πŸ”ž c11tto

πŸ”ž c11tto



πŸ‘Ÿ is a minor god who rules over small villages and is well respected within the community. despite that, his past is nearly unknown to those who know him. 🦁 is a high-ranking demon who doesnt mind getting his hands dirty as long as he gets power.

he's lived for so long that he's accumulated a small following of demons and celestials. you could call him a king amongst hell. the heavenly officials have warned both celestial and demonic entities to beware of this man. any more devotees might lead to an imbalance.

though πŸ‘Ÿ was a minor god, he was very much powerful, and he didnt like sticking to the rules to a T... nor did he keep up with the heaven's gossip. so when he makes contact with 🦁, he's immediately curious about the strange man who seemed to carry an aura of lonliness.

🦁, "I'm surprised you haven't kicked me out of your temple yet." πŸ‘Ÿ looks at him with a curiously, "why would i? you haven't done anything wrong." 🦁 laughs uproariously, similar to that of a lion, "are you serious? you honestly don't know who i am?"

"does it matter?" πŸ‘Ÿ sounded so sincere that made 🦁 go silent, "as long as you aren't doing harm to me or my people, then i won't regard you any less than my followers." in 🦁 long life, this was the first time he was treated nicely by a celestial being.

there was no double-faced, backhanded comments. no underlying favors that needed to be returned. no nothing. just genuinity. after a while, 🦁 murmurs, "...can i come back again?" πŸ‘Ÿ, "of course."

🦁 comes back every week on a sunday without fail. πŸ‘Ÿ would always stand in front of his temple, happily waiting for him with a wide smile. despite 🦁's giant house back in the underworld, it could never compare to how πŸ‘Ÿ felt like /home/.

like returning to a comfy warm bed after a cold rainy night. like the spring that follows after the harsh winter. hell may be hot, but being with πŸ‘Ÿ was a warm embrace. after a while, 🦁 fails to visit one sunday. it's okay, πŸ‘Ÿ thinks, maybe he was busy. he fails again.

one week turns into a month, and then into a year. time was irrelevant to all immortals as they pass by in a blink of an eye. but for the first time, πŸ‘Ÿ could feel the slow drag of time as each second passed.

it wasn't until a fellow god visited his villages one day. πŸ‘Ÿ, "βœ’οΈ..." βœ’οΈ is a major god, ruling over poetry and an element. he comes down in gold, gaze hard as he stared back down at πŸ‘Ÿ. βœ’οΈ, "did you come into contact with 🦁?"

βœ’οΈ was a close friend of his, so being stared down like this was rather intimidating. πŸ‘Ÿ, "why?" βœ’οΈ, "did you know he's the golden king?" πŸ‘Ÿ, "...who?" βœ’οΈ could only grumble in frustration.

βœ’οΈ, "ghost king? harbringer of war? one of the four vices of the holy principles? does no name ring a bell?!" πŸ‘Ÿ, "...i only know 🦁 as 🦁. he never told me he was a god, but i knew." βœ’οΈ wasn't sure if he wanted to strangle or congratulate him for being out of touch.

with a low voice, βœ’οΈ mutters, "he's being sent to the underwater prison for trying to meddle with tbe heavenly officials." πŸ‘Ÿ stood, and for a peaceful god, βœ’οΈ was surprised to see such rage on his face. the sky boomed with unseen thunder as it darkened gradually. "why."

βœ’οΈ felt afraid. sure he's been around other terrifying gods before, but not to this... caliber. he takes a step back, raising both his hands as a sign of peace. "it wasn't my idea." he slowly says, "the higher ups deemed it to be." πŸ‘Ÿ, "why."

βœ’οΈ, "πŸ‘Ÿ... please calm down, and i'll explain everything to you. you're scaring your people." that seemed to snap πŸ‘Ÿ out of his trance, noticing the harsh winds that whipped around them as rain pelted down like cats and dogs. with a deep breath, the clouds slowly disappeared.

inside πŸ‘Ÿ's temple, βœ’οΈ explains who 🦁 was in its entirety. he explains that 🦁 was the cause of the great celestial war. he was once a darling prince of the heaven, now fallen from grace and ruled the underworld with loyal devotees. they are small, yet powerful group.

πŸ‘Ÿ, "...capable of starting a war?" βœ’οΈ, "the war wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for them." πŸ‘Ÿ, "something drove them to do it. it wasn't entirely their fault." βœ’οΈ, "however, you cannot deny their involvement. they were the main cause of the tragβ€”" πŸ‘Ÿ, "no."

πŸ‘Ÿ stands, his eyes flashing a myriad of colors, "he wasn't. you're mistaking him for someone else." it's βœ’οΈ's turn to be confused, "what? the scrolls wouldn't lie about our history. it was documented in thβ€”" πŸ‘Ÿ, "in the vault to the far east. guarded by a fox spirit, right?"

πŸ‘Ÿ is a minor god. while he has ascended to the heavens, it doesn't mean he had complete access to it. he'd need to become a major oneβ€” similar to βœ’οΈ. βœ’οΈ, "how... do you know what?" πŸ‘Ÿ easily ignores the question, "the records are wrong. they've mistaken 🦁 for someone else."

βœ’οΈ, "who... then?" for a split second, βœ’οΈ sees another version of πŸ‘Ÿ in different robes. his eyes were pitch black while his skin was an ashen gray. this wasn't the kind, benevolent god βœ’οΈ has come to know πŸ‘Ÿ. this... person reeked of death.

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