his mother finally passed a few centuries later, he left her grave untouched.

But his appetite for defying death wasn't through, not by a long shot. He could reanimate animals and even plants for certain periods but he needed something bigger, better. He knew the village would exile him as soon as he touched one of his own so he sought through records in the public library until he discovered, by chance, an old journal belonging to a pirate Smurf named Captain Bluebeard, amongst who's stories was a retelling of a great treasure heist, and a lift of a young pirate who was lost on the island and who's body wasn't recovered. This was the opportunity Necromancer needed - a deserted island and a lone body he intended to reanimate. This could be his finest hour.

-----

Short intermission now to listen to Rafflesia talk about the types of undead! :)

-----

*"You may not know me, Skeleton Smurf. But I know you - do not be afraid. Although the nature of your existance defies me, this was not your fault. My quarrel is with the one who's lifeforce sustains you, and in doing so has prevented us from meeting. In my kingdom, you were a worthy subject"

Skelly looked up at the empty eye sockets of the crow skull upon Death's face.

"I was in your kingdom? Then perhaps .. you could tell me who I was?"

Death sighed, seeming almost apologetic.

"I'm afraid … that might compromise your current situation. I do apologise, there's little in my power to help you as you are now. But that is not why I am here, Skeleton. I may no longer have the power to bring you back to my kingdom, but I am still a diety. And since you have been wronged in many ways, I would like a chance - however slim - to make it up to you."

Skelly looked curious, so Death continued.

"I am offering you a wish. A single wish, to be used at any time. Know that there are some things even outside of my power. But as long as holds, or as long as it takes, you have this promise"*

Skelly meets Death ,, part 2! They have a gift for him.

Death, Necromancer, Rafflesia and Skelly are mine / Franchise The Smurfs

[tempestgnostic]

The Werewolf: Archetype and Identity

Someday I’ll make a list of my alterhuman and otherhearted identities, but I’m not sure when that will be. For now, I’ll just talk about the the most prominent one: The Werewolf. I capitalize the name for both its significance and the fact that it’s an archetypal identity, so to speak. (I also use he/him throughout this essay, simply because I’m speaking of The Werewolf in relation to myself, and as myself.) I’m not a specific werewolf in any sense, and I’m not drawn from just one piece of folklore, or even one broad interpretation. It’s much bigger than that. Of course, explaining all the finer details would require an essay, and time is at a premium nowadays. Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit, and tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, I will be brief. Pay no attention to the appropriately-timed readmore.

Let’s look at an example of what I mean: the eponymous baron in Bisclavret is a specific werewolf, but he’s also one of many depictions of The Werewolf as a somewhat noble being who is wronged by others—in this case, his wife—as a consequence of his true nature. This “noble beast” interpretation can be contrasted with folk tales of feral werewolves who threaten villagers and fear neither torch nor blade. Werewolves aren’t solely monsters meant to inspire empathy or fear, however. They can also serve specific literary functions, often as symbols of broader concepts and experiences. The werewolf story can be used as a metaphor for a young person coming-of-age, a challenging tale of tangling with the darker aspects of human nature, or even as an exploration of queer identity and the liminal spaces we occupy. These are certainly not unique to werewolves, and the latter is especially common among other creatures embraced by the horror genre.

Each broad interpretation of The Werewolf feels to me like a part of my identity on some level. I’m the werewolf who feels guilty for the harm he’s done, who tries to resist his feral urges, but I’m also the one who embraces that side and indulges in it. I’m the werewolf who was born this way, the one who was blessed (or cursed) by some spirit or deity, but also the one who was bitten or scratched—forever changed out of cruelty, indifference, or even a dark perversion of love. The only bits of werewolf folklore I won’t engage with on some level are those from practices and cultures that are closed for me. They’re not mine to claim on any level—certainly not in any way that would be respectful.

Like so many in our community, my connection to The Werewolf is intricately intertwined with almost all other aspects of my identity. I’m genderqueer, yet I strictly use he/him pronouns. I have a beard—a thick one, at that—and a flat chest, yet I also identify myself as butch and sapphic. It’s been uniquely gender-affirming for me to have partners who identify as lesbians—to be fully seen and understood as butch. It would feel incredibly uncomfortable and even dysphoric for me to be with a straight woman. Even within queer spaces, at times I feel either gravely misunderstood or utterly invisible. I am, on some level, expected to conform, and my refusal to do so marks me at best as ‘confused,’ and at worst as a threat.

I embrace the androgyny in my voice and mannerisms, and I easily—often unintentionally—slip into different social presentations depending on who’s around me. (I’m also autistic, to no one’s surprise.) Code-switching comes naturally to me, likely as a result of having to cobble together adequate social skills over the course of a decade, but also as a matter of safety as a queer person who’s only ever lived in red states. The Werewolf is a liminal creature, existing in several different worlds at once and moving through them with varying levels of ability. I am no different—charming and quick to make friends when I know the social landscape, and terribly awkward and clumsy when I don’t.

In the interest of keeping this even remotely readable in one sitting, I’ll wrap this up here. The Werewolf can be a charismatic yet dangerous lover, a pitiful and wretched thing, a creature just beyond the veil of understanding, or even a kindred spirit. I am and have been all of these things, both in my external life and my mind’s inner world. I experience phantom and mental shifts, and I see myself in so many depictions of werewolves in media. This part of my identity plays a vital role for me in kink—though I’ll save the details for a properly 18+ post—in my relationship dynamics, in my pagan spirituality, and many other parts of my life. It fits neatly over my gender expression like a second skin and provides a backdrop for my social presence. I am The Werewolf As Archetype: a being representing liminality, transformation, and embracing authenticity—at any cost. It is a vital part of me, without which I would cease to be.

[redhoodinternaldialectical]

So, this of course isn't the way everyone interacts with religion, but for me faith is a white knuckled grip on the ragged, bleeding edges of the gaping wounds in one's psyche. Divinity as a leverage point with which to rip your very soul inside out looking for a transformative way to transcend mundane pains. Belief is just a matter of what you think is true, but the passion to throw one's whole selfhood into that worship thrives on struggle and tension and being just absolute hot garbage at some aspect of life and totally mentally/spiritually out of wack because of it.

Someone who's good at letting themself indulge in pleasures doesn't need to devote much thought to it, ya'know? They might like Bacchus, but I have trouble imagining it developing into intensity beyond that. However, someone who is exceptionally bad at letting themself have anything good, but who knows abstaining is harming them and desperately wants to learn how to indulge - now that's a guy who could go crazy attempting to touch and embody the divine force of inebriation and indulgence!!

So when choosing a religion for Jason I focus in on what he's struggling with and for me the obvious choice is the tension between different methods of resolving his past and his grief.

I think he understands that not letting go of the past is causing him harm. I think he does/would struggling a lot between feeling like pursuing closure is the correct method of untangling his attachments/traumas and feeling like his attempts to mend bridges and reconnect are simply self sabotage. He also seems to hold a tension between his moral beliefs about what needs to be done for the good of the world versus what ought to be done as justice towards himself. Like he flatly believes it is Morally Correct to kill the Joker, but refuses to do it himself because no one being willing to do it for him is an injustice to himself.

Hinduism fits that set of struggles best I think, in my admittedly limited knowledge. I feel like he'd get a lot of really meaningful stuff out of reading commentaries on the Bhagavad Gita and the Upanishads, and find himself wanting guidance from deities that offer release from attachments.

It's also got guidelines and concepts about when and why it's okay to kill that I think he could jive with. Now, Hinduism is insanely diverse and complex; do not get it twisted and start thinking I'm saying there's one simple rule here - but the concept of actions for their own sake, of never being entitled to the fruits of the action but rather only to the action alone, of killing purely when it is the right choice for the health of the world, and removing the internal desires from that equation... I dunno that feels like the kind of noble, unattainable ideal Jason would want to strive for while being just extremely fucking bad at it lmao

The only thing I think he really wouldn't jive with would be the caste system, but that's not a requirement for being Hindu. Nearly every believer has some widespread belief within their religion that they don't hold to. Perfectly reasonable to say this is an aspect he'd work around or simply ditch altogether.

So yeah I think I've convinced myself to headcanon him as some variety of Hindu forever