#Abolishment of Flesh

[denver-heavy-metal-society]

Texas death metal band Abolishment Of Flesh performing live in Fort Collins, Colorado. Video courtesy of Denver Heavy Metal Society.

[toxicmetalzine]

ABOLISHMENT OF FLESH

ABOLISHMENT OF FLESH Unleashes Savage Lyric Video for “Words Defy Truth” Off EP “Resurrecting Misanthropy” Watch the video right here: https://toxicmetalzine.com/post/abolishment-of-flesh-unleashes-savage-lyric-video-for-words-defy-truth-off-ep-resurrecting-misant

[satanhersxlf]

🖤💀 𝖘𝖔 𝖈𝖚𝖙𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖌𝖎𝖗𝖑𝖞𝖕𝖔𝖕 💀🖤

[dreampearls]

nahidaposting again

[glitchlight]

Oh No! I got mad about something someone I dont know posted on the internet and I am brooding and angry about it! Instead of posting I will relax and reflect and do something more productive like:

Scuba diving

Yoga

National Park Travelers Club

Becoming A Nudist

Jigsaw puzzles

Wikipedia editing

Inventing A Time Machine

Woodworking

Masturbating

Succumbing To The Amulet

Genealogy

Masturbating

Dark Alchemy

Robot combat

Bungee jumping

Electronics repair

Beekeeping

Lego sets

Shuffleboard

Slacklining

Eating Lugnuts Off The Cars In the Walmart Parking Lot

Photography

Metalworking

Hacking

Golfing

Paintball

Transcending the Limitations of Flesh

Welding

Thrifting

Sleeping

Abolishing The Division of Night and Day

Pet fostering

Meteorology

Getting Gone

Bowling

Dumpster Diving

Book collecting

Amateur radio

Meditating On My Uncountable Failures

Weaving

Ice skating

Graphic design

Brewing

Masturbating

Car racing

Stealing

Camping

Teaching Crows How To Commit Tax Fraud

Getting Really Good At Beatboxing

Cooking

Getting My Stink Salted

Bird watching

Crocheting

Gymnastics

Screaming Into the Night Sky At God

Metal detecting

Masturbating

Driving Off A Bridge

Sleeping

Thinking about Masturbating

Revisiting Classics To See If They Hold Up

Origami

Drinking

Masturbating

Billiards

Chess

Sleeping

Geocaching

Bread making

Launching rockets

Calligraphy

Archery

Jewelry making

Smoking

Video games

Needlepoint

Water skiing

Animal breeding

Stealing

Podcasting

Fantasy sports

Learning Spanish

Wine tasting

Backpacking

Getting Way Too Into Sports

Alchemy

Karaoke

Stealing

Traveling

Turning Straight Women Gay

Taxidermy

Masturbating

Horseback riding

Fishing

Being a DJ

Quilting

Juggling

Record collecting

Baking

Glassblowing

Drones

Stealing Infant Teeth

Crossfit

Improvisation

Attuning Myself To Crystals For the Purposes of Psychic Attacks

Drinking

Playing a musical instrument

Stand-up comedy

Throwing Myself Into A Volcano

Skiing

Remote cars

Bonsai

Furniture restoration

Quitting While I'm Ahead

Drinking

Writing

Smoking

Meterology

Local historical society

Disappearing In A Mysterious Accident

Assassination

Painting

Handball

Masturbating

Cheese-making

Martial arts

Astronomy

App making

Table tennis

Web design

Letting All The Demons Out of Hell

Farming

Hiking

Home improvement projects

Swimming

Skydiving

Volunteering

Animal grooming

Forbidden Alchemy

Remote airplanes

Gardening

Burying A Bunch Of Eggs

Becoming The Worlds Preeminent White Maoist

Digging A Hole To The Center of the Earth

Trivia

Journaling

Video production

Masturbating

Drinking

Crossword puzzles

Vehicle restoration

Candle-making

Drinking

Reading

Art collecting

Drawing

Makeup

Smoking

Running

Dancing On the Graves of My Enemies

Sleeping

Kayaking

Poetry

Knitting

Sleeping

Designing clothing

Sailing

Acting

Rock climbing

Disc golfing

Scrapbooking

Winemaking

Wood burning

Running Away

Museum visiting

Pottery

Escape rooms

Soap making

LARPing

Freestyling

Flying

Smoking

Snowboarding

Board games

Just Eating A Bunch of Candy

Surfing

Masturbating

Mixology

Smoking

Card games

Kite surfing

Masturbating

Composting

Dancing

Creating The Perfect French Fry

Powerlifting

Model trains

The Rites And Rituals Forbidden To Me

Movie reviews

Frisbee Wizardry

[missriggie]

If Inquisitor Lavellan is Hope, Elf!Rook is Freedom

Forgive my rambling but I just wanted to share this, see if it inspires discussion/theories/new friends to reach out, and maybe cement myself in this fandom.

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

I've given a sparing thought to some theories and headcanons I've seen circulating with the confirmation of elves once being spirits in Veilguard and all the clues sprinkled throughout Inquisition. One has popped up that I find intriguing and I agree with. Inquisitor Lavellan is a Spirit of Hope.

I think there is a very strong case for that, especially for those Solasmancers out there who love to pair them up as Wisdom and Hope. It's a very beautiful thought as they are without a doubt soulmates, at least in the cases where those two end up together.

Hope defines the Inquisitor's journey. They become the Herald of Andraste, a symbol to look to after a period of ruthless war, then into the ass-end of a demon apocalypse trying to mend a broken world. Deed after great deed they prove their capabilities, and become a formidable player in Thedas's history, keeping people looking up. They are the Dawn That Comes.

Now that Veilguard has since confirmed that Elves were spirits made flesh, I've started to wonder at what possible spirit Rook could be, should they be of Elven lineage. I've decided, either through evidence or delusion or trying to piece together the fanfic I've got brewing, that Rook could be a spirit of Freedom.

Every faction could have some way of a purpose toward liberation. A Veil Jumper would want to free their history and their people from ignorance. A Grey Warden would want to free Thedas from the Calling and the Blight. The strongest background, and most the likely canon faction for Rook would be a Shadow Dragon, putting pressure on the Imperium to abolish slavery.

Rook has a knack for freedom. We free Lucanis from the Ossuary, the Dalish Elves from the Venatori, the Kal Sharok dwarves from the Titan's anger, young griffons from the Gloomhowler. We even free ourselves from a prison of regret built specifically to lock up gods.

My first go round, I played a Lord of Fortune Spellsword, and it coincided very nicely with this theory. An ex-galley slave turned marauding treasure hunter with no masters to hold them back. She lived and breathed freedom so it made sense, at least for my Rook.

We also see the potential to corrupt that spirit of freedom. Into what you ask? CHAOS. Which also ties into the other thing that connects them to Solas; The Tower.

The big teaser for Rook as the protagonist back when it was still called Dreadwolf was the Tower/rook chess piece and floating head of a wolf. Solas's Arcana at the end of Inquisition is the Tower. This Major Arcana represents calamity, disruption, upheaval, unavoidable change, chaos.

Too much freedom leads to lawlessness, and Rook is never one to follow rules as far as we witness. In all backgrounds, no matter the faction, Rook's actions cause unrest, turmoil, disruption, often a total breakdown of authority, much like the spirit they are mistaken for when delving into Solas's memories in the Crossroads.

Rook cannot be caged or told what to do. But also, Freedom cannot go unchecked, to do so on either end of the spectrum just leads to untold mayhem. It needs a guiding hand. It needs Wisdom.

With this in mind, it just makes their dynamic with Solas so much more fascinating. Everything he has done is in the name of Freedom, and if he were to have a living embodiment of it move against him it would be so confronting. It would make him question his entire angle. Why is he really doing this, if not for freedom? But his pride would keep him in imprisoned in denial and regret. This denial is then reflected back to Rook in regards to the fate of Varric.

The case for each spirit, both Hope and Freedom, only intensifies if one chooses the Atonement ending.

Lavellan sees the Wisdom in Solas and tries to appeal to him through that. She gives him Hope, and joins him in the dream, forever protected from his fear of dying alone.

Rook holds a mirror to his Pride, his mistakes, his trauma and makes him confront it. They gather all the pieces needed to unravel his fear, allow him to let go and make his own choice to atone and return to his true self, opening a path to true Freedom to finally come home to the Fade. WHICH IS TWIN-FLAMEY AS FUCK

So yeah, I love this game. EDIT: I've expanded on this with a second part regarding Elgar'nan and will in the future take a look at Rook/Freedom in relation to Mythal as Benevolence and Retribution.

[laurfilijames]

Blurred

Pairing: Will "Ironhead" Miller x female reader

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Rough oral sex/face fucking. Fingering. Mention of gunshot wound. *reader is described as having enough hair to hold

Summary: Trauma from the events in South America start to catch up to Will and cause him to snap, blurring the line between him staying in control and taking it out on you.

A/N: Uhhhhh so I guess I kind of made a loophole for myself in that I said I would stop posting once Breathe was finished and it's not...I don't know why I'm sharing this, if I'm honest.

---

One more sleepless night fueled by night terrors led to one more short fuse blown, his patience and control abolished by stress brought on by a steadily accumulated guilt which all amalgamated into where he found himself now.

Will’s teeth clenched tightly together, his unhinged grunts and curses filling the air, his foot propped up on the ledge of the mattress so his leg provided him more momentum and force.

Your presence on the floor between his legs was barely on his radar, though the reason he was so lost in pleasure was on account of your mouth wrapped around his cock, sloppily sucking and sputtering on his size that he continued to slam down your throat with each barbaric thrust.

The silkiness of your hair slipping through his fingers would occasionally register, most of it twisted up around his large hand in a tight grip where he unknowingly pulled and tugged at it until your scalp stung, only to push you further down his length without any regard for your airway.

You didn’t mind it one bit, letting him use you exactly how he needed to, the tears streaming down your cheeks simply an automatic response to you gagging on his cock and not in any way emotional.

Will had been quiet all week, and short whenever he did speak, so finally watching him snap and give into some form of release from his torment was something you were more than fine being a participant in.

Your jaw was tired, but it didn’t matter, letting it hang as slack as your instincts would allow so he could fuck your mouth, the head of his cock ramming into the back of your throat repeatedly while you focused on trying to get air to your lungs.

The blond fuzz on his thighs was a soft contrast to how your nails clawed at his flesh that covered hard muscle, his toned quads flexing as he thrusted back and forth wildly against your face, and no matter how many red scratches would be left in his skin, he never relented.

You tried hard to get a glimpse of him, desperate to see the expression on his face as he sought what he needed to feel better, but it was useless, your face being shoved back against his groin in a pace too fast to look up with your nose buried in his wheat-coloured pubes, and even if he had granted you a more languid tempo, your sight was completely blurred by the tears that welled again as soon as some fell.

In this moment you were nothing more to him than a hole to fill.

Not his wife or his partner, the person who had his trust, his love and respect for you gone with the rest of his inhibitions, and it fucking thrilled you.

It wasn't rare that you would fuck each other roughly, and no matter how primal things became the undertone of love was always present, but something darker loomed in his treatment of you now and it seemed to awaken something in you.

It was no surprise to feel how wet you were when you adjusted your position on the floor, shifting your legs slightly where the combination of the sting of your knees and trigger of your gag reflex made goosebumps litter your skin, moaning as loud as you were able to before it was muffled even more.

You knew it was a risk, slowly reaching down between your spread legs to swipe your fingertips through your soaked pussy as if you thought you wouldn't be caught, and you smiled despite having your mouth full when Will’s barking demand filled the room as soon as you did it.

“Don't you fucking dare!”

That attempt of a smile quickly vanished when he pulled on your hair more to angle your head back, rutting deeper and faster into you as a punishment for your selfish endeavour.

It always amazed you how attentive he was, never missing a thing even when he was in this state, his honed skills as a Delta Force Captain shining through and making you swell with pride at his ability to still be so sharp even during moments where he was blinded by both pleasure and rage.

Choking and gurgling sounded distant in your ears, your eyes closing again to spill more mascara-stained tears down your face, doing everything in your power to relax to his barrage.

Needing something to help steady you on your task and prevent yourself from acting on relieving the ache between your legs, you allowed your hands to land against his thighs again, smoothing them up slowly to his hips and around to his plump ass that flexed with his aggressive tempo, careful not to get near the gunshot wound on his left side that was still healing.

“Fuck!” he growled, somehow able to form the single word through his grunts that kept increasing in volume and intensity, a sharp hiss sucking in through his teeth as he grew closer to his goal of completion.

It became even harder to breathe for a few seconds until your instincts kicked in and your body automatically worked to swallow what was given to you, his hot, thick cum pumping down your throat, a sense of relief and gratitude coursing through you as your fingers started to ease their grip on his thighs.

You eagerly gulped it down, simultaneously wanting air and more of him, the taste and smell of him making you dizzy, and finally your whiny moans and laboured breaths exhaling through your nose became more audible.

He used you until every last shot of his load was spurt inside your mouth, his hips still thrusting to move his cock in and out, watching with satisfaction as some of it that you weren't able to get down spilled from one corner of your lips.

The way your hand loosely splayed over his lower stomach, carding through the trail of hair leading down to where your face was still buried seemed to alert him, his hand loosening its grasp on your hair as he came down, making him realize just how brutally he was treating you.

You were being picked up off the floor before you could open your bleary eyes again, feeling his large hands moving from your shoulders to cup your face, his touch gentle and caring compared to before.

“You okay?” Will asked, his thumbs wiping the black streaks off your cheeks.

You opened your eyes to see his expression scrunched with concern, his blue ones still wild as they searched your features for an answer to his question, and all you could do was manage a nod while a deranged, groggy smile dressed your lips that were still covered in spit and cum.

“I'm fine, Will,” you spoke in a weak voice, your hand clasping his wrist, giving it a rub to further let him know that what you said was true.

He sighed heavily and pulled you into his chest, his sweaty skin like fire against your cheek, his heartbeat furious in your ear.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart.”

You pulled your head away from his body, a blissful delirium still gracing you, looking up at him where you brought the tips of your fingers to his face and traced one of the lines beside his mouth.

“Don't be.”

A look of guilt and shame dressed his features, blinking away only to have you guide his face back to yours, your fingers moving to graze his bottom lip.

“Just touch me, Will. Please…”

He exhaled deeply through his nose while he nodded, his eyes still reflecting remorse and concern, but granted your wish and placed his hand between your legs.

His long fingers stroked your cunt, spreading your slick to your clit while he guided you to sit on the bed, crawling over you as you laid back into the sheets and spread yourself for him.

It was such a contrast; seeing the evidence of your struggle as your tears still stained your cheeks compared to the euphoric, content grin that decorated your lips he knew would be numb from him, and his heart clenched in his chest at knowing how much you loved him despite everything he put you through.

Inserting one, and then a second finger inside you, he worked you with expertise, massaging your g-spot while the heel of his hand hit your clit, eliciting moans and pleas from you already.

“Fuck– Will…God that feels so good–”

A sharp cry broke off whatever else you were trying to say, and Will felt your body relax before it tensed again, your hips driving down to push his fingers deeper inside you, the sheets surrounding you pulled taught as you clawed at them.

Your body was writhing beneath him with everything he did, making him a master and you his subject, his attentive nature to everything in general extending to learning every part of you.

Will hovered closer over you, his breathing turning laboured again the more he watched you succumb to his touch, and he took your nipple in his mouth, sucking and rolling his tongue around it until it turned rigid and your own breath shook as you released it from your lungs.

He pulled away, letting go of your nipple after one last hard suck, leaving a string of spit connecting your breast to his mouth that watered profusely from knowing what he was doing to you.

His focus was now completely on you, zeroing in on every sound you made, each way your body twitched and reacted to his fingers working you, how wet you were before he even laid a finger on you and how much wetter you were getting still.

You whined his name on repeat, your voice hitching whenever he hit just the right spot that edged you closer and closer, the tone you called him in growing more desperate as your praises turned to begging.

When he caught your thighs trembling, Will locked in on maintaining the exact motion that got you to this point, careful not to change pace or even the position of his fingers even slightly, watching your face contort and your mouth gape open as loud cries escaped it and you came hard on his hand. Your body arched off the bed, grinding against him as you rode out every second of your orgasm before finally collapsing back into the sheets, your heavy breaths mixed with an unhinged laugh as you brought your hand up to cover your face in disbelief.

Will smiled as he crawled up to be level with you, taking your hand in his to uncover your face, kissing the back of it multiple times before he brought his lips to yours.

His eyes were serious when he broke your kiss, his voice somewhat strained when he spoke.

“I’m sorry,” he uttered again, moving to lay more on his side where he winced, his wound still fresh enough to cause him a bit of pain. “I don’t mean to lose control like that…”

“I know you don’t. But it’s fine, I promise,” you soothed, stroking the side of his face up to his hairline that was saturated with sweat.

He set his lips together in a line, the way he was trying to believe your words clear on his face, and averted your gaze as his eyebrows rose on his forehead.

“Hey,” you called, propping yourself up on your elbow to get closer to him. “I love you, Will.”

He nodded and smiled softly, his eyes a little brighter and no longer holding evidence that he was battling with the line that blurred seeing himself as the man he wanted to be and the one he wanted to forget.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

---

Taglist:

@dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls @littlenosoul

@glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90 @paintlavillered

@casa-boiardi @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989 @justreblogginfics @spaghettificationandpretzels

@whatever-lmaoo @steviebbboi @charethcutestory02 @daryldixonpls

[otaku553]

Hello! It’s me! And I’m back on my crossover bs again

A few years ago I had an idea for a Kirby demon slayer crossover but at the time my ideas for Meta Knight weren’t fully fleshed out. You can read some more of my ideas in the read more!

So originally my idea was that Kirby was an extremely talented young urchin that Meta Knight picked up in a town or a forest somewhere. Meta is the last remaining member of the Star Estate, a group of talents swordsman in the Corps that was nearly completely wiped out within the last century. Meta Knight, finding Kirby, saw not only extreme power and raw potential, but also a way to revive the Star Estate through a young talent that may grow up to be even stronger than him.

This inevitably happens, but happens much sooner than Meta expects, when Kirby is only 10 years old. Kirby learns the Breathing Style of the stars that Meta teaches him, but also has a terrifying talent for mimicry, and is able to temporarily copy any Breathing Style that he witnesses. Having surpassed Meta Knight in power and rank, Kirby takes Meta Knight’s official seat among the Hashira. That said, Kirby doesn’t have much of a mind for the more tactical and official side of the Corps’s duties, so Meta tends to take over for him during meetings.

Reactions to Kirby’s presence are mixed. Many of the Hashira bear some amount ill will against Meta, believing that Meta took in a child and trained him just to revive the seat of the Stars. They dislike that a child is fighting their battles for them, but have to begrudgingly acknowledge Kirby’s sheer strength. This results in a lot of people being rather surprised at just how tenderly Meta Knight treats his little ward, buying him little gifts and souvenirs wherever they go and making sure that he is healthy and safe.

Similarly to Urokodaki, Meta wears a mask to conceal his face, since he has been told that his face is too kind or too soft for his profession. He has offered to make Kirby one as well, but a mask would not do much to hide Kirby’s height and age anyways. Meta also carries two swords but only uses one— the second one is one of Kirby’s spares, just in case Kirby accidentally forgets or loses his own. (This happened about three times before Meta Knight started carrying the spare around.)

In this au, Dedede is a prefectural governor who continued ruling over his land after the daimyo-ruled han were abolished for prefectures. He comes from a long line of aristocracy, and is aware of demons wandering around at night but doesn’t get involved much with the demon slaying side of things. Meta is an old friend of his, and keeps him updated on recent local happenings with the demons.

Here are the two of them separately!

[denver-heavy-metal-society]

Texas death metal band Abolishment Of Flesh live at Aggie Theatre in Fort Collins, CO 2014 on the Brutal Alliance Tour. Video courtesy of Denver Heavy Metal Society.

[femoso-seben]

Humanoid Monster

Part 1, Part 3

Laswell sighed as the delegation dragged on. Of course, neither side sent their leadership only lackeys to demand impossibilities for the others to complete. They still tasted blood in their mouth for their fallen. The human delegation was a man called Vladimir Makarov, a young Russian who led his paramilitary group in deep Siberia.

“Why should we agree to these terms?” Makarov asks, how he knew, or let alone who taught him English was beyond Laswell. Most humans don’t know more than one language. Rarely do they speak the languages of countries far away from them. Humanity is landlocked. It was a way to ensure humanity never teamed up to defeat the monsters.

“Why should we agree to your request either?” Laswell sneers her wings twitching, from her anger. She read about this man, how he slaughtered many monsters and used their pelts as decoration. He was fighting for a greater Russia, with only humans in it, abolishing any monster or hybrid in sight. A human utopia!

They were talking in circles, Switzerland’s military standing at watch ready to shoot both delegations dead if given the chance. They weren’t achieving anything here.

“Since this is a peace treaty give us the names of your task force,” Makarov asks, Laswell knew it was personal for him. 141 and he was in a long constant struggle.

“Give us the files on the Pale Death, White Fang, Angel of Death, and Hunter.” Laswell strikes back. Each one of those women caused so many problems, that they must have been resistance rebels.

Makarov pursed his lips and glared at Laswell, “We’ll give you the files for White Fang and Hunters. As for the Angel of Death, she wasn’t one of us, but as for the pale death? No, we will not.”

“Then you will only get the files on, Roach,” Laswell spoke. It seems like Makarov is only giving information on the dead so she’ll do the same. Makarov frowns.

“Deal.” They both knew a single member of Task Force 141 was far better than any human, dead or alive, all except for the Pale Death.

By the end of the meeting, they had only agreed to share files of the dead and nothing more they merely moved a single inch to the finish post. As Laswell walks out Soap, Price, Graves, and Ghost we’re waiting for her.

“Where’s Gaz?”

“Helping the Hapries to fly,” Soap rolls his eyes, “the human woman can’t even raise a harpy! They should need the least amount of training!” Price touched his shoulder silencing the Sergeant.

“What happened?” Price asks.

“Not much, I was able to get information on White Fang and Hunter,” Laswell sighed.

“Those two are fucking dead, at least get the Pale Death—”

“Their delegate is Makarov,” everyone froze and a low growl imitated from all of them.

“He’s here? That terrorist?” Ghost steps closer to Laswell.

“C’mon let’s review the files maybe their connections, sure White Fang and Pale Death worked together,” Laswell spoke up.

Jezebel reappeared and began to lead them to a place outside of the meeting point, a spacious military camp where they were staying. It was more like Switzerland wanted to watch them, making sure they didn’t unpack them negatively.

Laswell hands over the packet to Price, Ghost, Graves, and Soap. They slowly scan through the files.

White Fang:

name: Belinda Wolf

Age: 23

Height: 5’9”

Weight: 140lb

History: grew up on a resistance compound deep in Akaska forest. Grew up hunting animals to survive. Favorite targets were werewolves said they were the apex of trotted a hunter could win.

statue: KIA

The photo was of a plan-looking woman, nothing remarkable, but for Soap he felt a sense of victory over this wretch. He hunted the White Fang down and butchered her like she butchered his troops. He hated her flesh making sure she was truly dead.

Hunter:

Name: Rawiya Abadi

Age: 31

Height: 5’4”

Weight: 120 lbs

History: The daughter of a wealthy (free) man she grew up owning and hunting exotic animals. She soon turned radicalized and began to hunt down every predator species of hybrids for their pelts and horns, wanting to collect every type of monster.

Status: KIA

“We’ll these aren’t helpful.” Price grumbles.

“A bunch of psychos.” Soap drops the file onto the table.

“We’ll theirs one thing for sure,” Graves spoke up, “White Fang didn’t work together, and White Fang came after Hunter.”

“What are you insinuating?”

“Maybe their master and apprentices? After all, they share the same M.O. two hunters, maybe they did meet up but it’s not stated here.” Graves continues.

“We never found Hunter’s body, maybe Hunter set up that compound and trained up an apprentice?”

“What about mother and daughter?” Ghost brought up.

“That could be plausible,” Soap said.

“Makarov said the Angel of Death isn’t connected to the resistance forces.”

“That human is lying.” Soap sneers his sharp claws poking out.

“It could be plausible,” Ghost spoke up. “The Angel of Death was in deep monster territory, to be a resistance force is unlikely as it was hard to pick that human out of a crowd. She acted like one of the enslaved.”

“That one is most likely inspired by the resistance.” Price grunts out.

“The fact Switzerland allowed a killer like the Pale Death to live here is insane,” Soap said.

“Mother Maia… how insulting.” Graves notes, “The Pale Death working with our children?”

“I bet Maia isn’t her real name,” Soap mutters.

“Agree,” Price grunts out smoke leaking from his maw.

“Why don’t we do some recon whilst we’re here” Graves stands up, “Price you stay with Laswell, Ghost asked the young Gargoyles about their life, and I will talk to Mother Maia.”

“What are you planning?” Laswell folds her arms, “Shepard wants a smooth deal where we get our concessions.”

“I know, but something feels fishy about this place.” Graves adds, “It feels… stage.”

“Let me—“

“I want you and Gaz to watch the children, and see if their body languages give anything away.” Sops clenched his fist but nodded and sat down.

—————————— /\ ——————————

Gaz looked at the little harpies their little down feather wings gathered around him like lost chicklings looking for their mommas. He felt himself smiling at the small yet wide-eyed little owls just staring at him.

Pricilla is seventeen, and the oldest person there. She had also spent the longest time at the orphanage.

“So you’ve been an orphan this long?” Gaz asks.

“No, Mother Maia is my adopted Mother,” Gaz eyes widen.

“When did she adopt you?”

“I was eight.”

“Does she have any other kids?”

“No,” Pricilla sighs. “She cannot adopt anymore, in Switzerland only monsters can adopt monsters, same with humans. We came to Switzerland mother and daughter,” Gaz nods and looks at all the little Hapries.

“There’s so many children here,” Gaz mutters there were at least fifteen harpies of flight age.

“Many monsters abandoned their injured kids here, many of them have actual parents who don’t want them, but a small few made it here on their own… the human orphanage is way more kids.”

“Human orphanage?” Gaz questions.

“A lot of humans give up their babies because they can’t care for them, some are given up because their parents died after arriving.”

“how do you know this?”

“We all go to school together.” Gaz’s mouth drops. Humans? Monsters! Together? In school! No way!

“We’re gonna narrow their football field for this flight practice.”

“… you know this land used to not be Switzerland,” Gaz said as they walked a mile to the place.

“I know it was a part of France, right?” Pricilla answer. Gaz nod.

“We monsters don’t use the old colonial name the humans created.” Pricilla nods, she soon arrives at a school and there a few humans are playing.

“Jakob,” Pricilla calls out, a blonde boy, around Pricilla’s age wave.

“We need to barrow your football field.”

“Why?” He asks walking over to the fence of the tennis court.

“Flying practice!” Pricilla cheers.

“I’ll go tell Gramps he can turn on the lights.”

“Thank you!”

“You seem friendly with that human,” Gaz said trying not to growl at her. How could she forsake her kind and be around humans? Doesn’t she know they are destructive and cruel?

“He’s my classmate.” She bashfully said. Cold realization dawned on Gaz this young harpy like that human. He was a decent-looking boy but it made his blood boil.

By the time they reach the football field, the lights turn on.

It was going to be a long night, the sun was setting and they had a few hours to teach them. The wind picked up, his wings flared out and the older harpies watched him, eyes wide and eager to learn.

Gaz couldn’t help but smile at these small harpies taking flight, their wings clumsily flapping in the air.

Taglist: @kkaaaagt, @kaoyamamegami, @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore

[arvandus]

Love and Duty Chapter 2

Banner background made by me; do not copy or distribute without permission.

OVERALL FIC WARNINGS: cisfem!Reader; canon adjacent (i.e., loosely-based); 18+ (Minors and ageless blogs DNI!); NSFW in future chapters; violence in future chapters (not against MC); deceit/lying; fake relationship (one-sided); pining; angst with a happy ending.

Chapter 1

Love and Duty Chapter 2

For all of the drama of the previous night, the brothers were quick to apologize the next day, with Mammon practically groveling for forgiveness.

With your temper now cooled back to its usual low hum, you had accepted their apologies, and in a rare case of cooperation between them, Mammon and Asmo managed to put their funds together to replace the dress that they had ruined.

It was hard to stay mad at them after that...

But it was also hard to focus on much else besides the new development between you and Barbatos. It was a strange vortex of emotions that you found yourself in, caught in a tug-o-war between elation and anxiety.

On one end, you were thrilled that your night had done the one-eighty that it did, the impossible becoming your new reality.

Barbatos had kissed you. Not once, but twice.  The memory of it still sat on your lips, the soft flesh tingling while your heart did joyous somersaults in your chest.

But you were now also filled with uncertainty.  Yes, you’d kissed.  But he’d also made a point to ask you to keep your involvement with him private for the time being.  It’d lent the promise of more intimate moments to come, but it also brought to question how official the two of you really were.  You couldn’t help but feel the sharp tinge of disappointment; it made you feel like a dark secret, something to be hidden away rather than cherished, and it brought with it a sense of uncertainty and shame.

Deep down though, you had trouble believing such negativity, especially considering the kisses you’d shared, and the way that he’d comforted you that night.  Not to mention your lengthy friendship with him that you had both built over the years provided a strong foundation of trust and respect.

So instead, you focused on understanding the difficulty of his position.  There was no doubt that your involvement with him could cause quite the political scandal.  It was an unspoken fact in Devildom culture that there remained a very real bias against cross-species romance in any serious capacity.  Sure, sexual relations weren’t uncommon; demons were more than willing to utilize sex as a form of manipulation when they sought to corrupt a human for the sake of devouring their soul.  Sexual involvement also sometimes occurred as a way to solidify pacts between a demon and their human, a vow written into the body and soul via touch rather than verbal contract.

But romantic relations? True commitments? They were still frowned upon by demon society at large, and there was no greater emphasis on this than the persistent archaic ban on interspecies marriage.  Yes, it was a ban that Diavolo had every intention of abolishing when he felt the time was right, but who knew when that time would be. Years? Decades? Centuries?

So to not only become romantically involved with a demon, but Barbatos? Even you couldn’t ignore how such news could shake the entirety of the Devildom and compromise Diavolo’s reputation and public trust.  It didn’t matter how many times you’d helped the Devildom, whether it was the citizens, the lords of hell, or even the crown itself.  It didn’t matter that your approval rating amongst the student body was the highest it’d ever been. And it didn’t matter how popular you were amongst the citizens, a celebrity icon in your own right.

What did matter was that Barbatos was the oldest, most powerful demon in the Devildom, second only to Diavolo himself, and the one closest to the young prince. He was not only the master of time, who’s reputation preceded him in hushed whispers, but he was also the voice of reason, the one who tutored prince Diavolo for millennia and advised him in a multitude of affairs, big and small.

Anyone could excuse the brothers’ infatuations with you as an influence of their pacts or even their Sins.�� And despite the strength of their Sins, their legal authority was limited by the Prince and the House of Lords, a vital arrangement of checks and balances within the Devildom government. 

Anyone could even excuse the infatuation of prince Diavolo, if he were so inclined, with the assurance that Barbatos would always be present to act as a voice of reason and boundary-setting, the invisible leash to a young demon prince with overly optimistic and grand ideas.

But to have Barbatos be the demon that was compromised in a love affair with a human? And not just any human, either; one who had the pact strength of the seven lords of hell, the Ring of Light, and was apprenticed under the most powerful human sorcerer? And not just any sorcerer, but one who’s untrustworthy reputation far preceded him and that Barbatos himself happened to have a pact with?

No doubt many demons would not only see Barbatos’s involvement with you as a conflict of interest, but as a full-on attack to their national security.

The weight of these realizations grew heavier and heavier the more you thought about them. They wormed themselves between what you wanted and what was possible.  All you wanted was to enjoy the comfort of Barbatos’s company; to flirt and date and be together without fear of repercussion.  Instead, you had to remain secretive, silent, putting a stopper on your joy even as it threatened to bubble over like an unwatched pot.  You had no one to talk to, no one to confide in. No one except Barbatos, of course... and his availability was already limited as it was.

The more you looked at it, the more it felt like a losing game, a temporary indulgence with no happy ending.  But hope was a funny thing, and the simple fact that Barbatos had seemingly chosen his feelings for you over whatever risks it would bring were enough to give you reason to stay, to take what you could get in whatever form he could provide it.

After all, at the end of the day, happiness was something you not only craved, but needed. And for better or worse, it was Barbatos, above all else, that made you happy.

Which was why you knew you’d have to tread carefully.  You were aware of the risks; you were aware of his position and the demands it placed on him.  He had made the first move, but you knew that, at least for now, he also had to make the second, and the third. You were in uncharted waters, and he would be your guide, weaving the both of you through any possible political pitfalls.

You opted to wait; give Barbatos time to come to you when he was ready.  You knew how busy he was, how heavy his plate of duties weighed upon him day in and day out.  And it was for the best, you told yourself. Your own plate wasn’t exactly light either.  You had plenty keeping you busy throughout the long Devildom hours.

It still didn’t stop you from checking your phone periodically, hoping for a text message.  But each time, you were only greeted with his most recent text, sent after the meeting with the Lords had ended.

‘Well done,’ he’d said.  ‘The young master was very pleased.’

The message was timestamped for three days ago. You’d received nothing since.

You worried your lip between your teeth.

Best not to look at it.  You stuffed the DDD into your back pocket.  But as soon as you did so, it vibrated.  You nearly threw it across the room as you clumsily yanked it from the denim at lightning speed.

False alarm. You stared at the brothers’ group chat with an annoyed glare.

But as you stared at your phone, a new text came through, Barbatos’s name flashing across the top of your screen.

Your heart immediately froze and you opened the message.

‘The young master would like to invite you to dinner at the castle this evening.’

You stared at it with a mixture of relief and annoyance.  Finally Barbatos messaged you... but certainly not for the reason you’d hoped.

Your fingers hovered over the keys briefly before you began typing.

‘Am I in trouble?’  you joked.

Barbatos responded immediately.

‘On the contrary, the young master was so pleased with your conduct with the Lords, that there’s a new matter he’d like to discuss with you in private.’

Private... you’d grown accustomed to the subtleties of Barbatos’s communication style to know that such a specific detail implied a request for secrecy.

You stared at the screen in annoyance and confusion.  The way he was so formal... it felt like you were in a weird alternate universe where the kisses had never happened.

You read the message over again and narrowed your eyes.

A new matter...

Ugh. That sounded like the impending doom of more responsibility... you had half a mind to decline the invitation.

But before you could reply, Barbatos continued.

‘I shall make you your favorite dessert.’

Warmth began to blossom like a morning sunrise in your chest.

‘Are you bribing me?’ you teased.

A pause and you could almost hear his chuckle in your mind. ‘Perhaps,’ he said.

‘You can be rather devious when you want to be,’ you replied.

Barbatos sent you a winking demon emoji and you rolled your eyes.

‘What time should I arrive?’ you asked.

‘Dinner will be hosted at 6.’

‘I will be there,’ you replied.

‘I look forward to it.’

You stared at his response, letting it soak into your bones and water you like a parched plant.

He was looking forward to seeing you.

He still liked you.

He didn’t regret kissing you.

The anxiety slowly faded away and you felt like a normal, functional human again.

---

You arrived precisely on time, as you knew Barbatos liked. It was a skill that you’d never quite mastered until you’d finally learned to teleport.  Turns out that removing the transportation aspect of travel made timeliness infinitely easier.

Barbatos opened the door just as you had raised your hand to knock, his body already dipping in a graceful bow.

“Welcome,” he said formally. His eyes lifted and met yours as he straightened, and heat flooded your veins at the very subtle undertone of warmth within their verdant depths.

“Thank you,” you replied in the same formality, a grin barely held back from your neutral lips.

Of course, your resolve didn’t last long.  Your joy around him was in constant bloom, and your lips curled into a smile as he beckoned you into the entry hall.

It was all so familiar, now... the stonework, the dancing flamed sconces that never died, the pictures that always watched but never blinked.  There was always something strange about the Demon Lord’s Castle, an awareness that seemed to lurk within its very walls.  It felt more alive than inanimate, the occasional Devildom wind passing through high open windows like the breaths of a great beast.  Even the rooms themselves seemed to change locations occasionally, particularly ones that didn’t like to be visited too frequently (as Barbatos put it).  It always unnerved you, inspiring a low hum of discomfort each time you stepped within its ancient magic-laden walls.  It made you subconsciously desire to treat the enchanted keep with respect lest it send you somewhere you didn’t want to go.

You never let your defenses down completely within the castle, but you had learned to grow more comfortable with it over time, in much the same way one might learn to befriend a wild beast.  It was familiar to you now, as each visit you learned and memorized more and more of its nuances.  In a strange sense, it felt like a second home, so long as you kept to the hallways and rooms that you knew you were allowed to venture.

Of course, your knowledge and the comfort it brought wouldn’t be nearly as complete without Barbatos’s help.  You’d had countless conversations shared over tea about the ins and outs of the castle; he was a wealth of knowledge, filled with history and memories. He told how some spaces were built by the power of the first Demon King, while other parts came later, of their own volition, manifesting within a night.  It was the spaces without origin, without ownership that were the most dangerous, where the magic was at its strongest, warping time and space, impacting the laws of physics in ways that were beyond your human comprehension.

Avoid the southeast tower.  And the fourth level of the basement on the west end.  Do not enter the room at the end of the long hall; the door only opens in, but not out. Never out. If you hear whispering behind the curtains within the gallery on the seventh level, do not open them.

On and on it went.

You catalogued each warning within your mind with an ease that could only be reinforced by the fear of death or worse.

Barbatos was always generous with answering your curious questions, although the answers he gave were at times cryptic or entirely evasive.  No doubt there were some questions that ventured too close to secrets, and in those moments, you knew better than to pursue it.

You followed behind Barbatos, allowing him to lead you, despite the urge to walk beside him where you could steal glances of his profile.  Typically, the entry hall led directly into the Great Hall, where most of the hosting and dining occurred when company was present.  However, this time, you were led to the right and up a set of stone stairs to the second floor which opened onto a mezzanine.

“Are we not dining in the usual place?” you asked curiously.

Barbatos glanced back at you briefly.  “Not this evening.  The young master wishes to have his meal in his private dining room. I discouraged the decision due to formality, but he insisted, stating that the smaller space will be better for private conversation.”

Your brow furrowed as he led you down a wide hallway along a row of closed doors before finally turning to face the second to last set of doors.  They were tall and ornately carved with etchings of Devildom fauna and wildlife arcing in intricate patterns upon its surface.

“Is anyone else coming this evening?” you asked as your eyes followed the height.

You had kept your invitation a secret from the brothers and provided a school-related excuse for Lucifer when he inquired about your dinner plans, but it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility that others might still be present. Solomon, Simeon... even Mephisto on rare occasions had joined you and Lucifer at the prince’s dinner table in the past.

Barbatos paused as you joined him at his side, and he looked down at you with a small smile.  “No.  The young prince has requested to see only you.”

Your eyes widened and your posture stiffened slightly.  Barbatos gave a soft chuckle that traveled right up your spine.  His gloved hand took yours, his fingers intertwining to give a gentle squeeze. 

Such contact from anyone else would have been entirely normal and innocent.  But from Barbatos, it spoke volumes.

“Are you worried?” he asked quietly.

“Maybe a little...” you admitted.  “This feels very different from having a luncheon or teatime...”

“Hm, that is true.  However, you will soon find that the young master is much the same, regardless of the time of day or the number of people at his table.  You have nothing to fear.”

Your fingers tightened between his, allowing some of your anxiety to seep out of you and into his reassuring grip.

“It’s not Diavolo that I’m afraid of...” you muttered.

Barbatos’s gaze glazed over into an unreadable expression, the rich green darkening slightly and pupils dilating.  It held you captive and you felt far too seen in that moment, the weight of his endless knowledge and infinite secrets taking everything from you while giving nothing.

For the briefest of moments, you felt the reality of what he was... more immortal being of darkness than friend.

But then his gaze softened again. Time moved forward, the infinity of the moment vanishing, and he was once again the Barbatos that you knew and adored.  His hand released your grip to cup your cheek.  The intimate gesture made your breath hitch, your eyes locked with his.

“Do not worry,” he said gently.  “You will do fine. Besides, I will also be present.”

That did bring some relief, and the tightness in your chest lessened, finally allowing the breath you’d been holding to escape.  Barbatos’s hand left your cheek as he faced the doors. He put hands on the large, iron handles and pushed them open with ease, a detail that did not go unnoticed by you as you eyed their height and thickness.

The dim gloom of the gallery hall gave way to the warm, yellow glow of a dining space that was half the size of the great hall.  By comparison it was significantly smaller; however, that didn’t account for much. The room itself was still plenty large with a table long enough to seat ten individuals at its center.  Diavolo sat at the furthest end at the head of the table, with two place settings arranged on either side of him. His hand was outstretched to the array of food in front of him, no doubt to sneak a sample, but retracted as soon as he was within yours and Barbatos’s sights.

Barbatos’s eyes narrowed, and he loudly cleared his throat in disapproval.

Diavolo pretended not to notice as his face lit up at your arrival.  “Ah, there you are!”

“Here I am,” you smiled as you approached. 

You took the seat to his left and sat as Barbatos pushed in your chair for you.

Barbatos began to fill the prince’s plate for him, but Diavolo waved him away with a laugh.  “Sit, Barbatos.  You’ve waited on me enough today.”

Barbatos paused and stared at him as if he grew a second head.  “It is my pleasure to wait on you.”

“Yes, yes, I know... but I was hoping for something more casual this evening.”

You glanced at the array of delicacies on the table, the candlesticks and elaborate centerpieces... everything spoke of grandness.

Casual. This was casual for him?

Years you’d lived here in the Devildom, and you still couldn’t quite get use to situations like this.

Barbatos hesitated for the briefest of seconds and then nodded his head in defeat.  “Very well.”

He took the empty seat across from you and your eyes locked with his.  A flush of heat washed over you and you averted your eyes.  You grabbed your glass of water and took a gulp.

Barbatos clapped his hands twice and you watched as two little Ds came out and began serving your plates.  Just because he wasn’t serving the prince apparently did not mean that the prince was meant to serve himself.

“My apologies for not hosting you in the great hall,” Diavolo commented.  “I grow tired of that big room sometimes.  Especially after hosting a major event.”

“I totally get it,” you replied.  “It does feel a bit much when there’s only a few of us.”

Diavolo brightened.  “My thoughts exactly!”

You watched as your plate was loaded, and it was then that you realized... everything on it was something you loved.  Not that you didn’t love nearly all of Barbatos’s cooking to begin with, even with the odd ingredients that were native to the Devildom.  Still, you expected at least one dish that was a favorite of Diavolo’s since it was his dinner in his castle.

Suspicious.

Your eyes caught Barbatos’s again and for a moment you thought you saw a ghost of a smirk before it vanished.  You stared a moment longer, but his expression remained as placid as always.

Diavolo and Barbatos engaged in small talk with you as everyone began to eat.  How are studies at RAD going? How is your apprenticeship with Solomon?  How are Lucifer and the brothers?

The questions were kind and genuine but also predictable.  You were beginning to get the sense that Diavolo was nervous, procrastinating on bringing up the real reason he invited you here.

You did your best to keep your eyes on your plate or on Diavolo so as not to make your interest in Barbatos obvious, but the eye of your affection sat across from you and you couldn’t help but steal glances.  Sometimes he met your gaze, and other times he did not. He watched the young master speak, addressed the Little D next to him with a whisper, or paid particular attention to the food on his plate.

God, how you wished you could read his mind...

You could feel tension growing and you weren’t sure if it was something shared with those in the room, or if it was something purely within yourself as you waited and waited for the truth of your visit.

But waiting wasn’t your strong suit.

“You know...” you ventured, “I’m curious why I’m the only one here tonight?”

“Oh? Really?” Diavolo asked with a tilt of his head.  “Haven’t we often shared private meals between the three of us?”

You knew this tone; an invitation to engage in a careful dance of exchanges, a give and take of unspoken questions and answers.  It was a game of sorts that demons often enjoyed engaging in, and you’d grown accustomed to it, learning how to play along.

“Lunches or teas, usually...” you replied, “but I think this is the first time I’ve been the only one here for dinner.”

Diavolo put his chin in his hand and looked up thoughtfully.  “Hm, I guess I never noticed.”  He looked back down at you, his smile genuine, but his eyebrows scrunched slightly with worry.  “Does it bother you?”

‘Are you scared?’  Was what he was really asking.  It was a test of trust.

You smiled reassuringly.  “Not at all.  I live in a house with seven demons.  This is a very welcome reprieve, trust me.”

‘I am enjoying the game, let us continue’  was your unspoken reply.

A hearty laugh burst from Diavolo’s chest.  “Yes, I suppose that’s true.”

“But still...” you pressed. “I’m surprised you didn’t even invite Lucifer. I’m sure he would have been happy to escape his brothers for a night.”

‘What could you possibly want to share with me that you haven’t shared with him?’

Diavolo’s smiled turned into one of darker mischief as he rested his cheek against his fist. “I’m sure he would have.”

‘Something he would do better not to know.’

Now that was interesting...

You halted, your cutlery poised in your hands on either side of your plate. You narrowed your eyes and set them down, the game coming to an end as you swiftly cut to the point.

“Okay, what’s going on here? You have Barbatos prepare all of my favorite foods, you invite me and only me to dinner, and Barbatos said in his invite that there’s something you want to discuss with me. He even promised to make me my favorite dessert.”

Diavolo’s eyebrows raised beneath his auburn strands, the golden irises glinting with mirth.  “Did he, now?”

Barbatos froze briefly in the middle of drinking his tea, then slowly lowered the cup to the small saucer.  “I will admit, my lord, she did require a little... persuasion.”

You raised a curious eyebrow at the butler but said nothing.

Diavolo released a satisfied sigh. “I do love your ability to read the nuances of a situation, and your directness has always been a breath of fresh air.  Especially after a day spent with stuffy old demons whose words always carry three or four hidden meanings, at least.  You wouldn’t believe how long conversations can drag on for, especially in a group...

“Yes, I did invite you here to discuss something.  But I wanted to discuss it without Lucifer here. He can be a bit....”

“Overbearing?” you offered.

Barbatos smirked into his teacup.

Diavolo raised an eyebrow and grinned.  “I was going to say protective.”

You suppressed a knowing smirk of your own.

“So...” you continued, “is this meant to be a secret from Lucifer then?”

“No, not in the slightest. I just simply wanted you to be able to consider the information and make the decision for yourself without external pressure.”

“Decision about what?”

“Well...” Diavolo pushed his plate forward and interlocked his fingers on the table.  “That’s what I must talk about.  The House of Lords were pleased to meet with you at the celebratory ball a few days ago.  You left a good impression on many of them.”

“But not all of them,” you stated wryly.

Barbatos’s eyes glinted and Diavolo gave a half laugh with a crooked smile.  “No, not all of them.  There are still a few who are... resistant.”

“Because I’m human.”

“Because you’re not a demon,” he corrected.  “It’s less about what you are, and more about what you are not.”

Your heart began to beat heavier in your chest, your stomach coiling with the early signs of nausea.  “But I’ve been nothing but an ally to the Devildom, have I not?”

Diavolo nodded.  “You have.”

Your throat tightened,  and your words filled with more and more tension.  “I’ve tamed the Seven Deadly Sins, helped to navigate peace with the angels, and saved the Devildom more times than I can count... what more could they want?”

More importantly, what more could you give?  When would these endless tests finally end? How much more did you have to prove yourself before you could be left alone to live a happy life with those you cared about, without being scrutinized like a bug under a microscope?

You felt the hard tip of a shoe nudge gently against yours beneath the table, and your eyes caught Barbatos’s.  His eyes were soft with understanding, his lips curled into a mellow smile.

Relax.

You took a breath and let it out slowly.  “I’m sorry,” you muttered.  “It’s just been... a lot lately.”

Diavolo stared at you for a long moment, sympathy in his gaze.  “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he reassured.  “If you decide this is not something you want to engage in, then I will smooth it over the lords. You only have to say the word.”

You sighed heavily.  “I don’t even know what ‘this’ is.”

“The lords have agreed by majority vote to expand the exchange program,” Diavolo said.

Pride swelled in your chest and your eyes widened. “Diavolo, that’s great news!”

Diavolo laughed. “Yes, it is.  However, it won’t come without restrictions.”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously.  “What sort of restrictions?”

Diavolo sighed and leaned back in his seat with his arms crossed over his broad chest.  “That has yet to be decided.  But for now, it is enough to know that support for the program is growing.  Which presents us with our next dilemma... we must strengthen our position and prepare for who we will invite next.”

Ah, finally you were beginning to understand...

“You mean like... more humans?” you replied.

“...and angels,” Barbatos chimed in.

You fell silent for a moment as you pondered the significance.  Doubt crept along your spine, icy tendrils that warned of danger.

“Is this a good idea?” you finally asked.  “You just agreed that there are still some demons who don’t like even me and Solomon being here....  won’t this just anger them more?”

“A fair question,” he sighed.  “And one that I’ve been pondering as well.  But at no point have I ever waited for a one hundred percent approval rating before making a decision.  One of the many benefits of being the prince,” he winked.  “RAD was always meant to be more than just an experiment.  And progress is only progress if things continue to move forward.”

Dread soaked you from your head to your toes, dampening your appetite. “And how would you like me to help move it forward?” you asked.

“I would like to include you in the decision-making; to utilize your expertise of humans to make the exchange program more welcoming for your kind, help us select our next three candidates, and then provide guidance for them once they arrive.”

You choked on the water you were trying to sip and coughed. “Me??  I’m hardly an expert on humans...”

“You are more of an expert than any of us,” Diavolo replied.  “In fact, many demons haven’t visited the human realm for some time now, the House of Lords included.  Their understanding of humans is a bit... outdated.”

You could feel a headache begin to form behind your eyes and you rubbed the bridge of your nose with your thumb and forefinger.  “Diavolo... there are billions of humans. Trying to narrow it down to just three will be impossible.”

“You will not be doing this alone,” Barbatos offered.  “Myself, Diavolo, and Lucifer will be involved in the process as well.”

You raised your eyebrow in doubt.  “Yes, and how long did it take you three the first time?”

A silence lingered for three seconds too long before Diavolo finally spoke.

“Well, uh...”

“Yeah, my point exactly,” you huffed.  “I’ll be long dead before you even reach a decision, let alone provide guidance.”

“The first time,” Barbatos said, “The entire process was new for everyone. The second time will be quicker, we assure you. The young prince would not bestow this task to you if was outside of your realm of capabilities.”

“Well, why not ask Solomon?” you asked.  “At least he is immortal...”

“I have a different offer for him with regards to RAD,” Diavolo replied.

Curiosity made your eyebrow raise.  “Oh?”

“Yes, you see, I realized that it would help the exchange program if we expand our RAD staff to include human and angel faculty.”

Your eyes widened and you stifled a laugh.  “You... you want Solomon to teach? What on earth would the subject be?”

“I was thinking human world history.  After all, he’s been alive for such a long time, and was likely there to witness most of it... I’m rather excited to hear his personal recounting of events...”

Diavolo had that look again, the one that made him seem younger than he was, all excitement and wide-eyed wonder.

You had no doubt that Solomon’s penchant for mischief would lead to a rather biased and inflated account of even the most mundane of historic events.

“Solomon teaching history... that’ll be interesting...” you muttered.  “Has he accepted?”

“I haven’t asked him yet,” Diavolo confessed.  “But it’s more than that... you have a far better approval rating amongst the populace than Solomon does.  If we’re to allow a human to participate in the expansion of the program, then you are clearly the better candidate.”

A laugh escaped your lips and you clamped your hand over your mouth.  “I-I’m sorry,” you said. “It’s just... this is not what I expected. I thought you were going to need help for another event, or another trial I’d have to go through or something for the House of Lords... but this?”

You gulped your water, but it didn’t satisfy.  A million thoughts were flooding your head at once, pros and cons, unspoken implications and all the ways that you could clearly fail...

RAD studies, living with and managing the brothers, sorcerer apprenticeship, the student council, the judgment and scrutiny of an entire population...

It was too much, too much.

You could feel your heartbeat pounding against your sternum, and it felt harder and harder to breathe... and was the room warmer? Couldn’t someone open a window??

“Perhaps a short recess is in order before dessert?” Barbatos suggested.

His voice sounded distant, muted against the sound of your pulse rushing in your ears.  Your eyes were stuck to your plate, but you forced them up to look at him.  He stared back at you, but the panic was drowning out whatever it was that his gaze was trying to communicate.

“Yes,” Diavolo agreed. “A good idea, Barbatos.”

You hadn’t even realized that Barbatos had left his seat until you heard his voice next to you.

“Will you walk with me?”

You looked towards his voice to see his hand stretched out, palm up. You stared at it, before absently taking it with your own.  He gently tugged your arm and you stood slowly.

Barbatos looked at Diavolo and provided a bow.  “We shall return shortly, my lord.”

So much said in so little a statement, and Diavolo understood all of it.  He gave a nod.

“Yes. Thank you, Barbatos.”

And suddenly Barbatos’s hand was guiding you out of the dining room and into the quiet and dim gallery. The further you moved away from the room, the more your surroundings returned to clarity.

“Come,” he ordered gently.

You didn’t question him, and you didn’t take note of where he led you, trusting him implicitly to take you somewhere private, somewhere safe.

If you’d allowed yourself the mental wherewithal to think of where he’d take you, you would have assumed the gardens or observatory; a place where you could see the sky, where the vastness of the heavens above you would free the weight from your shoulders.

Instead, he took you to the piano room.

The same one he’d found you in days prior.

The same one where he’d kissed you.

Your heart froze in your throat, your skin prickling and tightening into goosebumps.

A single thought broke through the chaotic hum of your mind and you finally found your voice again.

“Why did you bring me here?” you asked.

“It seemed to be a place you like to come to for comfort,” Barbatos replied.  “Would you prefer a different place to gather yourself?”

 You turned to him and stared, only to be met by his neutral gaze. Your eyes searched and dug for a sign of something more, desperate for a rock to cling to in a churning sea, and finally you found it... the most subtle furrow of his brow, the ever so slight downward turn of his mouth. He was concerned for you.

It was small, but it was enough.

You crossed your arms over your chest protectively.  “No, no.... you’re right. I like it here.”

But instead of sitting and calming yourself, you paced, your feet moving you back and forth in front of the tall windows where starlight poured in. Barbatos watched, waiting, allowing you the space you needed to process and organize your thoughts.

“I don’t understand,” you muttered.  “Why me?  Why does he think I can do this?  Help pick out the next three humans to come here? And guide them?  What if they don’t even speak the same language as me? Do you know how many human languages there are? Thousands! Literally thousands! And how am I supposed to know what qualities to look for in a person?�� Are they qualities that demons will respect or want?  Are we ruling out certain age groups? I mean, obviously no children, but that still leaves so many... and what about Solomon? That sly bastard... did he know about this? Why does he get to teach history while I have to be the one to search for three needles in a haystack...”

On and on your rambled, your words spilling from your mouth in a disorganized heap and you hated it, hated the way you were losing control of yourself.  Barbatos’s reserved nature was more painful than it was helpful, he’s own calm resilience put in stark contrast to your own emotional state.  Surely he was disgusted with you, found your emotional outburst unbecoming...

But then you felt his gloved hand grasp yours, heard your name spoken with gentle firmness on his lips.  The interruption halted your pacing, and you turned to look at him, your eyes wide.

His gaze was soft, his touch secure and warm, and it grounded you instantly. 

“Breathe,” he ordered, “before your damage your fragile human heart.”

You couldn’t help but smile and give a small laugh.  “I don’t break that easily...”

Barbatos smiled in amusement and gently pulled you closer to him. “One can never be too careful. Now talk to me.  What exactly is troubling you?”

You were inches apart now, and the closeness of him made your heart begin to race for a different reason.

“I already told you—” you started.

“No,” he replied, cutting you off.  “That was not talking a moment ago, that was panic. You scarcely even acknowledged my presence.”

You stared up at him for a moment, your mouth opening and closing as you struggled to organize your conglomeration of worries into something cohesive.

“Ah,” Barbatos noted.  “Perhaps I can assist.  Earlier you had stated it wasn’t the young master you were worried about.  What did you mean by that?”

You searched your memory for the moment outside the dining room doors as you stared at the details of Barbatos’s clothing.

“I... was worried about the House of Lords.”

“Why?”

“Because I know not all of them approve of me.  And I know they likely talked with Diavolo after I met them at the ball.”

“Hm,” he commented.

You shot him a playful glare. “Hm? What kind of response is that?”

Barbatos’s lip curled into a half smirk. “It is the kind that is appropriate for this moment.”  He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Continue. What do you suspect they talked about?”

You stared off to the side as your thoughts returned to Diavolo’s request at the dinner table.  Your thoughts began falling rapidly into an organized pattern, a series of what ifs and consequences.

“I fail, then it’s going to give the opposition everything they want,” you said.

Your response didn’t answer his question, but Barbatos’s eyes glinted anyway, and his lips curled into a smile.  “Splendid. I see you are already three steps ahead.”

Your mind continued working.  “If I don’t participate in expanding RAD for more humans, then it’ll negatively impact the influence humans can have moving forward. What good is a human on the student council if they’re not even a part of selecting the future exchange students?  My position would be in title only and wouldn’t bear much weight. It would make me look either irresponsible, or too afraid to make major decisions.”

“A valid point,” Barbatos agreed.  “Your position as a student council officer was not given lightly and it would be a waste to not utilize it to its full potential.”

You fell silent for a moment, and Barbatos gave your hand another gentle squeeze.

“Continue,” he said.

“If I do participate in the selection process, then that will also carry its own risk.  If for any reason the candidates I help select end up being a poor fit for the program, then it will not only call into question my skills but will reflect poorly on humanity as a whole.”  Another realization came on the heels of the previous, and you looked up at Barbatos, your eyes wide. “The opposition will try to sabotage any new candidates that arrive here.  They’ll try to make them fail.”

Barbatos’s smile faded to neutrality.  “A likely possibility. Of course, we will do what we can to mitigate such attempts.”

Your brow furrowed for a moment.  “Why didn’t they try to sabotage me?”

Barbatos’s smile returned but it was entirely devoid of warmth.  “They did.  We stopped them before you fell into such traps.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Oh...”

“Although to be honest,” Barbatos added with a slight tilt of his head, “your celestial heritage makes you particularly resilient to demonic influence, which made our work infinitely easier.  Plus, we didn’t have to protect you for long... you managed formulate pacts with the brothers rather quickly, which only strengthened your resistance and deterred anyone with half of a brain.”

You flushed beneath his gaze and looked to the side again as you continued thinking.  “This will put more pressure on me with all of my other duties, which is what they want.  If I can’t handle it all, then they’ll call me incompetent. And if I give up anything, then it’ll lessen my impact and undo all that I’ve worked for.  I’m sure they’d love nothing more than to see me vanish into obscurity, bogged down for decades behind mountains of paperwork about human candidates.”

Barbatos nodded in agreement.  “There are those who would gladly take advantage of your short lifespan.”

“Of course they would....” you muttered. “Diavolo knows all of this too.  And he knows he has to offer me this responsibility or it will look poorly on both of us if he doesn’t.  That was why he didn’t inform Lucifer.  He knew Lucifer would try to talk me out of it.”

“The decision must be yours and yours alone,” Barbatos said. “The young prince did state that you can refuse.  It will not be the first roadblock he’s encountered, and I assure you he will overcome it as he���s done with all of the others.”

“No, no...” you muttered.  “He’s worked this hard already... who knows how long this will set back the program and humanity’s place amongst the three realms if I refuse.”

“And thus you understand that all of our hands are tied.” Barbatos said quietly.

A heavy silence fell for a moment before you finally spoke again.

“I have to be perfect...” you muttered.  “Anything less will be used against me, one way or another.”

Barbatos tilted your chin up to look at him.  He smiled down at you, a hint of mischief glinting in his timeless gaze.  “Luckily for you, you have me.  And I happen to be an expert at perfection.”

You stared into his eyes, and it felt like weightlessness and falling at the same time. 

“Do I?” you whispered.

“Hm?”

His stare made you so vulnerable it ached.  The burning sensation of impending tears itched behind your eyes, but you fought it down.

“Do I have you?”

There was a moment of silence as Barbatos’s smile faded and his gaze stretched like the infinite darkness. It terrified you and called to you, and the longer you held his gaze, the less ‘human’ he seemed.

Then he leaned in and kissed you, gentle and feather soft, and the ethereal demon was once again a man. It felt hesitant, as if he feared he’d break you, but his lips were warm and real, and you leaned into it, grateful for the contact.

It was over too soon, his back straightening and your eyes fluttered open.

He smiled at you tenderly.  “Of course,” he answered.

Relief pushed back the clouds of dread that your impending new responsibility had summoned forth and you smiled at him.  Barbatos’s pupils dilated slightly, his own lips curling into a smile of his own, and his thumb gently caressed the apple of your cheek before taking your other hand in his.

“So tell me, star of mine... what shall we tell the young prince?”

You let the love-haze linger for a few seconds as his pet name echoed through every crevasse in your body, mind, and soul.  One. Two. Three.  Then you closed your eyes and pushed it down, stashing it away to savor for later.

When you opened your eyes again, you were once again firmly seated into your position of power. Apprentice of Solomon. Keeper of the Deadly Sins.  RAD student council member.

And above all else, human.

“I will tell him that I will accept his offer,” you stated firmly.

Barbatos smiled fully, and it lit up his face in the most beautiful ways.  He took your chin in his thumb and forefinger and stared into your eyes as if he were checking for something.  “Ah,” he commented.  “There she is.  Welcome back.”

Chapter 3

[dailyanarchistposts]

How Peace Came to the Rotinonshón:ni

Aiewáhtha Wampum Belt [9]

The story of the formation of the Rotinonshón:ni has been passed down by oral tradition, by reciting the Kaianere’kó:wa. This recitation has been done in at least five similar languages and translated and transcribed into English in multiple versions. There are many variations, and no definitive version. [10]

In a version of the story common at Ohswé:ken, [11] Tekanawí:ta was born under mysterious circumstances to a Wendat mother, along the Bay of Quinte. [12] After a difficult childhood, Tekanawí:ta left his community to bring the message of peace to the Iroquois. He traveled south across Kaniatarí:io, where he encountered Aiewáhtha preparing a meal. Aiewáhtha, grieving for lost loved ones, was planning to a eat a man he had slain in vengenance. Tekanawí:ta conducted a condolence ceremony for Aiewáhtha, so as to end the blood feuding. He convinced Aiewáhtha to eat only of the flesh of deer, not man. Finally, he persuaded Aiewáhtha to give up war and to help him bring peace to the Iroquois.

According to a women’s oral tradition, [13] Tekanawí:ta then approached the head clan mother, Tsikónhsase.[14] Tsikónhsase, of the Kakwa:ko (Neutral) nation, had provisioned warriors and also administered disputes. [15] She agreed to support Tekanawí:ta’s efforts for peace if he agreed to codify into the Kaianere’kó:wa several powers and responsibilities for women: matrilineality of clans, the clan as the basis of popular sovereignty, and the collective ownership of agricultural land by women. Barbara Mann, Shotinontowane’á:ka author and professor of Native American Studies, views the underlying conflict of the era in terms of the material culture of production. She describes the conflict as one between women-led agriculturists and the cannibalistic hunters, led by Thatotáhrho. Tekanawí:ta’s role was to unite the warring factions, establish both farming and hunting as modes of production, and abolish cannibalism. [16]

Tekanawí:ta, Aiewáhtha and Tsikónhsase visited a series of Iroquois communities. Having gone to the Kanien’kehá:ka and gained their support, they visited the Oneniote’á:ka, gaining their acceptance as well. Next they visited the Ononta’kehá:ka, but were rebuffed by Thatotáhrho. They then gained the support of the Kaion’kehá:ka, and finally visited the westernmost nation—the Shotinontowane’á:ka. All of the Shotinontowane’á:ka were convinced except their two principal war chiefs; these were brought into agreement and designated as the ratihnhohanónhnha, the doorkeepers, responsible for protecting the long house of the Rotinonshón:ni from enemies to the west. Having convinced all of the Shotinontowane’á:ka, they returned to the Ononta’kehá:ka, and there was a mighty struggle with Thatotáhrho.[17] Tsikónhsase devised a solution, suggesting to Tekanawí:ta that the council fire of the Rotinonshón:ni could be with the Ononta’kehá:ka, and that Thatotáhrho should become its keeper. [18]

Tekanawí:ta had several other innovations for the Rotinonshón:ni polity. The fifty men who would make decisions through consensus at the council fire were named roiá:ner, and they would wear deer horns to represent that they had forsaken war and ate only the flesh of deer, not of men. The roiá:ner were to have skins “seven spans thick”: they would be patient, not easily offended. Tekanawí:ta named each of the roiá:ner, and stated that their names would be requickened when they died (or were removed from office) and returned to the clan mothers, the iotiiá:ner. The iotiiá:ner had the responsibility of selecting new roiá:ner, though never the son of the previous roiá:ner. The iotiiá:ner would also have the authority to recall roiá:ner from office. A provision was made for further speakers to be added to the council at Ononta’kehá:ka, men who had merit and had sprung up like a Pine Tree—“Ohnkaneto:ten.” The Ohnkaneto:ten would have voices but not votes; their appointment would die with them and not be transferred. Further, the great good way, the Kaianere’kó:wa, could be amended by “adding to the rafters” of the longhouse.

The weapons of war were buried beneath the tree of peace, so that there would be no further war among the nations of the Rotinonshón:ni. [19] (The English idiom, “burying the hatchet,” originates with the Rotinonshón:ni.) The tree’s four white roots of peace stretched to the cardinal directions, spreading the good tidings. There were rules for adoption of individuals and whole nations, to follow the roots, find shelter beneath the tree of peace, and join the Rotinonshón:ni. The condolence ceremony for those who were in grief was described, as well as the use of wampum. The Rotinonshón:ni would be guided by principles of “peace, power and righteousness.” The last issue that Tekanawí:ta resolved was about hunting territory: Tekanawí:ta declared that all Rotinonshón:ni would share the hunt and “eat of one bowl.” [20]

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Ed Pilkington at The Guardian:

The American Civil Liberties Union, a leading defender of rights and freedoms enshrined in the US constitution, has drafted several major lawsuits it is prepared to file should Donald Trump try to wield excessive or unlawful power at the start of his second presidency, which starts on Monday.

Cecillia Wang, the ACLU’s recently appointed national legal director, said the organisation was fully set, with plaintiffs lined up and legal complaints already written. The incoming president’s plans to mass-deport millions of undocumented immigrants, his threats to pursue vendettas against his political enemies and his talk of mobilising the military for domestic purposes, are all squarely in the ACLU’s sights. In an interview with the Guardian, Wang declined to put a number to the lawsuits that are ready to roll, saying: “I’m not keeping count.” But she added: “We’ve been fleshing out the legal theories, drafting briefs, working with prospective plaintiffs. We’re preparing for litigation in earnest.” The organization is already primed to file suit under the 14th amendment, Wang said, against any move by Trump to end birthright citizenship. The president-elect has made eradicating the right bestowed by the constitution on any child born within the US a pillar of his second-term objectives. “We are ready to file a lawsuit to challenge any attack Trump launches on birthright citizenship – the complaint is essentially drafted, we’re lining up plaintiffs in the case,” she said.

On Sunday, the ACLU marks its 105th anniversary. It was founded in 1920 with the mission of protecting conscientious objectors in the wake of the first world war and so-called radicals amid the anti-communist frenzy that followed the Russian revolution. On Monday, the organisation faces arguably its biggest test when Trump returns to the Oval Office threatening to blow up many of the core rights and liberties that form the ACLU’s bedrock. Wang views Trump’s plans as an existential threat to a range of individual rights and freedoms protected by the constitution. She points to free speech and association safeguarded by the first amendment, the fourth amendment firewall against unlawful arrest and excessive force and the equal protection clause the ACLU is using to defend the rights of transgender people against sex discrimination. “From his efforts going after immigrants, attacking the very idea of protest, his threats to call out the military and threats to go after transgender and LGBTQ Americans – all these things tear at the heart of US democracy and society,” she said.

[...] The organization helped put a stop to family separation at the Mexican border, prevented a citizenship question from being inserted into the 2020 census and forced the contentious Muslim travel ban to be rewritten twice before the supreme court finally approved it. The ACLU also pushed back relentlessly on Trump’s other policies, winning a major victory in 2020 prohibiting employment discrimination against gay and transgender workers. After the supreme court abolished the constitutional right to abortion – a decision that came during Joe Biden’s term but fulfilled a core Trump promise – the ACLU and its affiliates immediately filed lawsuits to protect reproductive rights in almost a dozen states.

With the return of Donald Trump to the White House tomorrow, the ACLU is prepping up to fight Trump’s attacks on civil liberties.

[azdoine]

TLT meta be like: I predict the books will end with the end of necromancy because necromancy is fueled by death and a problematic fantasy series would never fail to abolish socially sanctioned murder. also all the Lyctors are going to have to give up their immortality in the process of abolishing necromancy and the survivors will live out the rest of their days (until they die) building a cozy cottage on a planet where everyone consumes the flesh of dead plants and animals for sustenance and all work energy is ultimately derived from the fusion metabolism of dying stars, who are also people

[nardo-headcanons]

it's been an age since i've been into naruto, and now that i have plans on making my own version on how naruto shippuden ended, i was wondering, how do you think naruto shippuden should've ended? like are you pro or anti naruhina? pro or anti sasusaku? whats your opinions on how the fourth war was played out? if you already spoke about this i'm sorry lol but im just wondering.

OMG HIIIIIIII @ofrolysdogs you're one of my OGs! How have you been????? Please please tag me or let me know once you create your rework. that sounds so intriguing!

This post is gonna be controversial, beauties.

How do you think Naruto Shippuden should've ended?

Ideally, with Naruto realizing that he doesn't need to become hokage to get the attention and validation from the people he loves and cares about. Or at the very least, with Naruto becoming hokage but abolishing the shinobi system. Maybe even make Danzo hokage along the way, just when Tsunade falls into her coma, and slowly make Naruto question the system more and more. Also, Sasuke's whole "redemption" arc should have been handled differently. First and foremost, he was a victim. He did a few things that were wrong, and I agree that there need to be consequences, but for this redemption arc I'd rather have him travel around and teach people around the world about the customs and culture of the Uchiha.

Are you pro or anti naruhina? pro or anti sasusaku?

I am both Anti NaruHina and Anti SasuSaku, but for two different reasons. I used to be a hardcore SNS shipper, but not so much nowadays. NaruHina had so much potential, they could have explored their class and privilege differences together, learning from each other and stuff. But Neji dying for their ship to sail? That was a hate crime. The reason I'm Anti SasuSaku is because I simply don't really like the thought of shipping Sasuke with anyone. He has enough to go through and putting him in a romantic relationship is not something that would make it more interesting or add stakes to it, although I wouldn't mind seeing him adopt a kid or two, given how family oriented Sasuke is.

Whats your opinions on how the fourth war was played out? I found the use of Edo tensei very interesting, albeit a little cheapened here and there. The Itachi and Sasuke vs Kabuto fight was a little disappointing. Don't get me wrong, I loved seeing he two of them fight together side by side, and Itachi's final parting was very touching - but them fighting Kabuto of all people? Maybe if Kishi fleshed out Kabuto's story a little more, he clearly had no idea what to do with him. Poor bastard.

Madara just 'knowing' the hand signs of edo tensei is actually not so unlikely, but it still irks me how he was able to just "come back" when Edo Tensei was released.

And let's not talk about the power scaling, which went completely through the roof in the end. Oof. Kaguya, as is, ruined the storyline completely. It could have worked, but not in the way it was executed in shippuden.

But alas, I suppose there is only so much Kishi can do within the confines of a genre.