#enochian chanting

[strangetriumphbluebird]

The Bird Tribe The Aviary: The Nabatean Bird Tribe has been a part of the Enochian Chanting community since the early 2000’s. The tribal members use bird language as a way of connecting with their followers. The bird language is a way to communicate with their followers in a manner that is meaningful and non-threatening to them. The Nabatean Bird Tribe also uses Enochian Chanting to connect with their followers and provide a deeper experience for those interested in learning about how animal totems can be used for healing and reconnection with nature. They also use the drumming and chanting as a means of communication, but mostly for trance, when they want to function on auto-pilot and be free from any external influence.

About – the Nabateans

[lilacpaperbird]

in the supernatural that exists in my mind, the fact that sam and dean were created as the perfect vessels of the devil and an archangel makes them not totally human. there's a residual darkness and light inside them, respectively. sam especially so, after being fed demon's blood when he was a baby. it just comes up in tiny subtle ways so no one realizes there's something wrong with them

sam's ears always ring when he prays (he thinks it's a sign god is listening). rosaries feel peculiarly warm in his hands but he holds them tight anyway. chanting exorcisms leaves him lightheaded. he brittles any plant under his care no matter how many botanical books he reads. john jokes about how his weird drawings used to scare his preschool teachers but sam has no memory of making them. being inside devil's traps feels a bit like walking through water. he has always had a talent for making people and animals trust him, follow him - entranced like moths to a flame

dean on the other hand... there's an aura around him. he shines from within. people can feel it even if they can't put their finger on why he's just so charming. he wonders why he feels almost sleepy whenever he enters a church, he dislikes being so calm and unguarded. he unknowingly interferes with certain technology and makes it malfunction, like an overvoltage. babies love him but animals seem restless in his presence. when he's taking care of a wounded or ill person they heal a little bit faster but no one notices. reading enochian out loud gives him goosebumps. he thinks holy water tastes really good to everyone else too

[psych3-delic]

“Why don’t you come in, creature of the night? Let’s us together confess our sins”

Father Michaelis led the demon down a long and narrow passage hidden behind a large tapestry hung on the wall. The childlike imp smug, thinking it had enticed another victim.

They descended the staircases, step by step, just as Dante entered the mouth of Hell - ‘Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.’; or perhaps, a perverse version of Orpheus and Eurydice with how two shadows reflected by the candle light, but only one’s footsteps could be heard. And instead of emerging from the underworld, they only spiraled down, down, and further downward. Father Michaelis didn’t turn back to look at the creature once. He felt the thing’s wicked presence well enough over his shoulder. What a same a pretty face like that strayed outside of God’s realm. But no worries, he could be repented. Sebastian would make sure of it.

Soon, they arrived at an unused crypt beneath the holy ground; the walls of which were covered in Enochian runes and Solomonic keys…

Also… Father Michaelis singing Hellfire from Hunchback of the Notre Dame

"Beata Maria, you know I am a righteous man. Of my virtue I am justly proud"

"Protect me, Maria! Don't let this siren cast his spell. Don't let his fire sear my flesh and bone"

"Be mine or you will burn"

In the end, when the villagers found out a demonic being is being kept underneath the holy church; they stomped the ground with their pitchfork and angry chants, and set the place aflame. The imp, bound by ancient spells and weakened by its broken wings, had resigned to its fate. The crypt is maze-like with its many obscure paths leading to secret entrances all over the town; but nailed as he was to the wall and the keys thrown away, there was no escape. And yet, its captor, its abuser, the once devout man of God, remains by its side. He used his own body to futilely shield Ciel from the blunt of the heat.

“Are you stupid, mortal? You can still run away. By what reason do you remain?”

“Didn’t I said I would never abandon you? Lying is against the teachings of God.”

Ciel laughed instead of pointing out the obvious hypocrisy of it all. Its captor, its abuser, and perhaps, the only man that had ever truly loved the creature in its entire sorry existence; even if it was in the man’s own horrible, twisted way.

“Very well then,” said the imp, “we shall burn together.”

It fisted slender fingers onto the priest’s black robe and pulled him down; the cross scorched one last time over where its heart should be. They share their first tender kiss as the Church collapsed over their head.

[samdeancass]

Angel Trap

Requested by Anonymous

Pairing: Sam Winchester x fem!angel!reader

Genre: Fluff

Characters: Sam, Y/N, Dean

Description: Sam and Y/N have been harboring feelings for each other for a long time. When the brothers make an angel trap, they accidentally trap Y/N inside. Dean begins to tease Sam about his feelings which is when everything starts to unravel.

Being an angel was hard enough with the constant fighting between your siblings and waging wars with each other but, somehow, being friends with the Winchesters was harder. You and Cas were the only angels that were fully on their side which meant that you spent every moment at the bunker, helping them with whatever case they had next.

That was how your feelings for Sam had started and blossomed. Helping him in whatever way he needed, sometimes without him knowing. It had never occurred to you that an angel could fall for a human but it felt like that was what was happening. What you didn’t know, however, was that Sam felt the same way. The sly looks he gave, the slight brushes against your arm when you were standing together; you should have questioned his strange, new behaviour but you chalked it up to him being a typical human.

What you both didn’t know, however, was that these feelings would come to light sooner than you were expecting.

__________

Sam and Dean were on a case that required the help of a specific angel that they had encountered a few years ago. They were inside an abandoned building, completely engulfed in darkness and perfect for an angel summoning. Dean jumped up from drawing the last of the trap, rubbing his hands together to get rid of the chalk dust. “Alright, Sammy. Hit it.”

Sam looked down at the open page in the book, his finger moving along the page as he spoke the words of the enochian chant. A bright light engulfed the room along with a piercing noise that led to both of the brothers covering their ears and closing their eyes.

Once the light has dissipated, the brothers looked over to the trap and were completely confused with the sight before them. Instead of the angel that they wanted to summon in the trap, you stood in their place with your arms folded over your chest, shaking your head.

“What on earth are you two doing?” Sam scratched the back of his head nervously. “We weren’t meant to summon you.” You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, I guessed that, dumbass.” An idea sprung into Deans head and he gave Sam a look, one that Sam had come to despise. “No, don’t even think about it Dean.”

“There’s nothing you can do to stop me.” Dean walked up to the edge of the holy fire, a smug smirk on his face. “While we’ve got you here, Y/N, I wanted to ask you something.” You raised one eyebrow curiously. “Yeah? Shoot.” Dean opened his mouth but before he could speak, Sam dragged him back to were they were stood. “Dean, no.”

You threw your hands in the air in frustration. “Seriously, guys. What on earth is going on here?!” Dean shrugged Sam’s hand from his shoulder and gave a teasing look. “Little Sammy here is getting a little embarrassed.” “Dean, I’m warning you.” Sam was practically growling at this point which peaked your curiosity. “Why would Sam Winchester be embarrassed?” 

Dean chuckled, leaning against a wooden beam before flashing a smile. “Because he has feelings for you and he didn’t want you to find out, but he knew that I would tell you. Seriously Sammy, you should know by now not to tell me anything.” 

Sam was looking all around the room, trying to evade looking at you which is why he missed the blush creeping onto your cheeks. Dean, however, did not, His mouth hung open, the edges of his mouth turning upwards. “No frickin’ way! You like him to, don’t you?” 

Sam looked at you at this point, eyes wide at the slight possibility that you felt the same way. You nodded slightly, afraid to meet the Winchesters’ gaze. Sam grabbed some holy water, doused out the flames and connected his lips to yours in one of the most passionate kisses you had ever experienced.

All the pent up feelings from the past few years were finally able to release themselves as the kiss carried on, your arms wrapping around Sam’s neck as his hands found your waist and pulled you closer to him. Your hands found their way to his hair, your fingers threading through his long locks. 

He broke the kiss and stared down at you, nothing but love in his eyes. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” You giggled and leaned your forehead against his. “I think I do.” A clearing of a throat brought you back down to Earth as you both looked over at Dean who was trying his best not to be pleased that both his brother and best friend had finally confessed their feelings for each other.

“Now if you’ve both finished eating each others faces off, I think it’s time to get back to the case, don’t you?” Sam chuckled at his brothers annoyance before pressing a kiss to the side of your head and taking your hand in his. “Wanna help us out?”

You nodded, smiling up at Sam. “Of course, you boys would be lost without me.”

Supernatural Tags:

@akshi8278​ @bxoken-heartss​ @deascheck​ @desimarie12​

[spn-lesbian]

Cas: Dean, what do you mean they don't have enochian chants at this karaoke bar? What kind of establishment is this?

[yaeggravate]

last attempt to bring this to light: the tl;dr of the khaenri'ah/kaeya/angel(seelie) connections

kaeya owns a book called adventures of angelos; in greek angelos means angel

kaeya (and venti's) favorite haunt is angel's share; the logo for angel's share is two angels drinking from a wine glass

kaeya and dainsleif like death after noon, an alcoholic drink whose main ingredient is absinthe. absinthe is created from wormwood (apsinthos), also the name of a fallen angel or star

the abyss mages chant in enochian which is the language of the angels. they chant in this language to regenerate their shields or control hilichurls. when kaeya spots the abyss mage back in the temple of the wolf, it speaks to him in enochian. kaeya claims he's "blessed with certain linguistic powers" when asked how he obtained information about the abyss twin

there is a tale of a seelie survivor (speculated to be columbina) singing in a strange unfamiliar language to the listener

arama says the seelie used to be as fast as a storm; kaeya has a stamina decreasing passive called hidden strength

when we first meet kaeya it's notably in front of the anemo god statue, which has wings, in front of the cathedral. kaeya is also seen in front of this statue in official art, his character teaser and in his hangout in the venti route

kaeya mentions he likes listening to hymns

the traveler notes the sinner is reminiscent of the upside-down defiled statue of the anemo archon, which also has wings

nabu malikata is a seelie survivor, her last name malikata can also mean angels in arabic (malayikata); seelie are heavenly envoys/angels. venti is seen playing with a seelie in an official video

seelie will seek humans for favors and lead them to treasure. even though it was a ruse, in his story quest, kaeya sought the traveler for help and guided them to treasure.

the jinn are born from waterlilies nourished by nabu malikata's blood. kaeya gifts the traveler a ~mysterious~ lamp said to have housed a powerful jinni.

the symbol for the spantamad darshan is a peacock which is based on the mythical peacock angel. this peacock existed in-game and was sacred. kaeya's constellation is a peacock. (it's possible the peacock was the divine bird simurgh -> fashioned from khvarena -> born from nabu malikata's body)

venti writes a poem to kaeya that could imply kaeya came from the dark sea. the ruins in the dark sea contain palaces of the seelie

both nabu malikata and columbina don't understand or possess human emotion. columbina is unbothered in every situation not unlike kaeya's cavalier attitude towards serious matters <- see crepus's death scene

in the official art for genshin concert 2021, venti and kaeya are shown holding a harp and a trumpet, both instruments associated with angels

[gurugirl]

Tales From the Modern Incubus | Part 20*

Summary: THE RITUAL - Harry does what he was born to do and Y/n finally sees his demonic form which is beautiful and frightening.

A/n: Remember, this is demon/incubus!Harry, so there may be some triggering topics. Please read all warnings in the TFMI Masterlist before continuing. This is all just smut really so be warned. 5k words

Warning: Smut, religious themes, talks of demonic powers, talk of blood, biting, sacreligious prayer, pain kink, breeding kink

Character List

Harry had you lie on the bed at the center. He stood at the foot of the bed and looked down at you with a grin that would have looked evil to anyone not aware of what was going on. His demon features were beginning to surface. His face was shadowed, his eyes were black, and you swore when he licked his lips his tongue looked like it had been dipped in blood. Harry’s breaths were deep and animalistic, reminding you of the rattled breaths from Satan. He appeared taller, and then when he threw his head back and lifted his arms he began to speak Enochian in a voice not his own. Or at least a voice you hadn’t heard come from him before.

It startled you at first, the way his voice was guttural and reverberated deeply around him. He didn’t sound human. But of course, Harry wasn’t human. Not fully. The tattoos on his body looked as if they were beginning to glow and you realized that blood was dripping from the edges of his mouth as he moved his lips.

Harry’s black wings appeared suddenly, taking up the space around him and nearly reaching the high ceiling. A steamy cloud in grey floated above him and began to disperse toward your space on the bed. The cloud hovered and Harry’s chanting grew darker and louder and the sound of thunder rattled the windows and shook the bed.

You kept your eyes on Harry as he grew large. The glowing tattoos glittered and his teeth looked sharp, maybe like something you’d imagine a vampire’s teeth to look like.

You tried to take a breath but you realized his chant and the ritual he had begun placed you in a trance. You were aware but you were unable to speak or breathe or blink. Your lungs felt like they needed air but then you felt your limbs begin to tingle.

Without even seeing Harry move he was suddenly above you, his face inches from yours and his once dark eyes were now red like his mouth full of blood. You weren’t scared but you were in awe. His body had grown and his wings were larger than the bed you were on. A tale behind him whipped to the side and the steamy fog that had floated over your body had now taken up the space of the ceiling completely so that all you could see was the cloudy grey fog above.

Harry was beautiful. Breathtaking. You now could see it with your own eyes that he was part of a lineage of angels and demons that were created to be perfect. But you couldn’t voice this to him. You were stuck. You were unable to move.

Harry’s voice filled your head, “You’re perfect,” he said without moving his mouth. And you were compelled to part your lips with your eyes locked on his. You held your mouth open and the blood in Harry’s mouth was poured into your own. It tasted like metal and burnt wood. Without even swallowing the liquid drew down your throat and into your tummy and Harry’s hand grasped your jaw.

You realized his nails were digging into your skin when you felt the pinch of it, but it only made you more excited. His mouth dropped to your neck and you felt his sharp teeth puncture your skin and he pulled at your flesh to drink your blood.

The feeling of it made you dizzy, woozy, hot, aroused. Your head was filled with images of snakes slithering in and out of a circle of mud and then you saw an angel in white and a demon in black on either side of the circle of wet earth. They were chanting the same thing Harry had been. The grey sky above was a cloud that began to lower and thunder shook the ground.

When Harry removed his mouth from your neck your head cleared and you saw him again, above you but it felt like a dream. He began to move down your body and his wings folded back into his spine with a crunching echo. Harry’s nails gently scraped your flesh as he lowered himself. He never removed his eyes from yours.

Unable to move or breathe or speak you watched him as he placed his big palms over your tummy and continued his incantation. You knew the words he was speaking were a summons of fertility and protection. You could feel your heart pounding and your body reacted to his touch and his words with need and desire.

Harry’s gaze remained locked on yours when he brought his hands down over your hips and then to the warmest, softest spot between your legs, his chants slowing and softening.

You felt your insides heat up and burn when he pushed his fingers into your entrance and the bed shook, the deafening sound of thunder crashing around you. Harry’s fingers were inside of you and you could feel the sting of his nails dragging through you at the same time that you felt the pressure of your orgasm. It was as if you went from being aroused to being penetrated, and in mere seconds an orgasm was about to burst from your veins. It was not like anything you’d ever experienced but your body was not in your control. Harry was the master of you at that moment. He was willing an orgasm out of you. But you allowed it. You’d given him permission and full control of your body and its response.

The lava that filled your lungs and your veins and your insides began to surge out of your body and into Harry’s hand. You couldn’t moan or shout or reach for him for grounding as you came with a burst of light and thunder shaking the world. Your eyes went dark and you saw a creature in your vision. He had three heads and he held a book. One of the heads cried in sorrow, the other laughed maniacally, and the third recited from the book he held and watched you intently.

Shaken back to your present you opened your eyes and Harry was in his normal form, the one you’d been used to, and sat in between your legs naked and watching you silently. The room was calm and noiseless. The fog was gone. The sound of thunder had disappeared and now you could breathe, pulling air into your lungs, and feel your heart pounding in your chest.

“Harry?” You spoke with a shaky breath and Harry smiled as he leaned over you and kissed you hard. You pulled your arms up and around his back and he cupped your face, holding your head close to him.

Harry broke from the kiss and delicately rubbed a thumb over your face, “You’re okay. I needed to call on the spirits to watch, to witness what I’m going to do to you. They’re here but you can’t see them anymore. Are you ready, my love?”

You nodded. You knew that this would be part of the ritual. Harry had prepared you for it beforehand. He explained you’d see things that didn’t make sense and his form would change and then that during the performance you’d be watched as he filled you with his fertile seed and made you pregnant.

Harry moved back down your body and put his face right over your labia, licking upward and closed his eyes, “Praise be to The Almighty for his creation, this heady essence,” he looked at you and kissed your pussy before licking into your crease again and continuing his prayer of thanks, “Thanks to God for this willing soul and body to home the heir of an incubus. The womb of my choice before me is a gift,” another lick of his tongue into your arousal coating his mouth, “one I will happily receive and will complete my duty to maintain the balance The Almighty has required. Praise and thanks are due to God, The Almighty for making this creation. Amen.”

You scrunched your brow as you looked at Harry. Praying to God?

Harry grinned as he saw the look on your face, “Why not? He is the creator. It’s because of him that this is possible at all. Your body,” Harry spoke in a raspy voice as he smoothed his hands up from your thighs to your hips, “your womb… these tits,” he brushed the tips of his fingers over the peeks of your nipples, “the breath in your lungs, the pout on these lips,” he lowered his mouth to kiss yours before situating himself between your legs, “this very moment, your need, your smell, your soul… it’s all here for me to defile. Praise God,” Harry laughed at his sacrilegious spiel. You laughed.

“Shall we begin?” Harry spoke as he hovered over you, positioning your body under him with his cock pressed at your opening.

You nodded and Harry kept his eyes on yours as he finally pushed his bulbous crown into your entrance, his plunge inward slicing into your walls and pushing them apart with his big demon cock. You gasped at the same time Harry did. And you knew this was it. Harry would need to put on a bit of a show for the spirits who were present. It was part of the ancient promise he made long ago and something he rather enjoyed doing. But now, being able to do it with you would be something inexplicable. He was ready to fuck his heir into you, to answer his calling.

Harry groaned deeply as he began to stuff himself into you further. His big cock was overwhelming your insides. You always knew he was big and he always felt big inside of you but you never had trouble taking him. But now, the width and his length felt even more sizable. You weren’t sure if his cock was actually larger or if that was just part of how it felt to be on the receiving end of the impregnation ritual.

You cried out when his cock slipped out then he forced it back in. Your body jolted upward and Harry repeated his heavy thrusts. Over and over again your body was rocked upward and the bed, which was sturdy and seemed like it wouldn’t be easily moved, was shaking and dipping under Harry’s intense pounding. It felt like you’d split in two.

You were wet in a way that seemed impossible, though, and it created a slippery hole for Harry’s big cock. Your body was enjoying the intrusion, the way you were being spread apart, the ache, the pinch of pain.

Harry’s muscles flexed and his body worked his prick in and out of you with astonishing strength. Your mind wandered for a moment to what a human woman would have felt when Harry was doing this. It must have been far more painful because if you were feeling the pain, certainly a human woman would feel it much worse. And you enjoyed a bit of pain.

You sucked in a sharp breath when Harry slowed his movement after grinding himself in so deep you felt it in your stomach. He watched himself disappear into you and the way your pussy gripped around him. It was beautiful. He groaned in a laugh, “Look at this. See how you take it.”

You pushed yourself up to look down at where you were connected and you gasped in surprise, your eyes widening. You looked up to Harry’s face and then back down to where his cock was moving into you. He was bigger. His cock was so large and you looked so small in comparison.

“It’s so big. Why?” You moaned your words as Harry filled you with his fleshy and thick cock over and over again.

Harry brought a hand down to your pussy and pressed his fingers to your labia where you were gripping him as he slicked himself inward, “It just happens. When it’s time for my semen to enter a womb it makes my cock swell and grow. Even more than it does normally.”

“Oohh… it’s so thick…” you cooed looking from where his dick was shiny and covered in you up to his face, “… this is what it looks like when you breed someone?”

Harry groaned and moved his hands upward to your tits, “Yes. Fuck baby… gonna fill you up and breed your cunt.”

You keened at his words and the way he felt moving into you. You imagined yourself carrying Harry’s heir. Your heir. Your belly would grow and you’d become a mom.

You’d be a mother to a baby. A mother.

You suddenly felt the tiniest bit of worry. You knew what you were getting into but at that moment, things were very real. Harry was going to get you pregnant. The ritual had begun, but that didn’t mean your mind didn’t wander.

Harry slowed down a little and repositioned so he was laying over your body, his face inches above yours. He put his hands up and cradled the back of your head and sloppily pushed in and pulled back with languid and slow strokes.

“Y/n… I can hear those doubts. But I love you. You're my mate. My only one. I will do everything I can to make this perfect for you. I’ll serve you,” he poked deep into your insides as he continued, “I’ll worship you, take care of everything you need and want. You won’t have to lift a single finger,” the noise of Harry’s heavy prick grinding into you squelched as he continued gently rocking into you, “You’re my whole world. My queen. My angel,” he looked down at you as he spoke, “Don’t worry about anything… my little lemon love,” he gasped a breath at how his cock was squeezed and coated by you.

You laughed at his use of the nickname and nodded, “I love you, Harry. This feels so good… ahhhh…” you lifted your head upward to connect your lips to Harry’s. You wanted to feel him on your mouth and in your pussy at the same time. His tongue licking into your mouth, and his cock thrusting through your walls.

Harry moaned into your sweet mouth. He was in his element. This was when his incubus nature could really shine. He would fuck you over and over and over again this night. He would come inside of you many times and impregnate you.

Normally, during the ritual, he’d fuck and come once. It was all that was required. But sometimes, he felt like he needed to really solidify his ability and soothe his urge. There were times in the past when a female was particularly enticing and her smell was too delicious to just have one time during impregnation. Harry had a primal side afterall. He’d been fucking since the middle stone ages. Things were different then and his experiences had evolved over time. Back then he didn’t take a lot of time or care to impregnate. But as he aged and learned and humanity influenced him in his quest he realized he’d been missing out on the way it could be a joy to impregnate. Especially certain women.

Some women would get the full experience, others would just get pregnant. But Harry loved showing women a good time during the ritual. He liked giving pleasure, he learned. Because the response was much better and it fed his ego. He liked being good at what he did.

And with you, well there was no question about what kind of experience he’d give you. Not only could you handle him better than any human, but he was also obsessed with you and your scent and he loved making you come. Because he felt it when you came. Having an orgasm with his bonded mate was something on a different level. He felt your orgasm in his body and you felt his. There was nothing like it. Nothing.

He'd been having sex for thousands of years but you were the first he’d experienced bonded sex with and it changed him the first time he felt it. If he thought he was obsessed with sex before, it was nothing like what he needed now. But it was you he was obsessed with.

And you did feel so deeply for him and you knew it was different. This was going to change everything but you could set aside your worry because Harry would be with you in this.

The lights in the chandelier began to flicker and the room became thick with his scent and yours. Your senses were suddenly on fire. Every single movement that Harry made was felt and you sensed his body and the pleasure coursing through his veins searing into your own. The increased speed of his thrusts had you coughing out grunts when he rammed in deeply.

“Oh! Harry! I’m… fuck!” Your stomach boiled and your slickness was drenching everything under you. Harry set his eyes on yours and the look on his face was lust and love and need.

“Feel it, my love. Feel yourself open up to allow your body to accept getting filled with my sperm. It’s coming… My cock is pushing you open,” Harry grunted his words and moaned loudly, deeply.

You felt something being stuffed behind your head and opened your eyes again, Harry had angled you upward so you could see it. So you could watch as he filled you up and very moment you’d become pregnant. He didn’t need to say that’s what he was doing. You could hear his filthy thoughts.

You watched the carnal act happening between your legs. Everything was wet. The hair at the base of Harry’s dick was drenched in you, the sound of his cock sinking into you, the way cool air hit your bum and pussy when Harry reared back for a moment before burying himself back in… and the scent. Your sense of smell had always been very good but you loved the way you smelled when you were turned on mixed with Harry’s sweat.

Harry was huffing and grunting as he rutted into you. You could feel his orgasm approaching just as yours was. You gasped at the ache it caused you, he was holding it back so he could come with you and the hint of pain in his balls could be felt inside of you.

“Ah… fuck Harry, I’m coming…” you whined as you felt your pussy pulse and grip around his thick cock and Harry wailed out loudly as he finally poured his seed into you. He didn’t stop his heavy thrusts as he spurted hot come into your body, ramming himself in as deeply as he could go, coating your insides and shivering with the feel of your orgasm and his mixed in blissfully.

You felt like your heart stopped beating as you came. Your insides opened for him and your walls swallowed all that he gave you. The thick air choked your lungs and you cried out Harry’s name over and over again as if the words were oxygen for you.

When Harry couldn’t continue stuffing himself into you any deeper he stilled his hips and his labored breathing was heard in the room. You were spent. But it wasn’t over yet.

The orgasm was the beginning of the impregnation ritual. Now Harry’s cock would stay inside of you, keeping his seed pressed deeply in, his slit would continue to leak more come as your body drank it in. He explained to you that it would come after the orgasm.

Harry lowered himself over you and took your hand in his, moving your arm upward and bending it at the elbow, and kissed your lips. His cock was still hard and you could feel him continuing to pulse and twitch inside of you as he continued to drain himself. You could feel Harry’s ecstasy the whole time. He’d already come but his body was still experiencing the euphoria of the orgasm as his body released everything into you.

His hot mouth covered yours as he licked and kissed you. He squeezed your hand and brought his other hand under your head with his lips still on you.

It was simply erotic and intimate. There could be no other way to describe the moments that followed your orgasms. You were both reeling from the deliciousness but still connected and still in the moment. Still feeling everything around and inside of you.

“You’re gonna be a mommy, Y/n…” Harry spoke against your lips in a deep voice before he continued kissing you wetly.

You moaned and scratched your fingers down the expanse of his back with your free hand. You were gonna be a mom. Harry’s sperm would fill you up and impregnate you. Soon you’d be carrying his heir. Your heir.

Suddenly the lights that had been flickering went out and the row of candles over the mantle of the fireplace was all that was left to light the room.

You felt wind surround your body and Harry’s and then a low howl sounded in the room before the lights came back on and the room was still and quiet.

Harry backed away from the kiss and looked down at you with a soft smile and lidded eyes, “Baby… how do you feel?”

He kept your hand in his and the hand behind your head that cradled your cranium was rubbing at your scalp.

You smoothed your hand upward to his shoulders and smiled, “So good. Is it… is it done?”

Harry’s bright green eyes were soft and searching your face as he nodded, “Yes. The spirits have left and now you’re carrying my heir. Our heir.”

The ritual was complete the first time Harry came inside of you that night. But he took advantage of his state all night. You two rested between orgasms but he made sure that every time he came he was pumping his come inside your pussy, “Just to be sure,” he said. Though you both knew it was done, he loved filling your cunt with his warm come.

And you really wanted to know what it was like to have him in your mouth in his current state. Harry was licking down your body and had just dipped his tongue into your belly button when you sat up and pushed your fingers into his hair and lifted his head, “Let me have you in my mouth.”

Harry quickly fell to his back, put his hands behind his head, and spread his legs for you. You climbed between his thighs and grinned at him as you kneeled down and licked his tip, “Gonna try to take you in all the way,” you whispered as you eyed his massive cock. Harry was breathing heavily through his nose as he watched you push your lips to the side of his length and sponged soft kisses upward.

But then you moved your eyes back up to look at Harry and began to drag your teeth along his hard cock. Harry’s mouth dropped open as he watched you.

You licked with your tongue and then scraped with your teeth lightly along his tender skin. Harry panted out a whine and then spread his thighs apart further as he lifted himself to see better.

“Your heart,” you mumbled your words over his shaft, “your spirit, your heir,” you licked upward and then lowered back down to his base, “your come, your cock, your body…” baring your teeth you followed the path you’d just licked with your teeth until you reached his frenulum, “all belong to me now. You’re mine.”

Harry gasped and let out a breathy high-pitched moan as you opened your mouth and wrapped your lips around his tip, lapping his salty slit and then using your teeth on the underside of his tip, pressing into his frenulum.

You lowered yourself and tasted your arousal all over him. His cock was coated in your juices, though it had dried a little because he’d been eating you out and licking your body before you’d gotten to this point.

You sucked him in and opened your mouth wide to get deeper as you suctioned as hard as you could. You weren’t too worried about your teeth getting in the way. It was going to be impossible not to have some teeth action with how wide he was. But you could tell already he didn’t care.

Harry was mumbling and panting as he watched you work. You pushed yourself down further and felt his tip reach the back of your throat but you wanted to take all of him.

You put your eyes back on his and swallowed over his tip as your teeth were pinching him just enough to have him squirm and whimper. This pleased you.

Even though he was so big at the moment (big in general but especially large for the ritual) you realized you could bring him into your throat and push down until your lips met the thatch of hair at his base. You liked it. You did have to pull up to get air more often but this was your best work.

“Fuuuckk… angel…” Harry was unable to make sense of much of his mumbled words and choked moans, but you heard his praises loud and clear as you glided your mouth and throat over him.

Before he could come you slowed your motions. You had drool dripping off from your chin and Harry’s face was pink and his deep breaths were ragged. You traced your teeth up his length and ghosted them over his tip and Harry grunted as he quickly sat up.

It happened so fast his motions as he reached for you and dragged you into his lap before plunging himself into your slick pussy. He coughed out a loud moan and came inside of you, his face twisting up in agonizing delight. He told you he only wanted to come inside of your pussy all night and he meant it. You felt him flood your walls and you put your hands around the back of his neck and moaned praises to him, “Fill me up. I love it, Harry.”

And you paused suddenly as Harry was releasing into you and something came over you to call him something you’d never called him before. Something you’d had no interest in before that moment, but now it seemed in context to what was happening, “Give me your babies, Daddy.”

Harry clenched his jaw and sputtered out a curse as he smashed his lips to yours and bucked upward into you a few more times.

“Fuck, angel… You’re gonna make me a Daddy, huh?” Harry’s rough laugh was deep and he kept kissing you as he spoke his words.

Technically, Harry was already a dad. He’d sired many babies to many women over his lifetime. But this time he was going to be a dad. He would be a father to this heir because it was with his bonded mate.

“Yes, you want that?” Your words were muffled as he continued pressing his lips to yours.

“Fuck yes. Daddy wants to give you so many babies…” Harry was breathless when he spoke but you laughed at that. You weren’t sure you wanted so many babies, but you could start with the one.

When Harry finished pumping into you he laid you back and continued where he left off before you went down on him. Kissing down from your jaw to your breasts and to your belly button, and then put his lips on your pussy and drew into his mouth his come that dripped from you.

He pushed himself up to hover over you and you opened your mouth wide as he spat his come onto your tongue. He watched you swallow it and smiled down at you, “I love you.”

Harry called for room service. Yes, of course, Satan’s manor had staff. It was a little like a hotel. But the only people allowed to stay were those he specifically invited.

And once again, the food was delightful. Harry wanted to make sure you were fed and full of more than just himself.

You two lazed on the bed eating and drinking wearing nothing but sweat and smiles.

Harry’s wicked smirk got your attention, though, as you licked cream from your fingers and you squinted at him, already knowing his thoughts.

“You’re a pervert, Mr. Styles.”

Harry licked his lips and sat up, his heavy cock still hard and hanging between his legs.

“I can’t argue with that assessment,” he said when he began to crawl over you. He lowered his face and sniffed upward from your hips to your breasts and up to your neck before licking and biting your skin.

You laughed when his force pushed you down and the plate you’d just been eating from fell from your lap and spilled the cake onto the bed next to your hip.

Harry pushed your legs apart and glass crashed to the floor when your knee hit the tray and dipped into the bowl of fruit, the sweet frosting from the cake smearing onto the skin of your upper thigh.

But you didn’t care about any of that. You were with the man of your dreams. The one who’d show you everything there was to know. The one you’d be with for all time. The one you shared your heart with. The one who loved you unconditionally and without question. He filled your heart and your soul and your body so completely that you’d never feel alone or afraid again.

And it was just the beginning of everything.

Feedback/Thoughts | Support Me! | Main Masterlist

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕

Tags: @michellekstyles @golden-hoax @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @yousunshineyoutempter @the-gardener-31 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @harrys-foxy @dirtytissuebox @closureesny @lhharrylilpumpkin @evelynlarue @chaptersleftunwritten @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysmimi @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lllukulele @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @theroosterswife24 @0oolookitsme @babybunharry @sagcas-latte @anothermannharry @scorpiongirl1 @harrysbigspoon @matildasatellite @sadeslovechild @daphnesutton @duh-dobrik @luvonstyles @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mellie-harry @harrysswhore @dwdenthusiast

*if you tag is orange it doesn't work

[collarbjt]

SPN 1021

What‘s happened to Amelia ???????? Is that Genie??????

Both trouble teens 🤣 Cas you attack them with the fact

Claire pretends to be mean, but she‘s still a kid, naive and innocent, all obvious

Dean’s joking is so.scared!🙄

Dean’s thoughts about kids make me sad. Better and stronger to be alond…?whatthe….. Joohnnnnn

Sam is very good at taking care of teens. Well, she taught her some illegal tricks, but well that’s

Awwww Claire and Castiel have same vibe🥹

Haha Claire and Dean combi, Sam and Cas adults leaven those two kiddos.

Sam’s thought is different with Dean…. Sam thought Claire must be with Cas. Bc Dean take care of young Sammy…….🥹🥹🥹 I’m crying

Oh Dean is so annoying adult lol wait nononahh he’s a pro hunter

Gregories! New hierarchy of angel

Aha Dean, such a badass adult. Well Claire may love that birthday present…maybe.

Hey angels, seriously, you guys need to complain to the god first.

Oh Claire, so lovely adorable kid…Amelia’s so lucky to have her

Wtf Amelia!!!!!! Nooooo!!!!! Just sing the Gregorian chant as you name, and don’t be a troublemaker

Ohhhh Heaven….. Jimmy and Amelia met again….. but guys your kid is still in the human world ohno…

What Claire goes to Jody?????? Such a wonderful choice!!!

Dean ya understand kids’ heart! Yeah every wannabe-hunter kids need an angel’s sword and enochian dictionary.

Girl, carry on wayward with a good old music. Go girl, wish you a luck. Be a great adult.

[itzymaeee]

𝓜𝓸𝓸𝓷 𝓡𝓲𝓿𝓮𝓻

Summary: after what happend yesterday you have decided to summon your contracted with.

Song's: Audrey Hepburn - Moon River

Qsie - Moonsetter

Pairing: Platonic avatar x umbran witch!human!reader

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

Tw: corny writing,short fic and spoiler

Authors note: sorry for not updating hope you enjoy the story 😭 don't be afraid to comment down!

Bold and italic - "speaking in enochian"

After the fiascos you have witnessed yesterday you already knew neteyam won't visit you and knowing his going to keep an eye on his brother, taking that advantage as you decided to channel your magic.

there stood in front of you is the infernal demon you have contracted with madama eris known for her bloodthirsty in war and bringer of chaos and discord. "I'm surprised the people of this land haven't found and killed you yet? Knowing their dislike of your your race?" She amusedly said you just rolled at her comment "you and your bloodthirst you didn't even greet me" as madama eris just cackled dreadfully with glee as she started to circle you while you're calmly.

Taking your knife out you sliced your hand as the blood drips on the floor of the cave and your clan symbol appeared on the floor as you turned around put your hands in the back of your head posed and chanted "PDI BARMA!". The pentagram glowed and a shadowly figure of a woman appeared.

"I'm surprised you haven't said anything to Jake Sully son what you are" as she stopped in front while you put both of your hands in your waist "I have no reason to tell him about me after all he didn't told me about himself except him complaining about his father, brother and the chief son constantly bullying" you replied despite of your stay here in Pandora neither you and neteyam haven't asked each other about yourselves too busy of learning "but may I ask how do you know neteyam father?" You asked noticing she said neteyam father name.

Looking at madama eris who seemed to be observing she turned her head towards at you "you might have forgotten little witch I'am the goddess of discord and I know every whispers surrounding me especially if it's about war" she said "In hell you might forgot infernal's are known to be nosy bunch, Jake Sully name is very well known in hell after all a man named quaritch is constantly yelling and cursing that name while getting tortured by madama butterfly" she seemed to be amused about the man who was being tortured but stopped as she looked you dead at the eye.

"A little reminder little witch before I go back I have to tell you are faraway from our world" looking madama eris confused "well yeah according to neteyam I'm a thousand miles away from earth?" You told her but all you got was a laugh.

But she still continued laughing annoyed at her before you can tell her off but stopped as your attention was on the familiar sound of footsteps coming toward's the cave entrance but you returned your attention back when you heard madama eris "looks like lover boy is already here have fun little witch" as she vanished in the shadow while laughing mockingly at you.

Neteyam arrived at your cave and saw you standing and looking at the ground annoyed as he looked at you confused "y/n are you alright?" He only got was an angry huffed as you started walked at the woven mat and seated down while grumbling a language he doesn't know as he followed you and seated down a little bit faraway from afraid he might upset you more.

Taking the two unfinish bracelet you have been waving with neteyam at your hands as you offered the other one to neteyam to continue what you guys left. While waving you noticed that neteyam mind is a little bit off today since he continuesly tighten the knot and removing again.

"neteyam" you called at him but he didn't looked up as he continued what he was doing.

"neteyam" you called at him secondly as you notice that his hands was shaking while tying and knoting the seaweed. Annoyed that he was ignoring your call you scotted closer at him.

"neteyam!" As you yelled to get his attention he snapped the seaweed he was waving at the bracelet and looked at you alarmed while you just looked at him worriedly.

"I have been calling you are you okay? your mind seemed not to be good today?" You asked "I'm okay let's just continue what we were doing" noticing that he was changing the topic.

"neteyam I know something is off your ears is droopy so what happend? Did something happen to your brother?" you asked him but he just stubbornly Shaked his head no as he tied the seaweed he snap so you decided to wait.

It was silent between you two as the only thing you can hear was the oceans wave at the background as you looked at neteyam worriedly. So you decided to let him tell you at his own why he seemed to be in distress it was an hour of you two waving and you constantly looking at him he seem to be notice that as he stopped waving.

"the chief daughter and son decided to show us their own sacred tree of souls that was located underwater me and sister's was in awe as the cheif daughter happily joined them to connect with the ancestor's" he stopped as he seemed to be taking a full breath as you softly hold his hand as you squeezing his hand in support "everything was fine but my sister Kiri something happend she got a seizure while she was connected at the tree during that moment I felt dread watching my sister going through that" as you gasped at what you heard worried at Kiri as you quietly watched as neteyam shed a tear your heart aches at him.

"oh neteyam" you softly said as you gather him in embraced as he sobbed at your shoulder as you rocked both of your bodies in attempt to sooth him. You continued to do that as you softly singed a song that your mother sing at you everytime your sad.

Moon river, wider than a mile

I'm crossing you in style some day

Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker

Wherever you're goin', I'm goin' your way

As you softly singed at him as his cries gone only his softly hiccups.

Two drifters, off to see the world

There's such a lot of world to see

We're after the same rainbow's end

Waitin' 'round the bend

As you let go of your hug and cupping his face and softly removing the tears at eyes as you looked at him softly.

My huckleberry friend

Moon river and me

As you ended the song and smiled at him as he looked at you softly while holding your hand "I never knew you can sing" he said as you jokingly scoffed at him "what you thought I have an ugly voice?" And he has a audicity to nod as you gasped "is this the thanks I get after comforting you? next time you will never gonna hear my voice" as you joked let go of your hand and huffed at him but he just laughed at your antics.

"okay okay I was just joking you have a beautiful voice" he said and you smiled as you smirked at him "of course I have after all I have graced you with it"

"wow you really are arrogant you know what I take back what I said"

"hey no take back" as you pointed at him but but stopped as you both laughed. After you both finished laughing you and neteyam decided to seat outside the cave and enjoy the watching the sky slowly turn into nighttime.

"thanks for comforting me and sorry for you to see me at that state" neteyam said beside you as he continue watches the sky. "Nah it's fine and I don't mind you know if ever you felt sad just come at me even though your annoying but I don't mind" you said as you heard him gasp and Snicker at it. "What do you mean annoying?!?" But you ignored him as you continue to enjoy the view of the sky huffing at you.

As both of you seat quietly at the rocky shore while enjoying the view and the sound of the wave after an hour neteyam decided he needs to return back before his father and mother noticed his missing as both you and neteyam goodbye to each other you watch him call his ilu and mounted on it.

Before he can leave you called him his name "neteyam I mean it what I said" you said at him as he looked at you "you mean me being annoying?" You rolled your eyes at him "I mean about if ever if you need someone to tell or to let out just come at me okay and also yes that too" as you said amusedly but serious about it. He smiled and nodded as you watch him go back at the island wishing him and his family that his sister will be well, while continue watching the sky noticing it's almost nightine seeing some stars.

Taglist:

@anxiety-queer

@phantomalex14

@blackgaladriel

@spqce-bun

@bitch-i-lovee-you

@mandokarla-mavrok

@yu-rylee

[pssy-wagn]

@destielmonth

Day 2: Bonding

Dean Winchester stared at the bizarre sight before him. He and Castiel were inexplicably glued together by an unknown force to a seemingly ordinary antique lamp they had found during a hunt. "Cas," Dean said, his voice laced with disbelief, "how the hell did this happen?"

Castiel, his brow furrowed in confusion, replied, "I am uncertain, Dean. It appears we have encountered a peculiar enchantment."

"Enchantment? More like a pain in the ass," Dean grumbled, trying to pry his hand away from the lamp to no avail.

As the initial shock wore off, the two men began to assess their situation. They were stuck holding hands, unable to move more than a few inches away from each other. Dean sighed, realizing the gravity of their predicament. "We're gonna have to figure out how to break this spell, Cas. Any ideas?"

Castiel pondered for a moment before suggesting, "Perhaps if we find the source of the enchantment, we can reverse it."

With limited mobility, they started scouring the room, their movements awkward and synchronized. Dean couldn't help but chuckle despite the seriousness of their situation. "You know what, Cas, we've been through a lot of weird stuff, but this...this takes the cake."

Cas glanced at Dean, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I suppose it does, Dean. Our lives are never dull."

Their search leads them to an old dusty book tucked away in a corner. With some difficulty, they managed to flip through its pages together. After what felt like hours, they found a passage describing a bonding spell that connected two individuals to an object. The only way to break the spell was to perform a ritual involving rare ingredients and a chant in Enochian.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Great, so we're basically stuck like this until we find those ingredients. Any idea where we can find them?"

Cas nodded, his eyes scanning the text. "Yes,we will have to search in the “weird box” as you brothers call it. Everything we need is mostly in the jars so we have to be extra careful maneuvering around."

Sighing, Cas continues looking at Dean with dread, “We also need more than what we have in stock. Dean? We are going to travel.”

Despite the challenging circumstances, Dean found himself appreciating the unique camaraderie that came with being glued to an angel. They embarked on their quest, navigating the world with a newfound sense of cooperation and understanding.

After a series of humorous and embarrassing situations, they finally gathered the ingredients and returned to the bunker. With the ritual prepared, they recited the incantations together, their voices blending in harmony. As the final words left their lips, the glue binding them to the lamp began to slowly dissolve.

They stumbled apart, finally free from the bizarre bond. Dean grinned at Castiel, a mixture of relief and amusement in his eyes. "Well, Cas, that was one hell of an adventure. Let's hope we don't find any more enchanted objects anytime soon."

Cas smiled back, his blue eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. "Agreed, Dean. But I must admit, it was an experience I won't forget."

And with that, they shared a knowing look, appreciating the bond that went beyond the physical, one that could withstand even the strangest of circumstances, “me neither.”

Fingers itching to be close to each other, Dean looks down as he extends his hand out. Cas chuckles as he takes it. Dean shrugs, “Just because we’re not glued, doesn’t-doesn’t mean we can’t hold hands. Just sayin’..”

[newnoirstories]

Dark, Surreal Noir Comedy

[Once again, the inclusion of a religious or mystical practice in any of my stories does not constitute an endorsement of it.]

"Arjuna's Bow"

Chapter I

Detective Sammy Drayson, NYPD, dealt mainly with crime in the East Village. Art, drugs and the occasional homicide, Drayson thought. Drayson specialized in the homicides.

1986 was the year, the hipsters of the new kind were rising, the kind Broadway would immortalize, the kind that would be cliché in two or three decades, but at the time, they were the new hippies, and being one meant something, whether you liked them or not.

But then, there was the other side of it: The addiction, the AIDS epidemic, both so common among the artists, and wherever there were narcotics, some would fight to the death over them, others to the death over who sold them, and then there were those who killed for reasons no one understood.

But while Drayson, who believed in nothing he could not see, pored over the tedious red tape at his desk, in an apartment in East Village, Apartment 61 on 13th Street, a woman known to her neighbors only as "Adam L", no context or explanation, was trying to invoke powers at which the cynical Sammy would have laughed, but soon he would believe.

Taking an ebony wand, hardly a traditional wand of the old Druids, given where ebony trees grow, Adam L touched it to the portrait of a man, then to a treasure chest of sorts, and back and forth, chanting in the old Enochian language of Dee and Kelley, until finally, with a yell, she exclaimed, very much in English, "Puppet!"

Chapter II

On a rainy day about a week later, the first of several unsolved homicides occurred. No robbery, no apparent motive: A 52-year-old man out walking his dog was the victim, taken by surprise with a knife. Though his faithful canine friend obviously put up a fight, and likely left some mark on the assailant, the dog, mixed in breed, was too small to prevent the crime.

Drayson heard of the case, but it seemed like the random act of a junkie, and no leads could be found… until four days later, when similar injuries were found on the remains of woman, 27, on the same street, then, just over a week later, an elderly couple, octogenarians at that, all the same: Probably the same weapon, the same lack of motive, and within a radius of less than a quarter of a mile.

Even as Sammy was on the scene of the poor elderly man and woman, in came a call that a young man of 19 died in identical circumstances in a parking lot, perhaps two hundred yards from where Drayson stood, but by now, the killer had gotten away, and Drayson was hearing no end of it from the Captain, though Captain Marsh was concerned more with bad press than with lives.

This time, though, there was a witness, but not one that a district attorney would covet. An old Cornish man, Tom Carew, a painter of some local repute, claimed to get a fleeting glimpse of the killer, but having a limp, he said, it was no use giving chase. In his Cornish dialect, he insisted that the killer was a woman wearing the mask of a man, but also rambled something that Drayson took to be about a man carrying a boom box playing music.

Nine times out of ten, Drayson would have put one word in his notes, that being "gibberish", over such a story, but his job had been threatened, and he was desperate enough to take dilligent notes, in so far as he could understand Cornish:

"Flick o' the wan' o' the cunning wom'n, 'tis what took the souls. Street 13 an' oak, proper fit for her, pale and wan wi' a wan', she is. Looks a maid, 'tis old in deed. Cunning maid pilfered the ol' swag chest 'o Blood Barq."

Such was Carew's explanation of who he thought responsible for the crime he had witnessed.

Chapter III

"I am so desperate," remarked Drayson at headquarters, "That I'm going to Sleepy Brown."

David "Sleepy" Brown was a Lieutenant in the force, 62 years of age, whose greatest asset to the force was as a historian and linguist. He had solved many an antiques caper and fraud, spoke and wrote perfect Greek, Latin, Spanish and Hebrew, as well as English and every Celtic language, and though not from Cornwall, but from Devon, originally, before his parents moved him, as a child, to New York, it was for this last bit of expertise that Drayson needed him.

With typical lack of protocol, finding an unlocked door, Drayson simply let himself in to Brown's office, where the old man seemed to be nodding off, fitting his nickname. Drayson sneered.

"Lovely sneer, Detective. By the way, the sole of your right shoe needs mending," remarked the Lieutenant, revealing that, as was so often the case, his drowsy appearance was an act, "You are here about the Cornish witness, I presume?"

Analyzing Drayson's jumbled notes, Brown opined, "Look for an Apartment 61 on 13th Street, and if you find a woman fond of Druid wands and treasure chests, you will find someone relevant to your investigation."

"How on earth do you know what apartment to look for?"

"This… shall we say, eccentric old fellow was speaking in a sort of mystical code. 61 is the gematria- that's a kind of esoteric code- for 'oak'."

"What about Blood Bark?"

"Blood Barq, with a 'q', Detective, though there are several theories as to the etymology. It's a legend of a British pirate with a lost treasure. No one knows his real name, or even whether he existed with certainty, so they call him Blood Barq."

"You are seriously proposing that a dead pirate has something to do with this case?"

"No, I am proposing that a delusional person might believe he did, however."

With that, Brown closed his eyes and returned to what was either slumber or meant to give that impression.

Chapter IV

Detective Drayson found an Apartment 61 on 13th Street, not far from where the murders occurred, but while a woman's voice answered, all she would say is that, if he had no search warrant, he was not welcome, and that she would answer no questions. It was Adam L's apartment, and Drayson scrambled off to try to find her birth name, but before this, another unexpected witness, as it seemed, came forward.

A man was at the station claiming to be the man with the boom box seen by Carew, saying that his conscience was bothering him. His name was George Clay.

"Okay, officers, I'm taking the chance. You know I got a record and I don't want no trouble, but I swear to you, I didn't know anything about a murder."

"What did you know?" asked Drayson, in his sternest voice.

"Look, all I know is this man, sunglasses and a beard, maybe a fake beard, I don't know. Sunglasses and it was rainin'. Anyhow, he shows me this freaky person, not sure if it was a guy or a girl, but anyway, he says he'll pay me $500 just to follow him, or her, or whatever around and play my boom box for a few blocks, as long as I play the song he wants."

"What song?"

"'Tragedy', a Bee Gees song. Now I'm more a funk man, and that ain't…"

"Get to the point!"

"Anyhow, this crazy person freaks hearin' the song, pulls a knife and attacks the nearest person, as far as I could see, some skinny white kid."

"And you did nothing?"

"Look, man, I got a record. I panicked, okay? But I'm here now, right, and I didn't have to tell you anything, or even let you know I was there!"

Chapter V

Kenny "Dum Dum" Wallace Jr. was the bassist for a struggling glam metal act calling itself "Long Live the Buzz Flies". On his way to a poorly-built recording studio aptly named "The Leaky Roof", he was approached by a man with a beard and sunglasses, again on an overcast day, offered $500 for the simple act of carrying a boom box playing "Tragedy" by the Bee Gees and following someone, someone with the face of a man, but a feminine walk.

Wallace shrugged, and did as instructed, but as in Clay's story, the strange person flew into a frenzy, pulled a knife, and for a moment, Dum Dum thought he was the intended target, but instead, the victim was a 39-year-old accountant, Anderson Tall. This time, though, there was a witness to the entire sequence of events, and not only the killing, Marjorie "Meddler" Davison, a 67-year-old woman feared as much as any man on the streets, in her own way, as a notorious gossip rumored to leverage information for blackmail, someone who knew everything about everybody, it seemed.

She considered blackmailing the band, until attending one of their concerts and seeing the small crowd. Instead, Davison went to the police, but tried to insist on being paid for her information.

"In the first place, Meddler," said Drayson sharply, "If we paid you, it would set a precedent where every lowlife like you could shake us down. Second, it would destroy the credibility of what you saw, to the DA. How about you tell us what happened and we won't go after you for about, maybe, six or seven blackmail operations you have going on at this moment?"

With that, Davison described what she had seen, and the pattern was undeniable, if grotesque. Drayson was planning on looking into whether anyone known to be unstable, like an escaped hospital patient, might be involved, when Lieutenant Brown casually strolled into the room with a dossier on just such a person, Courtney Randall Cline, noted as "paranoid schizophrenic", "homicidal ideations", yet for some reason given permission, just two days before the killings began, "to visit family".

Chapter VI

Uniformed police and street gossip had it that Courtney Cline was living out of a van, an old hippie one, but painted over a silvery gray. Police approached her, and she was wearing a mask in the detailed likeness of a man, though which man was unclear.

"I don't care if you're cops. You play that disco song, you die."

The officers, with great difficulty, cuffed her as a dangerous suspect, but she calmed down when promised that no disco music would be played, and after that, blandly and indifferently recounted committing all six murders, explaining that strange men kept following her with "that horrid song", and "made me do it". When asked about the mask, which she removed only with reluctance, she said that she found it in her room at the mental hospital, and it was a likeness of William "Wolf" Woolley, soon verified as an actual patient in the same wing of the same hospital, and a known murderer himself, albeit found insane. Woolley, however, had been in the hospital during all six killings, and so could not have been directly involved.

Courtney R. Cline was arrested on six counts of second-degree murder, though it was suspected that she would, like Wolf, be acquitted by an insanity defense.

"You think you have solved the case, eh, Drayson?" said Brown, ambling out of nowhere with his customary quiet ease.

"Of course, and you don't?"

"We know who physically carried out the crimes, but why this same song, and this mysterious man I hear of, the false beard and the $500 offers to random men?"

"I admit that is odd, but how can I ever prove any of that?"

The Lieutenant shook his head and smiled, "If you would only use a bit of imagination, Detective. None of Cline's notes say anything about a fixation regarding music, as one might reasonably expect if said music drove her into homidical fits."

"And what does that suggest, Sherlock Holmes?" asked Drayson insolently.

"Sherlock is suggesting that someone at the hospital conditioned Miss Cline as a sort of post-hypnotic suggestion. Follow that lead to the ends of the earth, Detective. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go back to earning the nickname 'Sleepy'."

Chapter VII

Again reluctantly following Sleepy's advice, Drayson found, rather to his surprise, that Wolf Woolley's notes did indeed include the warning, "Violent reaction to disco". There could also be no question that Cline's mask was a perfect likeness of Woolley.

Dr. Karl Steele gave the NYPD full access to both records and to the premises. One thing struck Drayson, however: All of the staff agreed that, at least in Cline's absence, there could be no question that Woolley was their most dangerous patient, yet Wolf was not in the "isolation room", a sort of equivalent of solitary confinement.

"That's Dr. Steele's idea," explained a nurse, "He said that Mr. Woolley is incurable, nothing changes him, but that the isolation room might change the behavior of some of the other patients."

Detective Drayson was permitted to look into the isolation room, and could scarcely believe the surreal horror within: A man in a straitjacket wore also a mask of William Woolley's likeness, as faintly, the song "Tragedy" could be heard playing, interspersed with the voice of Wolf ranting his hatred of the disco genre, and back and forth, causing the patient to writhe in torment.

The nurses and orderlies seemed to think nothing of this, calling it "an experimental therapy" and "Dr. Steele's idea". An even greater shock: Detective Drayson was suddenly face to face with the gaunt yet imposing figure of Dr. Karl Steele, his deeply recessed eyes glistening cold malevolence, a tight-lipped smile seeming to speak death.

Chapter VIII

Even Drayson's hardened nerves got a terrible start, but suddenly, Steele's demeanor seemed to relax, and he laughed, albeit with a cynical ring.

"Detective, Detective, we mustn't have anxiety. I let you see that. I knew that you would deduce it sooner or later- either you or that old Lieutenant."

"You're the killer!" exclaimed Drayson.

"The killer? I never touched a soul, never gave any instructions to anyone so much as to jaywalk, Detective."

"Conditioning… you hypnotized them!"

"Welcome to the future. The quaint moral laws of Abrahamic times are dying slowly, Detective. There are chessmasters and there are pawns. I have demonstrated that I am a chessmaster. Mr. Woolley… well, he has the will to power, but not the clarity. I have both. You have the potential for both too, Detective. I read in your eyes a deep distrust for the lies of the old ways, and a potential for the new."

"Maybe so," replied Drayson, recovering his nerve, "But what you fail to read is that I would rather die than break my oath to uphold the law. You won't touch me, will you, Doctor? You want others to do the dirty work."

"That is what you call it," shrugged Steele, "But return as you like, you have nothing on me."

The next day, Detective Samuel Drayson, instructing his uniformed help to wait outside the building, returned to the hospital, barging directly into Steele's private office.

"I've been expecting you, but to what avail?" smugly cooed the Doctor.

"That's right. You never said a word. Never told them to do a thing."

"Exactly…"

"Neither did I…" Drayson retorted, his eyes set cold as the Doctor's. Into the room, unrestrained and feral, lurched William Woolley himself, a sight that shook even Dr. Steele.

With a theatrical air, Drayson took out a tape recorder, then stepped back, so that Wolf was closest to the Doctor.

"Tragedy, when the feeling's gone, and you can't go on, it's tragedy…"

In the frenzy of a rabid beast, Wolf attacked, fists and teeth, as Dr. Steele screamed, the last sounds he would ever make, as Drayson locked the door behind the two, escaping as hospital staff desperately rushed to respond.

Chapter IX

"Wolf will be trying to escape, likely out the front way, and if not, I have men at the back," said Drayson.

Indeed, Wolf, covered in evidence of his savage attack on the late Dr. Steele, helped himself to the front exit, only to be captured by nine policemen, one of them Drayson, though not before biting one of them.

Wolf looked up at one of the cops, who in spite of the struggle, still had a cigarette in his mouth. For the first time, Woolley spoke, laughing and saying to the smoker, "You're crazy too."

Meanwhile, somewhere in the United States of America, the quality control inspector of the very cigarette this policeman smoked lived a life in turmoil, his wife having an affair as he tried to drown his sorrow. As the factory man threw a bottle of whiskey at a photograph of his wedding, Jeremy Thomas met with the flashes of cameras. Thomas was founder, chairman and CEO of Jeremy Thomas Holdings, which held a controlling share in the liquor company profiting from the broken man's sorrow, but he was announcing giving a portion of his billions to United Governments, a philanthropic organization dedicated to world peace.

The flash of the cameras gave way to the flash of lightning, however, as the money Thomas "donated" was being illicitly invested in the Medellín Cartel of Colombia, as haggard Colombian workers picked coca leaves in a storm of rain and thunder, the lightning giving way to neon lights in the middle of the night, somewhere in an American city, a man slumped over, a man broken by cocaine.

Jeremy Thomas, as it turned out, had not always been wealthy, though he had always been unscrupulous. Prior to his wealth, he was briefly married to Lillian Morgan, now calling herself "Adam L", bitter over never having touched Jeremy's later fortune. If the Fates were not capricious enough, the very secretary named as co-respondent by Morgan in her divorce from Thomas had, in turn, just married none other than Lieutenant David Brown, twenty-four years her senior, as if an aging Sherlock Holmes wed a surviving Jayne Mansfield, though Mansfield, of course, was more clever than the public knew.

Brown's loud sounds on the wedding night, in somewhat of a British accent, annoyed the neighbors. Meanwhile, Detective Sammy Drayson, ever the contrarian, was a basketball fan, but not a fan of the New York Knicks, but of the Boston Celtics, and on a rare vacation, was in Boston, watching the most successful playoff run of the 1985-86 Boston Celtics, for once forgetting the wretched world around him.

The end.

[wiredaughter]

⋆⋆⋆

@tropetember 16: reunion

convergence

adam milligan/michael ☆ supernatural ☆ fix it

Of all the things he thought his life would be now, easy wasn't top of the list. And yet easy it is. He can barely remember what it felt like having something after him, having the background noise of the world ending while he tried to figure out a future for them. Them. Maybe easy was the wrong word, after all he can't remember a time life's been more difficult.

Simple, then. A simple, angel-less life. He does what he can to fix the latter, ending the newly found simplicity of the life he's been thrust back into. He investigates, he prays, he hunts for the first time. A crossroads demon who wasn't even up to speed in the rapture event. He can't fathom why he out of all people remembers it, but figures he can ask Michael once he finds him. He looks for the Winchesters, of course, is that close to asking for their help, intel, anything. Then he rationalises maybe asking for their help to locate an archangel they only ever saw as an unwilling ally wouldn't go down well.

He follows ley lines, tries summoning spells, blood rituals; nothing brings him closer to Michael. It makes him sharper, though. Faster, more intuitive. Where he used to struggle to read enochian, he can cast simple incantations on the fly now. And he must, asking the questions he's asking, turning the stones he's turning. When he understands the reason Michael's not answering must be his death, it doesn't even give him pause. He's got so far the only answer is to bring him back.

That's not a ritual he can invent himself. He gets to stranger witches, more obscure books and a retired reaper before he can put it all together. He's precise, almost mechanical in his mania as he starts the fire, and yet his clipped movements betray his passion. Hearing himself chant the enochian is almost too much, too similar to Michael. But Michael's voice didn't shake like this. He adds his own blood to the pyre, finishes the invocation.

He gives a quick look around, expectant, then he sees the light. Like a beam of moonlight, softer than he expected. It pulses stronger as he approaches, and by the time it's within his arm's reach it's just as strong as last time; blinding, pure, allencompassing. He doesn't fall to his knees this time, it's this absoluteness he loves, he reaches out to invite the divine in again.

Like a kamikaze to his target or moths to a flame, there's the pull of vertigo at the back of his stomach, his blood catching fire beneath his eyes. He's aware of every molecule of oxygen in his breath as it fights its way through his windpipe. He's endless, twisting into himself and away, and when it starts to feel too much like death again it's His voice that puts it all together, resonating through his brain out of his own mouth, making the world have a meaning for the first time in way too long.

'Adam.'

[hasufin]

Internal

Many, many moons ago I worked at a very shitty helpdesk job at a hospital system.

An awful lot of this was supporting patient charting systems. Since patient charting systems contain patient information and I was not clinical staff, I could not access these systems.

Yes, this was inherently stupid.

I spent a LOT of time asking people to read off things on the screen, and having them tell me "It says a lot of tech stuff"; I would then have to convince them that the tech stuff was actually important and that no, they could not stop in the middle of reading it because it was hard to understand, I needed to know what it actually said. Yes, all the words. Also all the letters and numbers. Yes, i had a lot of conversations which went:

"Okay, I need to know the serial number of this printer so I can put in a ticket."

"oooookkaaayy.... um... uh... I don't see it."

"It's a big label on the front of the printer."

"Oh! There it is! Right on the front! It says S..... slash.... N.... then two dots [a colon]... and then a whole bunch of letters and numbers."

"Yes. I need to know what those letters and numbers are."

"Let me find it again. Where did you say it was?"

Anyway.

One of the most frequent things I would get calls about was the "Productivity Tool".

Now, the thing about the Productivity Tool is, it didn't exist. At least, not in any way which was relevant to me.

You're probably imagining some kind of time tracking or scheduling software. And yes, I think that's what it was used for. But "productivity tool" is the absolute most anodyne name for a piece of business software. You can't even look it up.

What it actually was, was an Excel spreadsheet someone had made years ago (at the time; I'm honestly pretty sure they're still using it, so we're talking decades now) with thousands of rows and columns and all kinds of custom formulae. It was on a share drive and the nurses at this one hospital used it to keep track of who would be doing what. It was apparently Very Important for their jobs.

And this ran into two problems.

First, it was Not My Problem. You wanna roll your own, fine, but you're responsible for what you roll. I was neither required nor able to support this spreadsheet. My limits were "Is your computer working?" "Can you connect to the network?" "Do you have access to the network shares to which you're supposed to have access?" "Can you open Excel?". If the Productivity Tool started chanting in Enochian and summoning Knar'lyzoth, Demon of Bedpans and Phlebotomy, well, that's a you thing.

But, point the second, the users who would call me had no idea about any of this. They would be given the vague direction "look it up on the Productivity Tool" and no direction on things like "How do you access this tool?" "How do you use this tool?" or "What is this thing even?". So of course they'd call the Helpdesk, who wasn't trained on, or even told about, this tool because it's not one of ours.

And if there's anything I really took from this, it's that you really need to stop giving weaksauce meaningless names to things, and you ALWAYS need to be asking "What does this look like to someone who is coming in cold?". So much frustration could have been avoided if only someone had actually just told the new nurses "Oh yeah, this is the Hospital's Scheduling Spreadsheet. We use it to keep track of who is taking care of most of our tasks. It's on this share, you ask Claire for access to it, and if you have any trouble Jenny is the person who fixes it." Just a couple of sentences, but soooo much better than throwing new hires to the wolves.

[yaeggravate]

umm no offense but kaeya's favorite haunt is angel's share, he keeps with him a book the adventures of angelos, his constellation is a peacock, peacocks have countless eyes on their tail feathers, his gift is a lamp that housed a jinni who are born from nabu malikata- malikata meaning angels- who is a seelie-who were angels, and kaeya likes listening to hymns but like dainsleif he doesn't go inside the cathedral, and the abyss mages chant in enochian which is the language of the angels, and the abyss order are khaenri'ahns transformed into abyssal creatures, and in the first archon quest when kaeya spots the abyss mage, it speaks to him in enochian and his vision is missing wings, and the defiled statue of the anemo archon has wings the statue was hanging upside down like the sinner because the sinner because the sinner is actually kaeya's vision is missing wings because the sinner is

[monochromatictoad]

Gabriel knowing Gregorian Chants makes me so happy. However, his time frame would've been too early for the Guidonian Hand, which makes me a little sad.

Also, I said it once, I'll say it again: Gabriel would not have been able to communicate with Victor or the Acolytes. This man isolated himself for five hundred years, 1047-1557, which would have altered how well he could communicate with humans outside the Castle because of languages evolving outside the Castle. He probably was able to pick up on most of these changes over time though.

However, during his death-sleep, 1557-2057, he would not have been subjected to the modern languages, making it harder for him to communicate with Victor and the Acolytes. Satan, Trevorcard, Marie, Carmilla, and Zobek were from the same era as Gabriel, so they could communicate with him the best, with Trevorcard having telepathic communications with his father as well.

The Castle would be able to communicate easily as well, since it would have been Gabriel's sold companion for five hundred years.

But, he is fluent in Latin, so maybe Victor and the Acolytes spoke Latin. Wouldn't have made much sense, since we see in the opening scenes of LoS2 with Gabriel reciting a Latin prayer with The Golden Paladin, and they even used Latin Captions for it.

But the first time you hear the last Acolyte, Guido, speak, he uses Enochian, the language of both Angels and Demons in LoS. Which is not a language that Gabriel nor Trevorcard are familiar with, but Zobek is. This makes sense too, because Guido is an occult leader as well as Satan's son. Satan was an Angel. Zobek's reasoning would've been more complicated. Reasoning for that here.

So, since Gabriel and Trevorcard weren't Angels, of course they wouldn't have known it.

[umbranstilettos]

|| 9 PEOPLE STEPPED INTO THE FRAY

@dontstepinmypuddle

@dragonknightsworn

@lemusegallery

@askarthurgabriel

@cyberrebecca

@the-foxy-fam-and-friends

@the-lonescout

@cauchemarrose

@dawnblxde

“I’m sure you’re itching for a fight and you like what you see~”, The raven witch noticed another figure coming forward as she finished off a group of affinities.

She released an exasperated groan as she swayed her hips side to side before chanting “ARGEDCO” an enochian chant her voice thundering as a portal from demon opened revealing a demon resembling a canine crossbred to a humongous bat appeared and with a snap of her finger the demon multiplied to tens decreasing in size.

“Who knows you might just settle for hors d’oeuvres”, She motioned to the little demon dogs to attack.