Chapter Text
God's are not human. They do not have to eat, fuck, love, create art. They truly are the only beings in the entire universe with choice. Then Anansi came, marveled at the sight of these disturbing but entertaining creatures as they crawled from darkness and into the light, building cities from the dust of shattered civilisations. He admired them enough to reach deep down in that bag of tricks and give them something free of charge.
Stories.
Tales of grandeur, of illusions, of entrapment and freedom. They love it, they loved him and they didn't have to, but they gave him things. A sacrifice. A shrine. A festival. So in return he'd grant them one last boon. He looked deep within their futures. What more could they want than survival? Stories were longer than life spans, passing from the lips of mothers to children, from warrior to warrior during down time, and in time slowly the stories would outlive the best of them.
Perhaps Anansi loved the humans too much, for he took many lovers. Maybe he created art in a lovely form, crafting tales of his bravado, of his strengths and weaknesses, of Kings and Queens, of lovers and foes, of hardship and even that of love, and all in the strangest ways. He may have taken to his human form more times than that of his God form, maybe deep down he cared far too much for these people.
They weren’t just humans. Humans were disposable and popped up like weeds right before the harvest, they could be drowned in floods and fed to fires, but they were more than that to him.
They were his people. He was their God. They ate together. Cried together. Laughed together. Created together. Love one another in ways only Gods could love their children. When death finally called them to that farshore that was such a long way from this realm they could all be together. For that reason he was here, making this journey.
His father of the deep skies told him that a great suffering was on the horizon. Anansi could easily turn away, many Gods before him had looked away during this suffering, or he could endure with them. His father of the deep skies told him it was silly, foolish even, humans would continue to suffer until they all perished, it was their ways, it didn’t mean their Gods had to suffer with them.
So Anansi chose to suffer, to sit beside his people, they were all in this together, right?
He lifted the hood from his head as he stood at the golden gates of the city. He placed his hand over the gate and felt it shimmer and shake before creaking open. He was quickly met by guards who held blades at his throat.
“Who are you?” They demanded.
“I’m a King and I’ve come in search of a Queen.”
“Your seal!?” They demanded and he fished it out of his pocket with ease and held it up. It was a golden seal that bore the mark of the spider. Then he was quickly whisked away with a smile on his face. They sent him tumbling down busy streets and through abandoned market places, all eyes were on him. Good. He liked the attention.
Gods are not human. They do not have to eat, fuck, love, create art. They truly are the only beings in the entire universe with choice. As he looked at her from the far side of the room he knows his choice and he will bind himself to her. He will eat with her. He will fuck her. He’ll create art for her. He’ll love her, just like everyone else does, and it won’t feel like a duty. Deep down he knew as soon as his he entered her Kingdom that her will would become his.
“I never thought I’d get to meet you.” He said, they know one another but not well. They pass one another every century or so but this is different, it’s a binding, something they will feel for the rest of their Godhoods. “Sheba. Makeda. Bilquis. You have more names than the wind has wisdom, and are more beautiful than the stories could ever paint.”