#彡﹒🎧﹒❪ 𝖇𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖈𝖍:𝖆𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖉𝖙 ❫

[dem1verse]

﹏ ❛ hell as well.⠀⠀⠀äs nodt.

˖⁺ ⊹୨ ★⠀the one where you speak with him after a fight with your mother.

content disclaimers ╱╱ young!reader. HEAVY angst to fluff. religious trauma & themes. mild body horror. platonic relationship. wc: 1.2k.

YOU HAVE (1) MESSAGE UNREAD !⠀⠀♡⠀⠀“for those of us who don't know/remember, i wrote a halloween themed oneshot about as nodt and it quickly became my most popular work (kinda :/) and a lot of people have asked for a part 2 so here it is! it could be read as a stand alone or as a sequel. keep in mind that although i am a former christian, this work is in no way meant to mock or slander the body of christ as a whole. most of this stems from my personal feelings and experiences. enjoy!”

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"THE GRACE OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST, AND THE LOVE OF GOD..." You recited these words with the members of your church, your hands stretched forward. Each word that fell from your mouth filled you with shame. Shame for yourself. You wouldn't have been at church if it weren't for your mother's insistence. She pushed you day after day, like a cornered animal, noticing the changes in your behaviour. You no longer spoke to her. Your eyes were glassy, and you talked to yourself for hours. It wasn't until you were called to the head pastor's office that her concern turned to horror.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀The pastor told her that a demonic cryptid had attached itself to you and advised her to pray for your deliverance. Kneeling on the soft carpet, you bowed your head as your mother and the pastor prayed. Their invocations grew increasingly aggressive, the carpet feeling like hot coals digging into your knees. Finally, they finished their prayers and left. Your mother gave you an inscrutable look as you both left the holy grounds.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀The ride home was unbearable. Silence filled the vehicle, your mother refusing to acknowledge your presence. At home, she led you to the living room and questioned you like a criminal.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Is it true? What they told me at church, it is true?" she asked. You remained silent.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"[Name]," she declared sharply. You slowly nodded your head, her face falling. "How long?" You shrugged your shoulders.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"You don't know?" she laughed bitterly. "After everything I've done for you. I've shown you the right way. I prayed, preached, and taught you everything. You of all people know what the Devil is capable of," she lectured. "I am deeply disappointed in you. How could you allow yourself to be consumed by the Devil in such a way, my child?" The silence in the room was deafening, your lips refusing to utter a single word. Your mother pleaded for a response. "Answer me!" she demanded. And then, a sound escaped your lips. A laugh.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Your shoulders trembled as you began to chuckle, sending a chill down your mother's spine. "Are you laughing?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "God will punish you for mocking him!" But your laughter only grew louder, evolving into uncontrollable cackling. Tears mixed with your laughter as you wailed in a haunting manner. When you finally regained composure, you fixed your gaze on your mother, eyes filled with sorrow. "God? What god do you speak of?"

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Your mother was taken aback. She had never heard you speak in such a way before. But you continued, unleashing a torrent of pent-up emotions.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"The god who condemns those who dare to question his love? The god who remained silent as I begged for mercy until my knees bled?" You recounted every instance where you had turned to the heavens for help, only to be met with disappointment. "The one who made me a heathen, cursed to yearn for love that will never be given back? The god who remained seated on his throne, unmoved by my impassioned pleas, my desperate cries echoing through the heavens, shouting: Why am I cursed to be as I am? Why do I suffer so? Why? Why me?" you sobbed, your voice breaking. Your mother could only look on with pity as you poured out your heart. "Is that the God of whom you speak?" The question hung heavy in the air, dripping with the heavy feeling of sadness and betrayal.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Perhaps the Devil is trying to deceive me and drag me into the darkness with him. But I would rather stand by his side," you declared "But I would rather be by his fucking side than be anywhere near your god." And with that, you walked away, leaving your mother shattered and lost.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀｡ ˚ ︶︶𖤐︶︶‌ ₊ ˚

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀The night had fallen, and hours had passed since the intense confrontation with your mother. Exhausted, you collapsed onto your bed and drifted into a deep slumber. As you slowly regained awareness, you were met with the sight of Äs Nodt, the enigmatic figure you had grown close to in recent months, looming over you. His presence was both comforting and unsettling as he gently caressed your cheek, a silent greeting. A faint smile tugged at your lips, acknowledging the bond that had formed between you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"why?"

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Hmm?" you mumbled. Äs Nodt didn't speak often, so it was quite a surprise. The silence broke at the unexpected sound of Äs's croaky voice again.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"you and i both know that my nature is far from pure. why bother trying to vindicate my presence in front of your progenitor?" he asked. He sounded confused, looking at you intently. You sighed.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"You are not a pure being, Äs Nodt," you declared with conviction. "I knew that from the moment our eyes met. You are the embodiment of darkness, a spirit that preys on the vulnerable, luring them into a web of deceit and falsehood. As I stood before you, you revealed yourself to me. It may have been out of malice, but back then, it brought me solace." Äs Nodt was speechless, for he had never encountered someone like you. "I had always felt like a burden to Heaven, carrying the weight of guilt on my shoulders. But you, with your understanding gaze and comforting presence, lightened that burden. You smiled, igniting a foreign warmth deep within his undead heart. "As long as you promise not to leave me in my darkest moments, I can rest assured in the knowledge of your true nature."

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Äs Nodt finally came to a realization, and deep down, he'd be deceiving himself if he said he didn't grow fond of you. As a malevolent principality roaming the world, he long grew jaded to the sounds of tormented souls, their cries of despair echoing in his ears as they struggled to escape the pits of their own making. And yet here you were, defying all expectations by engaging in conversation with a demon who had long abandoned any semblance of care for the world. You were different. You searched for the faintest glimmer of light in his abyss of darkness. He let out a deep chuckle. "an answer that eludes my comprehension, yet a gratifying one nonetheless." he said. "thank you, youth. my conscience is now at peace."

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀You leaned on the cryptid as he welcomed your warmth. He wrapped his arms around you, slowly lulling you back to the familiar realm of sleep. As he gazed towards the door, he locked eyes with your mother, his rolled eyes boring into her skull. Her face twisted in horror as she finally comprehended the consequences of her actions. How long have you suffered in silence, burdened by the weight of self-blame for the deeds of the enemy?

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀She staggered back to her room, unable to confront the harsh reality of her abuse. She had ultimately driven you to the brink and allowed the influence of a demon to infiltrate your heart. She had no one to hold accountable but herself. No amount of prayers to God could rescue you now. You were beyond saving, too deeply entranced in darkness to be swayed.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀And it was only a matter of time before you would be condemned to hell alongside him.

DEMI'S POST-IT⠀❞⠀i wrote this in one night 😭 idk what it is about me and big, bad people having a soft spot for a young kid who's having a hard time but that's just me.

[dem1verse]

﹏ ❛ all you gotta do is call me.⠀⠀⠀äs nodt.

˖⁺ ⊹୨ ★ the one where you form a friendship with the malevolent enity.

content disclaimers ╱╱ gn!reader. young!reader. HEAVY religious trauma and themes. angst to comfort. vollstandig!äs nodt. mild body horror. wc: 830.

YOU HAVE (1) MESSAGE UNREAD !⠀⠀—⠀⠀“the 2nd halloween short of the month! this one may have been inspired by czs horror history analysis of the man who can't breath from insidious and i might have used my own religious trauma as a base for this. i wrote this with christianity in mind (mainly nigerian christianity). anyways, enjoy 💃🏾”

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀YOU DON'T REMEMBER THE LAST TIME YOU PRAYED TO HIM.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀With the number of times you've been called an abomination before the eyes of the Almighty God, it's no surprise you'd see yourself as an unclean mix of flesh and blood who did nothing but wallow around. Sinner. Sodomite. Witch. Those were a few of many names that followed you around, hanging over you like a haunting veil of shame. Your relationship with your mother had always shown signs of strain, but you couldn't hate her. If anything, it was your fault for not being the ideal child, rebelling against the heavens. She was trying to guide you. Children of God don't act like this. Good children of God don't say that.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀God must hate me, you affirmed. The Lord God above would never approve of you. You swear he's looking down on you this moment, shaking his head in disappointment. Years and years of Christian sermons crept around in your mind, festering in your conscience. You'd be happy, they said. He's the only way, they said. You can depend on him. He'd be there when you called for him. Surely he'd comfort you in your darkest times. Where was he now? You silently cried out to the sky, tears already spilt and stained your cheeks, questioning your faith. That was the first time he showed up.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀The second time he showed himself, you'd been jolted awake by a nightmare. You'd gone downstairs to grab a glass of cold water, leaving the sticky heat of your bed. As you opened the cabinet, you couldn't help but notice how cold it'd gotten, the frigid atmosphere making you shiver. That's when you saw it. The man in white. His long, brittle hair shone in the moonlight. His eyes were rolled at the back of his head, drawing tears of blood from his sockets. Your eyes widened in silent fear, shuddering at his appearance. He bore a long white cloak, a prominent and bloody stitch running from the middle of his throat to the bottom of the robe, revealing gory muscle and bone. And his mouth. His teeth were left in the open, lacking the protective soft appendages. His blue star halo hung on the top of his crown, shining brightly.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Your goblet had long hit the floor, bits of sharp glass scratching your feet and the floor. Your mother had caught wind of the incident, screaming at you for having broken such a fragile object. She ranted on, but you were too focused on the man standing behind her. Were your eyes deceiving you? Could she not see him? You silently went to your room, ignoring your mother's verbal vomiting and eager to forget the past event.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀By the time you saw him again, he spoke. You were alone, your mother leaving you home in favour of church service. You lay on your bed, feeling drained and sleepy. As you turned over on your back, you opened your eyes, only to be met with those same eerie scleras. You screamed, the apparition looming over you menacingly. Slowly, the man raised a pale, bony arm, and caressed your cheek, paying no attention to your crying and erratic movements. Being raised in a heavily prayerful home stuck with you, no matter who you grew up to be. You've always been taught to condemn the devil, resist temptation and you'd be blessed with favour and prosperity. Yet here you were, finding solace in a demonic entity. You soon stopped crying, the man's nurturing touch gradually lulling you to sleep.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀A fight with your mother was never pretty. Silence and dissociation were your sword and shield during those times. Heartbroken at her cruel words, you slammed your bedroom door, heaving and sobbing. The reason for my stagnation, she called you. Nothing could've prepared you for that moment, her mocking shattering your heart and breaking your resolve. Curling yourself up in a ball, you tried your best to give yourself the scarce bit of consolation you had left. Then you heard him. His heavy, raspy breathing. The only sound in your room besides your wailing. He extended his sickly white limb towards you. He took hold of you, his body no longer radiating the icy temperature. You felt like a baby in its mother's arms, the entity stroking your hair. He gave you the nurture and care you've been looking for this entire time. You were no longer going to look above for alleviation. God wasn't there for you when you needed him, so why call him again? On the other hand, the spirit held you in his grasp, emitting a sense of security.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀And in that moment, you came to an epiphany. You didn't whether you'd be thrown in hell or not, you could always count on the man in white to be there for you. Even when you were dead, and long gone, you could always count on him. You just had to call him.

DEMI'S POST-IT⠀❞⠀ok im actually kinda proud of myself for writing all of this in like, one night. i also may or may have not nearly started crying in the middle of writing this. i hope this helps somebody with some sort of trauma stemming from religion. kinda based this on my experiences in my life, the ending is kind of how im feeling currently.

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