mpxzane
death is unkind
I’d say ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴀᴄᴋ
But you’ll ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ see it coming.
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simping softness prompts.
basically i got shippy and now there's these soft little prompts for romantic, platonic, and yearning situations!! use them at your leisure!
" you're shivering. here, take my jacket. "
" you... sorry, you just got a little something on your face... here, let me get it for you. "
" hey, so... i know you haven't been feeling great, so i picked up a few of your favorite snacks, drinks... "
" you stayed? "
" well, of course i stayed. you're here, where else would i be? "
" oh! i found this in the mall, i figured it might be something you'd like! "
" hey, everything's gonna be fine. stay where you are, i'm on my way. "
" wow... you look... you look amazing. "
" we should grab some coffee together, sometime. "
" holy crap, i thought you were dead! never do that to me again! "
" i made some breakfast, if you're hungry? "
" your hands are freezing! let me warm them up... "
" i knew you wouldn't go to sleep willingly, so i brought you some chamomile tea and a blanket. twenty minutes of shut-eye, okay? "
" it's okay. i promise you, i will be here when you wake up. "
" hey! hey, hey, it's alright! it's okay, my darling/friend/love, i'm here, i've got you... "
" i'll walk you home. "
" you need a lift? "
" i... sometimes, i guess i kinda wish you could see yourself through my eyes. "
" i see you still have my shirt! "
" i got starbucks. this is your favorite, isn't it? "
" you look like you could use a hug. "
" okay, quit it with the drinks. i think that's enough, hmm? i'll cover the tab, but for now, let's get you home... "
" i'm not letting you sleep on the couch. come on. get under the blankets. "
" i mean... i-i'm cool with sharing the bed if you are. "
" you were in a really bad way, i wasn't about to abandon you. "
" hey... you've been crying. "
" don't think i won't carry you if i have to! "
" of course i noticed. i notice everything about you. "
" i knew you wouldn't bring a jacket, so i made sure to color co-ordinate with you so you could wear mine on the way home. "
" please, talk to me... it kills me seeing you like this. "
" i got a reservation at that fancy italian place you like. come on. get ready, we can get there in time if we get dressed now! "
" he/she/they were an idiot. you're amazing, and if they can't see that, that's on them. "
" i'd happily go kick their arse, but i don't think that would help you. "
" you don't owe me anything. "
" i wish i could just freeze time. let this moment be forever. "
" i got you some flowers. but, if you have allergies, i also got fake flowers! just in case. "
" you realise you don't need to ask my permission, don't you? "
" what's mine is yours. always. "
" i don't know precisely what i did to earn your presence in my life, but... i'd do it a thousand times over if i knew what it was. "
" yes, these last few years have been a living hell, but... i'd live them a thousand times over if it meant you being safe and happy. "
" i don't care about everyone else! i care about you, [NAME]!"
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“ don’t you understand? i worship you. and nothing you’ve done, no matter how much of a monster you think you are, is gonna change that. ”
feels prompts: no longer accepting
"I don't have to think I'm a monster Camazotz, it is simply what I am and always have been." Zane stood in the center of the dark pathway of Central Park. It must have been almost four in the morning when the two gods ran into each other. "Your unyielding loyalty however, I feel is not something I deserve so easily anymore, dear friend. Perhaps you shouldn't place me on such a pedestal anymore. I am still your Lord but, I am not what I once was."
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“ what do you see when you look into my eyes? ”
feels prompts: no longer accepting
"A child." Zane shrugged before pushing his glass up the bridge of his nose. "If that wasn't the answer you're looking for... sorry to disappoint kid. Try one of the sappier gods that hang around." He continued to roll up his sleeves, revealing the multitude of tattoos beneath as he got to work reorganizing the shelves in front of him. "Did you want to buy something or were you looking for life advice?"
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Daniel Henney for W Korea May 2021. Photographed by Kang Hyun In
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“ don’t look at me like that. ”
feels prompts: no longer accepting
"Like what?" Zane pulled his gaze from Hel just long enough to nod thanks to the bartender that just topped off his whiskey. "Am I not allowed to look at the beautiful goddess sat next to me?" His scarred eyebrow lifted in question as he sipped from his glass, dark eyes amusedly watching her still over the rim.
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more prompts for your feels
“ what am i supposed to do when i can’t even trust my own mind? ”
“ i have to believe death is the end. because all that waits for me in the afterlife is a debt of sin i don’t think could ever be paid off. ”
“ what do you see when you look into my eyes? ”
“ it doesn’t always have to be you, you know? your shoulders aren’t the only ones that can bear the weight of the world. ”
“ i don’t think hearts break. shattered things can only be broken once. but torn things can be mended again and again until it’s all scars and stitching. ”
“ i can’t remember what it’s like to be truly wanted. ”
“ every time you look at me i feel invisible. ”
“ loneliness is a slow and cruel poison. ”
“ i’m afraid that if i let you see every side of me, you should shrink back in fear or disgust. ”
“ for once in your life, what is it that you want. ”
“ i’ve been wrapped in my sorrow for so long, i’m afraid i’ll feel too cold without it. ”
“ i just want to see you smile again. ”
“ can’t you stop running for one second? ”
“ i’ll be here. when you’re ready to talk. ”
“ being strong doesn’t mean never asking for help or admitting you’re in pain. ”
“ don’t shut me out. please. ”
“ don’t look at me like that. ”
“ the world isn’t made up of heroes and monsters. just broken people balancing between the two. ”
“ i just wanted to do something good for once. ”
“ why can’t you tell me what’s wrong? ”
“ just trust me. please. ”
“ why can’t you let me in? what are you so afraid of? ”
“ you’re so worried about losing me/them you’re missing everything in front of you. ”
“ i’m not leaving you. ”
“ you’re not alone. i’m here. ”
“ you see everyone so clearly except yourself. ”
“ don’t you understand? i love you. and nothing you’ve done, no matter how much of a monster you think you are, is gonna change that. ”
“ i find broken things interesting. maybe that’s why i like you so much. ”
“ i want to be whatever it is you think i am. ”
“ you see the good in everything. that’s why i like it when you look at me. ”
“ i’ll still be here when you wake. ”
“ i promise i’ll never hurt you again. ”
“ as long as i have you, the rest doesn’t matter. ”
“ what did they do to you? ”
“ i’m not sure i should leave you alone. ”
“ i won’t hate you. i know you think that’s what you deserve but it’s not. ”
“ i want to love the parts of you that you hate. ”
“ i’m scared of what you’re becoming. ”
“ i’m sorry, i’m not what you think i am. ”
“ you’ll always have a home with me. ”
“ what happened to you? ”
“ i thought i’d never see you again. ”
“ you’re such a fucking coward. ”
“ i envy anyone who has the privilege of being loved by you. ”
“ you scared me. ”
“ please, don’t ever give up on me. ”
“ i’m not giving up on you. not ever. ”
“ i know you love me. but it’s not the way i want to be loved. ”
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|| Daniel Henney 💕 ||
에르메네질도 제냐 Ermenegildo Zegna 50th Wool Award Bazaar
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[ sit ] sender sits in receiver’s lap
nonverbal meme prompts: no longer accepting
The clatter and chime of coffee cups and plates, whispers of chatter in several corners of the late-night cafe, filled the god’s ears as he brought his own coffee to his lips and flipped the page of his book. Normally, he worked best at night. The moon's light emboldened him with motivation and confidence, but instead, he wanted to relax this warm spring evening. That was until a stranger ungracefully fell into his lap, breaking him free of his mind’s eye that was indulged in the classic script held in his large hand. With a grunt, Zane adjusted and met the eyes of the goddess now resting in his lap.
As unceremonious and surprising as it was, Zane couldn’t help but chuckle. His lightly kohl-lined eyes crinkling slightly as the slight laughter met his cheeks. He could tell she was a goddess easily enough but he couldn’t remember ever meeting her before. With a gentlemanly hand, he steadied her by grasping her bicep as his low and sultry voice broke the awkward air around them.
“Whoa there, watch yourself. That was a bit of a stumble are you alright?”
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nonverbal meme prompts
↪ they seem few & far between, so i tried to come up with as many scenarios as i could think of where dialogue wasn’t a necessary starting point. some are more uh specific than others / drabble-y, but they’re all dialogue-free ( tho ofc this does not necessarily extend to the response itself ). to reverse who sends what, send ‘ [ prompt ]+ ’ ! alter any as you see fit, & lemme know if anything’s unclear ♡
[ pull ] sender pulls receiver closer to them
[ touch ] sender places their hand affectionately on receiver
[ guide ] sender helps receiver through a difficult video game
[ lean ] sender leans on receiver
[ pierce ] sender helps receiver with a new piercing ( doing, aftercare, etc )
[ sit ] sender sits in receiver’s lap
[ spar ] sender pins receiver down in a practice fight
[ cook ] sender makes food for receiver
[ slide ] sender pushes an item across the table to receiver
[ kiss ] sender kisses ( lips, cheek, forehead, hand, etc )
[ lead ] sender leads receiver someplace
[ wound ] sender injures muse in a fight ( practice or real )
[ snap ] sender takes a photo of receiver ( candid or posed )
[ drape ] sender drapes their arm around receiver’s shoulders
[ bullet ] sender takes a bullet for receiver ( literal or figurative )
[ nap ] sender falls asleep against receiver
[ teeth ] sender bears teeth at receiver
[ trace ] sender traces one of receiver’s scars
[ cocktail ] sender makes / gives receiver a cocktail
[ comfort ] sender comforts receiver when they are upset / crying
[ bouquet ] sender surprises receiver with a bouquet
[ massage ] sender gives receiver a massage ( planned, spontaneous, full body, shoulder, etc )
[ mentor ] sender takes muse under their wing
[ tattoo ] sender helps receiver with a new tattoo ( doing, aftercare, etc )
[ dare ] receiver acts out a dare from sender
[ hug ] sender pulls receiver into a hug
[ phone ] receiver sees sender smiling at something on their phone
[ popcorn ] sender makes popcorn for a movie night
[ wake ] sender tries to wake receiver
[ ��groom ] sender tries to make receiver look more presentable
[ flower ] sender places a flower behind receiver’s ear
[ sad ] sender looks at receiver sorrowfully
[ playlist ] sender curates a playlist
[ fashion show ] sender tries to help receiver choose an outfit
[ shield ] sender steps between receiver and danger
[ bandage ] sender helps bandage up receiver’s wounds
[ duel ] muses get into a fight
[ fear ] sender finds receiver having a nightmare
[ hold ] sender holds receiver’s hand
[ bruise ] sender finds receiver with a bruise / tries to help receiver cover up a bruise
[ brush ] sender brushes / styles / dyes receiver’s hair
[ portrait ] receiver paints a portrait of receiver
[ assist ] sender helps the receiver with a task they’re struggling in
[ wow ] sender does something to really amaze receiver
[ glare ] sender is still hurt after an argument
[ roast ] muses roast marshmallows together / make s’mores
[ shoot ] muses attend a game of paintball
[ diary ] receiver writes a journal entry about sender ( maybe they find it ? )
[ dance ] sender whisks receiver onto to ‘ dance floor ’ ( can be actual or pretend )
[ rest ] sender rests their chin on receiver’s head / shoulder
[ manicure ] sender paints receiver’s nails
[ tuck ] sender tucks in receiver’s shirt, hair behind ear, etc
[ chin ] sender lifts receiver’s chin up
[ lap ] sender puts their feet in receiver’s lap
[ write ] receiver writes sender a note
[ play ] muses play a board game / card game together
[ glance ] receiver catches sender looking at them
[ ill ] sender takes care of receiver when they are unwell
[ hearth ] sender lights a fire
[ tap ] sender taps receiver on the shoulder
[ bake ] muses bake together
[ read ] sender reads to receiver
[ study ] sender tries to help receiver study
[ push ] sender pushes receiver in anger
[ skill ] receiver tries to assist sender in learning a new skill
[ coated ] receiver finds sender covered in blood
[ gesture ] sender motions for receiver to follow them
[ downpour ] receiver finds sender out in the rain
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“No, no, no you’re going to burn it like that!”
cooking prompts: still accepting
“I know what I’m doing! Now sit down and drink your wine, you brat.” Zane placed a hand on Phobetor’s arm and pushed him towards the stools on the other side of the island in his sleek kitchen. “I don’t want to hear another word about my cooking or I’ll kick you out without dinner at all.” The god shook his head in frustration as he turned around and continued to chop vegetables and stir the pot that held his personal Posole recipe. He was really beginning to regret inviting Phobetor to taste on of his ancient dishes after they discussed food from their younger years once. There was a reason Zane rarely ever let anyone else in his home, and that exclamation from his “boss” was one of them.
“Now, how well can you handle spice Greek boy?”
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“How much spice did you add? I cant feel my mouth!”
cooking prompts: still accepting
“You children and your low tolerance of spice. Tsk, tsk, tsk.” Zane rolled his eyes as he brought another bite of delicious enchiladas to his lips. A soft sigh leaving him as he enjoyed the homemade treat he’d made himself. Once he’d finished he looked up form his place behind the counter of Sombra Muerte. “Perhaps that’ll teach you a lesson about being too curious, Chinsun.” The god raised his eyebrows at the demigoddess who’d asked what he was eating and he so graciously allowed her a taste only for her to exclaim so loudly in his quiet shop. He brought another bite to his lips and sat the plate on the counter between them, the leather of his arm chair groaning at his movement.
“What brings you into my humble establishment, this evening? Here for business or to browse my wares?”
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Daniel Henney, magazine Cosmopolitan Mayo
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all things cooking / baking … sentence starters
“Catch that, it’s boiling over!”
“How spicy can I make this?”
“You want to be my taste-tester?”
“Could’ve used more seasoning.”
“Do you need a hand with supper?”
“Everything’s better with chocolate.”
“Too many hands in the kitchen, out!”
“Want me to teach you how to make this?”
“Have you ever cooked a day in your life?”
“Oh no… it said teaspoon, not tablespoon.”
“No, no, no you’re going to burn it like that!”
“I never would’ve thought to bake it like that.”
“Just keep stirring ‘til your whole arm falls off.”
“Can you teach me how to cook this properly?”
“That’s so much icing. It’s like a tower of icing.”
“Salt is not a prime seasoning, you need more.”
“You don’t know the basics of cooking, do you?”
“That’s going to be so dry if you cook it like that.”
“Would you mind dicing some of those up for me?”
“There were supposed to be cookies, not charcoal.”
“I’ve never cooked anything this complicated before.”
“How much spice did you add? I cant feel my mouth!”
“I don’t know how you’re supposed to hold this knife.”
“You could give Gordon Ramsay a run for his money.”
“You’re actually tearing up… it can’t taste THAT good.”
“It tastes good, but the aesthetic could use some work.”
“I’m tempted to sign us up for one of those baking shows.”
“Come here, I’m going to show you how to plate this fancily.”
“Not even kidding, you need to open a restaurant, this is amazing.”
“Well, we’re out, so I guess we’ll have to make some substitutions.”
“I don’t think I should be trusted with the sharp things. Or the hot things.”
“They couldn’t believe it wasn’t made by professionals… you might need to bake more.”
“So, the grinder broke while I was seasoning, so now this has four ounces of pepper on it.”
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“We all have dark thoughts dear, some of us are just not as good at hiding it as others.”
tw: death, abuse, violence, drugs
Broken;
“You called me a monster, you wanted a monster. And now… you’ve got one… aren’t I generous?”
As a young god, he was clumsy, messy, unorganized but - he did his best with the task he was given as his people’s god of death. He was lanky, awkward, ill-prepared for the large task of tending to the souls that he was graciously given the responsibility or ruling over. Others in his pantheon were by his side as he found his way, comforted him and helped him along so that he could be the great ruler of the underworld that he was born to be. However, nothing and no one could have taught him or told him how to juggle the struggle of his duties with falling in love. Nothing could have prepared him for the mess his own heart had gotten him into.
He was naïve, easily controlled by his emotions, and quick to fall in love. Another young goddess, also naïve and new to the world of feelings, relationships, and just anything outside of their duties as gods - caught the young god of death’s eye. Slowly the two came together, careful and unsure as they had never felt this way before, nor did they know they were even capable of feeling something so strongly for another. It was a crawling speed at which they finally collide but when they did… the feeling was as if two stars had just collided with one another. Sparks, flashing lights, racing hearts, love, and passion came in droves. Overwhelming the two young gods with things they had never experienced before, only seen others experience it or seen the mortals they watch over fall in love.
Perhaps the passion was too much, the love was too strong, the friendship not strong enough… because no matter what they felt in the beginning it all fell apart in an explosion in the end.
She made him love himself in a way he never had before because she loved every part of him. The clumsiness, the awkwardness, the lankiness, the unbearable smell he had no control over– and he loved all there was to love about her. From the love she had for her pantheon, the love she had for the mortals she was tasked with caring for, her graciousness, her smile, her eyes, her lips– he loved all of her just as she loved him. Yet, it wasn’t enough in the end. Although he chose her over his duties over, and over, and over again… she couldn’t do the same for him. He understood that the mortals in her care were important to her but, he wanted to be just as important to her… he just wanted to be equal to them in her eyes rather than less than.
Yet, she still chose them over him. To the point of leaving him forever… forever choosing her love for mortals over the love she shared with him.
He couldn’t understand it, was he too much? Was he not enough? Was he too much of the monster she used to say he was? In anger she had called him a disgusting monster… if she saw him as a disgusting monster then that is what he would become… just for her.
Nothing could have prepared him for falling love… but more than that, nothing could have prepared him for getting his heart broken into shards of broken glass. Shards he used to chisel out who he would become.
Ruler;
“When an owl screeches, someone nearby will die. If you hear a hoot, take a deep breath and count to ten.”
The soft jingle of bells follows Cizin as he walks the cold and quiet night streets of the Earth. The dark surrounding him as he lumbers along the cobblestone pathways. His wide owl eyes awaiting the one who shall join him in his trip back to Mitnal. His gaunt, decaying body dragging along the streets, the shuffle and jingle of the bells in his feather a haunting thing for anyone to witness. A literal manifestation of people’s worst nightmares. He was created from their worst fears. The fears of those terrified of death. His faithful and equally terrifying companion Muan flies overhead, helping the Lord of Death and Ruler of Mitnal decide who will be joining him tonight. His ominous size and daunting symbolism as his wings are spread in the air, terrifying anyone who hears his screeches.
With every daunting step of his boney feet along the pathways, he passes the doors of unsuspecting mortals. Each one doing all they can to keep the horrifying Cizin at bay. Some keep him placated without even realizing, the sounds of wailing women bringing him joy. As each impact of fist to cheek is felt as a vibration in his chest, her fear and torment feed every urge in his bones. Other doors hide crying children, being reprimanded by strict parents, their anguish and misery filling him with warmth as he passes by them. Nightmares wrack others, leaving them to roll around in restless sleep, the torment of their own minds wreaking havoc on their psyche was enough to make him sigh in contentment. He continues along the streets, bones and bells alerting anyone close enough to his presence.
It’s the quiet homes that pull at his ears, the silence leaving a hunger in the pit of his stomach. He isn’t happy knowing someone behind a quiet door isn’t experiencing some form of misery. This brings him into the homes of sleeping families, a wave of a hand and eyes glowing red bring nightmares and horrifying ideas into the minds of innocents.
Night after night, he would come to the surface to bring chaos to the minds of mortals. Collecting souls to follow him to Mitnal and accepting the offerings given to him by his loyal followers. There was something missing though, something he couldn’t quite place. He was bored. Bored of his work in Mitnal and on Earth. Mortals were becoming more and more comfortable with chaos and pain as they wrecked it on themselves and those around them just as much as he did. It wasn’t filling to hear a battered woman cry or children to weep in the night. The vibrations of their agony no longer fill him with happiness and placating his hunger. He needed something new.
This brought him to the home of a vile human being. His favorite kind. A vicious man as horrible as him. One who made it his purpose in life to steal from the poor, vulnerable, and innocent. A killer who paid no mind to the innocent men, women, and children who’s souls he sent The Lord every evening. Cizin did not fear him, nor was he happy to be taking over his life. This disgusting man made his job as a god so much easier, for this mortal was not restricted to the streets at night or to the confines of a decaying body. He’d seen other gods use mortals as their vessels, to blend in with the disgusting rats they so loved. He didn’t understand it at first but, he was bored and boredom brought experimentation. The Lord reached out to the mortal he respected as he slept and laid a skeletal hand on his slowly rising and falling chest.
A flash of light and Cizin had made his choice.
This should be fun…
Humanity;
“Between two evils, I always pick the one I never tried before.”
When Ah Puch imagined humanity, he imagined those he saw in the dead of night, the souls he would take from the earth and leave to be tormented forever in Mitnal. The mortals he saw were the ones who wailed and screamed to keep him away, those who rightfully feared him and hated him. Those who worshipped him with all of their being and were shunned by their peers. What he did not imagine were those he would see in the light of day. The kind that were soft and sweet, forgiving, smart, and patient. He hated them, perhaps he was even jealous of them. Jealous of the love they give and also receive in return. Ah Puch spent centuries believing that he was happiest when he was feared and hated but, being surrounded by the rats he grew to hate… he realized why the one he loved chose them over him… which only made him hate them even more.
However, the god could appreciate them at the same time, for this side of humanity was what made the demons he influenced all the more powerful. Evil and filthy mortals that feed off the innocent ones, taking their fear and naivety and using it to make themselves more powerful. To Ah Puch mortals are nothing more than disposable rats, rats he can influence to do his bidding with no care if they die for him or not. Wanting nothing more than to cause chaos and torment their kinder counterparts. These easily manipulated rats are what helped Ah Puch find power. As he played the wealthy businessman and con artist, they were slinking around the back alleys of the cities he called home, taking control over the communities around him with threats and fear tactics. His worker rats made him stronger as he found power among stupid mortals that fell for anything that came out of his mouth. While his rats did his dirty work, he was able to charm his way into the lives and minds of some of the most powerful groups in the world. Surrounding himself with other people’s greed, lust, and their desire for misery and chaos, their destructive natures and skewed morals only made his work as a god of death and chaos that much easier.
It was also quite fun for him to watch their souls slowly turn to ash in the pits of Mitnal for the crimes he convinced them to commit.
If he’d known mortals were this easily manipulated and molded to his will, he’d have taken a vessel much sooner than he had. He found the rats were so easily turned self destructive, this discovery would become the easiest way he would fill the hunger for misery in his stomach. The pit that constantly needs to be filled with anguish, pain, and chaos. Torture at his own hands was few and far between as he had to keep up the mask with the more elite mortals. However, the hands of his minions were free to be covered in blood in his name, yet murder and torture just wasn’t doing it for him anymore. He needed a new method. Instead of hunting for himself or having his minions find an innocent face for him to torment, he found that simply supplying weak-minded mortals with inhibitors was just the thing he needed to placate his hunger. It was so easy for them to fall under the control of the inhibitors he and his minions would supply him, too weak to fight their own weak, mortal ways of becoming addicted to what he gave them.
Ah Puch started with alcohol, cocaine, and tobacco. Some of the easiest addictions he found that mortals would cling to if offered at just the right moment in their pathetic lives. Sex and love were next, discovering that to the weak minded people on his streets were just as susceptible to who addictions as any hard physical drugs. The new era mortals gave him so many more things to use against them, things that would bring them to their knees and right into his pocket. The amount of drugs and inhibition reducing pass times just increased with the creation of technology and the snowball of toxic relationships, just fueled him in new ways he never thought possible. At this point he barely had to put any work in at all… the idiot mortals were practically giving their corrupted souls to him on a silver platter. Nothing quite beats having some poor, weak minded mortal in his bed - high as a kite and confessing their undying love to him as their god, only to have a complete mental breakdown days or even hours later… This new era took him to a new level of chaotic euphoria.
With his hunger so easily filled thanks to humanity’s own downfall, he needed something to take up his time. These ventures only helped him get richer and richer so, by the end of the 1970’s he took up collecting. Collecting all different things mortals found disgusting or “evil”. He admired them. Admired these objects and all the stories and history they carry. There was something about the energy in his collection that comforted him. Knowing that all these objects that were considered “junk” or terrified mortals were safe with him, and knowing that even objects could hold evil and chaos like him brought him a level of what he could only describe as feeling like he was truly home.
Business;
“Power does not corrupt. Fear corrupts… perhaps the fear of a loss of power.”
When European historians discovered the original stories of him and his pantheon, well the stories of the original Cizin, the skeletal god who walked the earth only at night. They gave him a new name, “God A” among what they were classifying as the alphabetical Mayan deities. Out of spite, he gave himself a new name. Zane. The final letter of the English alphabet inspiring his new spiteful expression of self. It was around this time he learned of the creation of a new, enchanted island. An island made just for gods and their half-blooded children. A bizarre concept to him, to imagine gods and goddesses of all pantheons loving together with their half-mortal children. He thought about at least visiting to see what all the fanfare was about, but the thought of running into his own half-blooded children caused him to hesitate. He had a few that he could remember but, none of them were worth any of his time. He had better things to worry about than a few mistakes that happened to be his children. As if any of them would actually want anything to do with him anyways, no child wants a psychotic monster as a father. Zane couldn’t imagine even if he did care (which he doesn’t) that his children would care to meet or learn about the monster their god parent was. So, he ignored them and let them go about their lives, whatever that may be.
Finally, he decided to feed his curiosity of this island he kept hearing about among the gods in the early 1990s. He moved into a dusty apartment above a dirty, old store in an obscure alley of the Red Light district he decided to lovingly name - Sombra Muerte. That store would easily become one of his favorite accomplishments. He chose not to promote his shop, word of mouth was enough for him and the quieter his store was the better in his opinion. There is a reason he used to leave dealing with customers and clients in the hands of his assistants and minions, he could be charming when he needed to - schmoozing had become quite a talent of his - however he could only handle but so much before he was tired of it. Customers came and went of the years and he did his best to keep the regulars happy and new customers in the mood to return. The front of the back alley curiosities shop was dark, brooding, gothic, evil, and odd. A perfect home for his collection. The basement of said shop held an even darker secret that the Lord of Death kept well. His empire of schemes was still going strong, being run out of the same place that masqueraded as an oddities shop. It took him over three centuries to build up his empire to encompass almost the entire mortal world, he wasn’t going to leave it in the hands of anyone else just so he could prance around in a city full of other gods.
With drugs, schemes, sex, and oddities taking up his time and filling that pit in his stomach, he rarely visits Mitnal anymore. Finding it more fulfilling to wreak havoc and create chaos among gods and half-bloods and it was much more fun than dealing with ratty little mortals all the time.
Since learning of the power of torment and torture that humans are able to withstand and still live. He took on a new job, one catering to those only of a specific nature. Discovering there are times when he can torture and torment without having to kill and still feel fulfilled. Then, watching the poor humans - well half-humans - become addicted to this pain and pleasure slowly lose themselves was all the more enjoyable for him. With drugs, sex and oddities taking his time and fulfilling his nature, he rarely visits Mitnal anymore. Finding that wreaking havoc among gods and half-bloods to be much more fun than playing with ratty, little mortals.
Changing;
“Nothing is so painful to the mind as a great and sudden change.”
It’s been years now. He’s intertwined himself with the half-mortals for many years and he’s been dealing with mortals for even longer. As his time living on Mount Phoenix grows - Zane can feel a change in him being sparked. A change that he is not sure if he likes. Perhaps it’s the influence of the many different personalities that he comes into contact with now, maybe it’s the several children of his that have come into his life. Either way he is not happy about any of it. He’s started to go soft that last year or so and there is now and in his gut. A stinging behind his eyes and a spark in his stone cold heart that hasn’t been ignited since his heart was shattered a millennia ago. The old feeling of disgust he held around demigods was not as strong anymore and he hated himself for the slight cracks that were appearing in his obsidian encrusted heart. Zane hasn’t been anything but ruthless, controlling, deceptive, and hateful since he was broken as a young god. New emotions have begun to bubble up inside of him, he’s started to struggle with his identity. Nothing he does feels right anymore, yet, the pit of anguish and chaos in his stomach is numbing. The cravings for misery and pain are lesser now, rather than all he could think about.
After a long, much needed, trip to his home in Mitnal he has returned just as confused as he was when he left. He knew what these feelings were and deep down he was terrified of them. The last time he allowed his emotions to be as strong as mortals, he fell in love and his heart was shattered into a trillion tiny pieces. Zane was left a tattered and broken version of the god he once was and he built himself back up into the monster he became. Nothing ever the same for him after that, never having felt anything but pain since she chose the mortals he grew to hate over him. It was easier for him to allow himself to be feared rather than to allow himself to be loved and give love. He never wanted to feel that pain again… Perhaps, that is why he keeps no attachments. You can’t get hurt by love if you have none.
Zane always held the belief that he would never love his children. To him they are all nothing but disgusting half-bloods, born from the species he can’t stand. Yet, something is changing there too. It’s a hard feeling to describe, and the closet this can get to in words is guilt. He feels guilt for leaving them to be raised by pathetic rats who hate him. If he’d tried to care for them sooner, they could have been raised by some great - a god! They would have grown to be so much more than just half-bloods with no direction. Perhaps one day he could grow to love them in his own way. They are of his blood and as much as Zane hates himself and mortals… maybe the combination will open a new part of him that he hasn’t reached yet.
#tales of cizin ;; self para#;; bio#[ updated bio to fit the new and improved ah puch ]#[ made him a little more palletable and easier to find connections with ]#[ its a long one oops-- ]#[ also peep the new sexy fc ]
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Daniel Henney on Dearmyfriends
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Daniel Henney in Shanghai Calling (2012)
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