#demon summoner

[bringingdapperback]

I'd sacrifice bacteria for a good brie

…

(to be fair. it was very good brie)

[cobeeli]

Aziraphale tried to summon his missing demon but somehow the instructions were a bit unclear.

[dsamuelsonart]

The Cat Summoned a Demon Again Oil on paper fixed to a panel, 16 x 20". 2023.

[seekingdandelions]

The Spirit Loft - Short Story

Caelum lit the last candle in the circle and sat back, crossing his legs. The smell of salt drifted through the loft, making the boy’s nose crinkle. He shook his head, as though that might banish the scent. When that didn’t work, he rubbed at his nose, decided to ignore it,  and picked up the stack of paper by his knee. His notes had seen better days. Caelum had roughly torn the pages from his school notebook, blanketed them in scribbles and stamped it with a few coffee stains for good measure. However, the boy seemed undeterred by their condition, as he flipped through the disorganised pages.

Halfway down the first page, blue ink switched to black, and then briefly to red. As he read, Caelum could feel the whispers growing in ferocity, desperate to pull him away from the dusty loft. Caelum pushed them aside, raising his voice.

‘“Circle of salt, thirteen candles, runes of my choosing, clear intentions”… Everything seems in order, wouldn’t you guys agree?’ he called into the empty room. 

Caelum wasn’t sure who he was addressing. The constant murmuring never stopped, but it was rarely clear. It was like being in a city centre on Christmas Eve, trying to hone in on a dozen different conversations.  A single voice, scratchy and teetering on the edge of coherence, rose above the static in Caelum’s ears. ‘Stop,’ it hissed.

Pressing his lips together, the boy folded up his notes and set them on the floor, ignoring the ghost’s plea. His shadow swayed across the slanted wall, projected by the candlelight. Caelum’s mum would be home soon. He wasn’t sure how she would react to his setup. He could imagine that her signature eye twitch would be involved, but it was a complete mystery from there.

Probably best to get on with it.

After clearing his throat, he recited; ‘With this offering of fire and salt, I invite you to my land, providing you abide by my command.’ The individual flames perked up, as though they were listening intently. Caelum noticed, allowing a hint of confidence to seep into his voice. ‘Do not leave this circle of binding salt. Provide me with the knowledge and protection I seek, and in return, I will provide you with compensation. With my intentions set, I summon you, demon.’

The spirits fell silent. Caelum’s grey eyes drifted through the loft. Empty. No demon. He frowned, reaching for his notes. 

Has something gone wrong? Maybe he should have written the incantation himself. The online one had felt a little juvenile...

Without warning, thirteen candles flared with white-hot intensity. Rogue flames consumed the wicks with a crackle, leaving behind thirteen piles of molten red wax. Just as suddenly as they had swelled, the fire faltered and flatlined. Caelum bolted up, disoriented by the sudden eclipse. His notes plummeted to the floor.

Caelum took a shaky step back, eyes twitching through the loft. The boy was hardly an expert in the paranormal, but the goosebumps grabbing at his flesh weren’t a good sign. The sudden presence he could feel wasn’t filling him with hope either. It forced him further back, continuing to overwhelm him once his back was pressed to the slanted wall.

Caelum heard a deep, unravelling sigh, followed by a bang. ‘Ow! Curse these mortals and their low ceilings…’  Something had definitely gone wrong.

The spirits remained silent. Something deep within his gut twisted, sending bile to burn his throat. ‘S-Show yourself!’ he demanded weakly.

A bright blue light sparked in front of him. Caelum shrank back against it, shielding his eyes with a quivering hand. He could feel the floorboards dip as the demon moved closer.

Caelum prised his eyes open, catching a glimpse of the figure. The light had sparked from the demon’s palm, illuminating its features. However, Caelum didn’t know where to look. Should he focus on the skeletal mask or the brash raven wings? Would it be rude to stare at the demon’s long eagle-like legs and talons? The human head and torso were rather odd, but a welcome sight nonetheless. His hair was dark, similar to Caelum’s, but his eyes were hidden. He was tall too, towering over Caelum with ease.

More importantly, he had breezed past his summoning circle.

‘So…’ Caelum muttered. He could feel the flesh around his neck tingling, on edge. ‘I take it the summoning circle was a bust?’

‘Mhm,’ the demon responded. ‘Let me guess: you bought the salt from a supermarket? Cheaped out on the off-brand stuff?’ 

Caelum nodded a little too quickly, eyes trained on the floor. If he focused on it long enough, maybe he would fall through it. ‘The candles were rather pricey, y’see, and one pound seemed too expensive for salt. And there was always the chance that this wouldn’t work, and I don’t add salt to my meals, so I would have half a tub of salt leftover, and-’

‘Stop talking,’ the demon cut in, reaching behind the mask to rub his temples. His voice seemed familiar to Caelum. Was it similar to a celebrity’s voice? Maybe it the demon moonlighted as a celebrity. Or daylighted, perhaps. ‘Listen, kid, I don’t have all day. Some wise guy wrote an article about demon summoning, it got a lot of traction, now we’re working overtime. It’s a real mess. So, if you’ll excuse me…’

The light dimmed in the demon’s palm. His vast wings followed behind him as he turned around. Caelum couldn’t help but stare. Had things gone according to plan? No, the plan was in shambles, there was a mask-wearing bird demon in his loft.

He snapped back to the moment, remembering what he had set out to do. ‘Hey, wait, I didn’t mean to ramble about salt! I had a reason for summoning you. A legitimate reason, I mean.’

The demon turned back to face him, the light highlighting the hollows in his skull mask. ‘Oh?’

‘I had a dream a few weeks ago. In that dream, I saw myself laying out this summoning circle. The visuals were foggy, but… I remember what I felt. I felt like this was my only option. That this,’ he gestured around the loft, ‘was my last chance.’

‘That’s nice. I dreamt I was a whale one time. You don’t see me diving in the ocean! Not with a body like this, anyways. Quit while you’re ahead, kid.’ Caelum was taken aback by how… casual the demon was acting. It was like watching a rottweiler do a tap-dancing routine.  

Still, Caelum was determined to argue his case, even if it ended in an infernal lecture. ‘For as long as I can remember, I’ve been able to hear… strange things.  Screaming, laughing, whispering…’ Distantly, a humming was starting up again. The silence had been nice while it lasted.

Caelum continued, ‘At first, I thought I was going mad. But then I realised it was something else.’ He crossed his arms over his chest. ‘I know it’s ghosts. Figured that much, at least.’

‘Alright, you have some weird psychic stuff going on. And you decided you needed a demon because..?’ 

Desperation took over for a split second, blooming into an outburst. ‘Because I want you to get rid of it! Demons make pacts, right? Fix me. Please.’ 

The demon groaned. ‘Do I look like a priest to you? Making pacts with demons is dangerous. Trust me. It’ll cost you.’

‘Years off my life, right?’ The demon nodded in response and scratched at his wing. One of his feathers fell, landing in one of the wax puddles. They would be annoying to clean, but that was a problem for later. ‘That doesn’t bother me. I’m going to live ‘til I’m eighty-two. I have years to spare.’

The demon stopped mid-scratch. ‘What did you just say?’

‘That I’ll live until I’m eighty-two. I’ll die from a heart attack, I think. Though, I’m not too sure about that. Medical crises are kind of… murky,’ Caelum responded indifferently. ‘I can usually get a sense for that sort of thing. My uncle died a few years ago. I told him not to get on that plane, but he didn’t listen.’ 

A handful of salt leapt forward as the demon rushed back to Caelum. A hand closed around his wrist. Caelum went rigid.

The demon’s voice lost all humour, growing harsh; ‘Seeing death… That’s a demon’s ability, boy.’ His grip tightened, drawing a wince from Caelum. ‘What’s your name?’

‘It’s Caelum.’

‘Caelum Weaver?’

Caelum nodded. 

The demon let go of his arm, took a step back, and wheezed a laugh. Caelum let out a shaky sigh, cradling his wrist. The boy watched with wide eyes as the skull mask was torn from the demon’s face. The blue light hovered to the side of the room, observing the situation. 

The discarded skull mask clattered against the floor. Caelum saw the demon’s features and tried not to choke. ‘Dad?!’

His father, whose face looked exactly the same as it had ten years prior, stretched into an awkward smile. ‘The, uh… the line at the cigarette counter was really long. You’ve certainly grown up, Caelum.’

Caelum blinked. Before he could think up a response, the loft shook violently as the front door opened. His father shot him a quizzical glance.

‘I’m home!’ Caelum’s mother yelled, slamming the door behind her. The loft shuddered once more. Even under blue light, Caelum could see the colour drain from the demon’s face. ​ Caelum mumbled a curse as the onlooking spirits broke into a chorus of tittering laughter.

(Originally posted on https://seekingdandelions.weebly.com/)

[dcxdpdabbles]

The Summoned Demon Part 4

#Holiday Requests I would love updates to Child Support, The Summoned Demon, and Passion For Fashion

Danny had no idea where he was.

No one around him could understand what he was saying, and he couldn't read anything either. After running through the suburbs, Danny had made his way on foot into the large city. There was nothing familiar about where the cults had summoned him to.

Everything looked wrong. The clothes, the cars, the street ads, and even the people. He stood on the side of a corner, attempting to make heads or tails of his surroundings, but people passed by him like water in a river.

It must have been the fact he was covered in dirt.

Thankfully, a group of teens had been willing to stop his frantic shouting. One girl had snapped her fingers, then waved rectangular screens at him- What was that thing?- speaking into it.

The rectangular screen spoke in what he thinks is a different language, but not anything Danny could understand. Her face fell but she seemed determined to get him to talk into her rectangle. When he did, it gave her soft buz like the ones that are played on game shows where a constant gets a wrong answer.

The girl had looked at her companions, utterly lost, until one of them stepped forward and started playing charades. There were a lot of vague hand motions and desperate gestures when he attempted to explain his situation, and the children were able to direct him to the police station.

No one on staff was able to translate what he was saying. However, they did seem mighty alarmed by how he was covered in dirt and speaking a foreign language. They had given him some water and a change of clothes and sat him in a room with a two-way mirror. Danny felt safe knowing the authorities were on his side, sipping his water at the little table while he waited.

Time moved slowly when more and more police officers entered, attempting to establish communication with him. They placed a list of writing in front of him, each line a different symbol, and he knew they were meant to be a language.

The aging man with white streaks dusting his red hair adjusted his glasses, then pointed to the first sentence on the list. Danny said something slowly, patting his chest with an open palm, then pointing more determinedly at the line.

"Is that your language?" Danny asks, scanning the lines and realizing he can't read one. He shakes his head "I'm sorry I don't understand."

The old man frowns then stands. He places a chocolate bar on the table- or what Danny thinks is one, he can't read what it says, and it's quickly frustrating- before heading out of the room. A few more minutes go by when a man wearing one of the police uniforms but a long, more outdated one walks through the door.

Danny blinks up at him as the man carefully considers his face. He avoids looking at the bullet holes decorating the cop's chest. "Wow, you seem pretty young. Wonder what you did to get old Gordon to personally question you?"

Danny chances to look at the two-way mirror before muttering. "I didn't do anything, sir. I got kidnapped."

The man turns around, arms still folded over his chest, but the second he realizes the door has remained firmly shut, he whirls around, gawking at Danny. "You can see me?"

"Yes, sir. I'm half ghost on my mother's side." He jokes but still maintains a level of respect. The Fentons joked around often, but they always respected those in service until the person proved unworthy of the uniform.

"Holy shit!" The policeman laughs. "I don't think you can pass down the family tree like that kid."

Danny cracks a smile. "You be surpirse."

"Guess I am. Who knew I would be shocked twice after my death?!" The man's jolly laugh makes Danny relax just a little. He doesn't even mind that the ghost's heaving chest is splatting a few drops of red on the table. "Haven't laughed like that in years. By the way, kid, my name is Alex. Alex Anderson."

"I'm Danny Fenton." Danny smiles, offering his hand for a shake. Alex hesitates, reaching out only to have his face brighten when he makes solid contact and eagerly pumps their joint limbs up and down. "It's nice to meet you, sir."

"Pleasure is all mine." Alex claps his hands, settling- somewhat as he goes slightly through the metal- in the chair opposite Danny. He laces his fingers under his chin and offers another impish grin. "So what's this about a kidnapping?"

Danny straightens, rapidly recapping his last few days. Alex doesn't interrupt, listening with an intensity that tells Danny he's being taken seriously even if he's still smiling like there is nothing wrong in the world. When Danny is done, he has to take a breath and top off his drink as Alex considers his words.

"That's a rough couple of days, Kid," Alex says at the end, leaning more on his hands. Danny nods sadly, feeling utterly exhausted. He's not sure where the nice older man went, but no one had come to check up on him for a while, and he's starting to feel cagy.

Alex considers him a little longer before throwing his head back with a sigh. "Alright. I guess I need to help you escape. I feel too guilty if I just let Gordon hand you over."

"What?"

Alex stands, pretending to stretch his arms over his head. He nods to the two-way mirror, clicking his tongue at it. "Yeah, Gordon called Batman a while ago when they were trying to figure out your language. This place will be swarming with vigilantes and their magic users any minute now."

"Batman?" Danny repeats, rising to his feet. "What's Batman?"

"The guy who put you in that cave cage." Alarm fills Danny's veins as he realizes that this whole time, the police were setting him up to be returned to the cultist. Was the entire city in on this!? "Normally, I wouldn't be making deals with people Gordon deems unsafe, but given that you're half ghost, I've chosen to ignore my morals in solitary."

"But why?! Why would they give me back to them!?" He demands, rising to his feet and backing away until his back hits a wall.

"I was Gordon's first partner," Alex tells him, gesturing at his chest. "I died to make sure the idiot got back to his wife and kids. Ever since he's done everything he could to make Gotham safe. As much as Batman makes me uneasy, he is doing a good job cleaning this place up and doing what I can't do anymore. I'm trapped inside this building, but I've seen the bats plenty of times, so I know they are not dangerous. I also know they will not shoot first or ask questions later; this is your only chance to get away until you can establish communication. Take it."

Alex gestures to the wall behind Danny. "Can you faze through?"

Danny lets himself sink through the stone just as the door is kicked up, and three cops rush in with raised guns. He ends up in another interrogation room- because that's where he was. They had not placed him somewhere safe; they had set him up for capture- where a man handcuffed to the table screams. Danny apologizes desperately, trying to get the guy to stop yelling, as Alex yanks him by the collar of his shirt.

"No time for manners, Kid! You have to get out of the building. Bat's just landed on the roof!" Danny races through the walls, ignoring the people who shout and scatter at his sight until Alex leads him straight out of the building. The ghost stops behind a window, where chains had manifested and wrapped around him, preventing him from going forward.

Alex doesn't seem to pay them any mind as he points in a direction. "Head that way until you see a giant clown. The Joker is currently in custody, but there are thousands of ghosts in his old hideout. Someone is bound to know what to do. If that fails follow the road with the white bricks to Old Gotham. Lots of Magic rooted there. Maybe you'll find something."

"How do you know that?"

"My mom was a professional card reader. I inherited some of her ability to sense the paranormal, and trust me when I say Old Gotham always felt cursed." Alex pauses before tilting his head. "If you ever get to talk to Gordon, tell him I forgive him. And the key to our treasure is at our old hideout. Tell him I still love him even if he picked her."

Danny's eyes fill with water. "I promise."

"Good." There was a loud thump as a man in a trench coat raced down the hallway, aiming his glowing hands at Danny. Alex threw himself before the bright yellow beam, spreading his arms wide as he made a shield. For a second, Danny's vision overlaps with a similar image of Alex blocking a young redhead man in the same position. "Now go, Kid!"

Danny shifts into Phantom, flying at his top speed without further comment. Behind him, he hears someone with a British accent swear, and Alex's cries of pain nearly cause him to forge turn intangible when he flies through traffic.

There had to be some way he could find a living person who understood him

_____________________________________________________

"What happened?" Bruce demands as John pushes something in a jar. Since it looks like an impressive mime trick, he's fairly sure it's actually a ghost causing problems for the Brit.

"Bloody demon had help from a human soul," The blond grunted, grabbing at the air. "Stubborn one that seemed convinced it was helping a child."

"Why?"

"Hmm?"

Bruce feels his eyebrow twitch but remains impassive overall. Right now, he's Batman, and Batman does not let emotions cloud his mind. "Why would a ghost think it was helping a child? Demons can't hide their nature from paranormals. John, are we chasing a child?"

"Normally, I would say, yeah, the thing is a child, but this one isn't your average spook. It's powerful. You saw it, right? The demon shifted forms, and I couldn't even see its second form until the two bright rings of light. If it could fool me into thinking the human flesh suit was its real form, it can easily fool a ghost."

"If it's so powerful," Tim cuts in, walking towards the pair with a floating hologram from his wrist. The integration room security camera plays on it, displaying the demon calmly sipping water. "Then why didn't it escaped before? All it did for three hours before Gordon was alerted was wait."

John frowns at the camera, sealing the jar with a wax melt. "That is odd. Normally, things on that power level do everything, but be calm."

Bruce didn't like this. They had lost something powerful in his city; it had evaded detection only to waltz right into custody, where it had just as easily escaped. They had also confirmed that the demon was visiting the children previously offered to him as sacrifice.

In fact, when Steph interviewed her, the teenager insisted that the demon seemed lost and frightened.

First, there was young Jack, then Molly, who had attempted to help him with a translation app. The girl didn't seem to consider otherworldly language was untransltable. She behaved as if the demon with its harsh, raspy voice and chilling presence was not there to harm her.

Which one was the truth? His experts of the supernatural or the signs that the possible demon was dropping. That it was just a lost child terrified out of his mind?

Bruce had too many questions and not nearly enough to get any kind of answers. They needed to capture the boy again.

[tampire]

"Take me as your pillar of strength"

Aziraphale and Crowley / Paragon and Chac in Good Omens and Final Fantasy X-2

[verycharismaticdragon]

Since not everyone can be Luo Binghe (the meme, the legend)...

please vote for Hua Cheng in @the-ghost-bracket!

EDIT2: next round has begun, so the link above now directs there! And Hua Cheng is also currently in a competition for the title of the best leader.

[reunitedinterlude]

countdown to phil’s 38th bday - a year in review [5/30]

phil in dapc + behind the scenes

[fhtagn-and-tentacles]

GREATER MORULA

by Dariusz Kieliszek

[blueskittlesart]

oh btw heres some more school art!! this was my character design final, a 3-phase video game boss and an environment to go along with it! my prompt words for this assignment were "demonic swamp" lol

[sillyzlaurr]

666 FOLLOWERS FOR REAL??????? IM GOING FERAL RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

IM THROWING ROSES AT ALL OF YOU, THANK YOU!!!!!!!! I DIDN'T KNOW THAT SILLY BLOG WOULD BECOME SO BIG AND IT'S ALL THANKS TO YOU🫵🫵🫵

[ghostbsuter]

It was Halloween, they were in Central City for some candy pickings (if their fathers know, it's too late, they're here and absolutely getting that stomachache in the morning once they're done here.).

Jon— Superboy had Robin in his grip, flying from apartment complex to houses, one ear out for flash, incase the hero accidentally stumbles upon them.

(He's doing some extra patrol, it was Halloween after all.)

It was spooky day and when they finally rest up on a roof, rummaged through their goods, did Robin and Superboy notice the glowing skull at the bottom.

It looked like it could be from gotham, honestly. It was creepy, dirty and Jon has it in his hands, studying and playing with curious spark in his eyes.

"Put that down superboy—! That's clearly cursed!" Robin warns, trying to take the skull, yet the other dances from reach.

"If I rub it 3 times, do you think I get 3 wishes?"

"Those are genies you're talking about, not skulls!"

Not waiting further nor listening, really, superboy rubs the skull 3 times and—

Nothing happens.

"Nothing. Will you pit the damn skull down now?"

Sighing, Superboy does so, until the skull starts glow.

And glowing it is, a bright green, frost growing along the ground and it was beginning to eat the entire apartment if they didn't do anything!

As the cool mist grows, they step and tense as a figure approaches through.

"Congrats, no idea how but you guys found Pariah Darks former skull! So much less work for me now."

[himecommunism]

my part of an art trade for oomf @/eskehimmel on bluesky

[a-person-on-the-internet]

After rewatching some of murder drones and seeing tadc's pilot for the first time, I theorize that Micael Kovach is a spirit who magically appears in recording booths of indie projects if you say his name three times Beetlejuice-style.

[doctorsiren]

Meet the people of Woodward Ranch! To most West Virginians, the place is just a normal animal sanctuary, but to those in the know, it’s a cryptid conservation ranch :)

Wyatt Woodward is the grandson of the man who used to own the ranch (I haven’t figured out that guy yet so…). His grandfather passed and left the ranch to Wyatt in his will, despite Wyatt only having met the man once or twice when he was little. Now he’s tasked with running the place, as well as grappling with the reality that monsters, cryptids, and the supernatural are very very much real

Lucy Lovejoy is a farmhand / wrangler on the ranch. She grew up living there and is miffed that Wyatt was given ownership. She believes she’s entitled to it because she actually knows the place and Wyatt didn’t even believe in the supernatural until he came to the ranch

Dr. Herschel Finch is the ranch’s science boy (that’s probably not the official title) and he does his magic + science stuff to keep the ranch safe as well as be the resident cryptid expert. He’s very chaotic neutral and would probably kill someone…yknow…for science! Nobody really quite knows his history, despite him telling lots of strange backstories about his past.

Denny is a feral little orphan werewolf girl that lives on the ranch and has deemed it her home. She causes trouble for Wyatt because he’s easy to mess with, but she’s also the one (other than the Mothman) who sees him as family the fastest

The Mothman is one of the cryptids who regularly stays at the ranch. He was Wyatt’s grandfather’s favourite, and so Wyatt quickly becomes the new favourite of the Mothman. Just look at him 🥺 he’s so,,,🫶

Bonus:

Cryptoria is Finch’s ex-wife. Nobody on the ranch has actually met her, but Finch’s reasoning for why they got divorced was that “she was evil”. They question why he didn’t take that into account when marrying a literal demon, and also why that was the dealbreaker, seeing as he’s not one to be opposed to some evil from time to time, but he doesn’t elaborate. He does explain, however, that she tried to kill him. Despite that, he also actively laments the relationship, clearly missing his hot demon wife. Cryptoria divorced HIM because she found him annoying. They’re soooo toxic for each other. They’re the kind of exes that simultaneously hate each other but would totally make out again if they had the chance.

[reunitedinterlude]

coat sharing (2017 // 2024)