#its not for mere mortals to understand when a pretty angel has to light her candles

[like-wuatafauq]

"Why do you want a witchy/spiritual girlfriend they're toxic, love is supposed to be calm"

For you.

I wanna be loved hopelessly, dramatically, boring or calmly,daily, obsessively,possessively, as long as they are caring for how it makes me feel and my mental,physical,spiritual etc well-being is good and they are loyal?? Work on themselves and make it work with me? Then its fine.

She could light her little candles all she wants.

Who am I to stop a goddess working in her realm??🤨 sorry not sorry yall can't understand that.

[ktheist]

prologue: straight into hell

angel!jungkook x soon-to-be-demon!reader. 1.4k words. fluff (or angst if you see it that way) & comedy!

A lot of people don’t know this, but angels are actually God’s hitmen. And the misunderstood demons are merely soul guiders. (x) 

x

“Pretty, isn’t it?” 

Jungkook’s eyes are flecked with silver, his smile, like that of a fascinated child. It sends chills to your spine. The sight before you had not been all too familiar. A child weeps beside his mother’s dead body, a man drags himself across the street, paralyzed waist down. A young boy who would look you and Jungkook’s age had you been mortal, tells his friend he hadn’t seen his cousin when he saw familiar red shoe attached to a leg.

“Let’s go back.” You say dryly, the nearest trees trembling as your wings flare.

“Listen, can you hear them?” Jungkook whizzes past you with excitement, “ah, music to my ear.”

At this speed and height, the air pressure is strong enough to burst a mortal’s eardrum but you can hear just fine. The newscasters’ rushed sentence, the shouts to evacuate, the crackling of fire not too far from the city which ether Jungkook had split into two with his bare hands.

“There are people dying,” you regret snapping at him the moment his expression drops.

“You’re distressed,” he asserts as though he’s surprised, “the council-”

“-Has changed. It didn’t used to be like this, we only take lives when we need to. You’ve changed.”

Before he gets the chance to say anything, you spread your wings, cutting through the air. 

“H-hey, I almost fell!” Jungkook calls out when the wave almost blew him off like a leaf.

Your wings are made of a Fae’s blood. Strum with gold feathers, it catches the rays of the evening sun and calls for the mortals who sail the seas. In your youthful days, you would soar across the horizon so the ocean would look as though there were treasures at the bottom. Men had jumped off their boat in greed only to either drown or be caught by the sirens.

Your wings, they easily overpower Jungkook’s.

Taehyung’s already waiting for you as you truck your wings together. His face is marred with the centuries he’s lived. His wings, made of the moon’s gleam, are getting duller than when you first saw him - almost grey.

“They’re here. They’re ready. You know you don’t have to -” 

You cautiously eye the marbled frames where the doors are supposed to be, “I don’t but I want to.”

He shakes his head, a fragile smile on his lips, “It doesn’t have to be you.”

“The revolution has to have a face,” you grimly return his smile, “it just so happens that I’m more popular than you.”

Jungkook’s booming voice  yells for you two “love birds” to move aside. He’s probably winked at approximately two Seers and an Ashura before he does actually land.

You roll your eyes, treading towards the door only to have him squeeze between you and Taehyung, resulting for the latter to trail behind you two, “what a day at work.”

“Stop slacking off, you have to report to Gabriel, remember?”

The boy groans as though dreading the meeting with the lion - you wouldn’t blame him, Gabes isn’t fun at parties.

“Why can’t I report to you like I always did? Why do you have to upgrade?”

You give him a hard look which he doesn’t seem to be affected at all, “we’ve talked about this, there-”

“Can’t be two archangels the same sky, yeah yeah.”

A sigh escapes your lips when you see the pout he’s making, “Besides, Taehyung’s staying, right Tae?”

When you look over your wings, the last thing you see are midnight black nails. It happened too soon, the searing burn on your back as though someone’s thrown a ball of hellfire right at your wings, the blurred vision of Jungkook yelling for everyone to get out of the way as the world spins.

x

You don’t know how long it’s been - time runs slower for you. A day on earth is a minute in heaven. If they hadn’t banished you while you were blacked out. You refuse to believe it but there was no mistaking those talons - they were once objects of fascination; while the Seraphs shine brighter than the dew drop of a moon, Taehyung had come to you in a beautiful midnight that engulfs the milky way. 

Now, you wince as you sit up; the pain in your back numbs only by a notch. Now, you suffer the consequence of falling for something that was never meant for you.

“They’ve captured the rebels and banished them. You’re the only one left. Taehyung -” his voice breaks and he’s forced to take a breath to calm himself, “Taehyung says you’re the leader. The only reason they haven’t banished you is because Gabriel wanted you to have at least a fair trial - it’s the least the council could do after all that you’ve done.”

You laugh dryly, “what exactly have I done in my hundred centuries of living?”

“You started the great wars and ended both when not even the Seraphs could,” Jungkook’s voice cracks again - that’s a second.

“I didn’t like it - causing so much death. I was carrying out orders until I realize I don’t want to anymore,” the chains on your ankle lights up as you shuffle around, “it was nice of Gabes to give me the benefit of the doubt. What about you though, do you believe Taehyung?”

His gaze trembles but he keeps it on you as though thrown off by what you’re implying, “you’re joking, right?”

“Do you see me laughing?” You hiss at the sizzle the chain makes when you stand, ignoring Jungkook’s scrunched up expression as though it physically pains him to see you rot in this dungeon with metal chains absorbing your livelihood with every minute.

You stand in front of him, the only thing separating you are the bars though no silver could overcome the moon flecks in his eyes.

“I would rather die than feed on the fake sympathy of the council.” You glower, fangs that you never have now bare and ready to snap Jungkook’s pretty little neck, your vision is bright red and the chains on your ankles and wrist crackle as the smell of burning flesh fills the air, the pounding headache you felt when you wake up slowly dissipating as you feel something growing on your head, “You and the rest can go to hell.”

Jungkook takes a step back. And another. and another until he’s wheezing down the hallway like he’s seen you grow another head.

Well, they’re actually thorns.

x

Taehyung never looked at you throughout the whole trial. That’s fair, you wouldn’t want to look at the hideous creature you’ve become. Overtime you’ve grown talons as nails - one not as pretty-looking as the ones Taehyung used to rip your wings (and got away with it on the ground that you were a traitor). You’ve also grown a tail which had flail and accidentally lit an Seer’s satin dress on fire. It’s been flailing around behind your back as though it has a mind of its own and it wants every celestial in the room burned alive.

“The council hereby banishes you,” Gaberial, in his elderly wise voice says, his slit-like eyes not bothering to hide the disappointment you’ve caused him, “to hell.”

Whispers break out a second later. The Archangels remain quiet but the angels don’t bother looking away as they lean to the person next to them and whisper - not that you can’t hear them.

“Despicable!”

“Who would have thought? ____? A traitor?”

“Lord Taehyung had to rip the wings of his own fiance to stop her from betraying the cause.”

“Look at the thing she’s become. If I never knew she was an Archangel, I would’ve believed her to be a full flesh demon.”

You don’t expect for Jungkook to speak up, lips curled condescendingly, “Angels! You’re in the presence of the council, at least have some class.”

When he meets your gaze, the muscles of your face relaxes as you shoot him a smile of gratitude to which his lips twitch ever slight.

Gaberiel clears his throat, before asking you if you had any last words.

“I’ll never understand how the council could be so fucked up as to order a mass massacre. Being banished to hell is better than taking the lives of millions and calling it a purification. We’ve strayed too far from the course - I pray one day you’ll see the light.”

A few physically winces at your choice of word - good.

With two taps of Gaberial’s paws, the ground before you opens up to an ocean of scorching hot flames. You wince only to realize they’re nowhere as scalding as the chains you’re bound to while the angels that trash talked you leap for the door, unable to take the heat and the higher class angels struggle to maintain their composure.

You take a look at Taehyung for the first and last time and your heart still skips a beat when you realize his eyes are on you. Still as warm as the evening sun.

Then you’re plunging a hundred million feet straight into hell.

[twitchesandstitches]

i’ve had a few talks about the Angels of Neon Genesis Evangelion and how they fit into Crossthicc, and they’ve since given me some info on how AT Fields work to factor it into things, so here’s how they work in Crossthicc

firstly, terminology here: much as how ‘demon’ is a super general term for pretty much any supernatural being that happens to look like a demon (or even mortal beings, like tieflings, with a similar look) and that ‘fiend’ is the word we want when referring to actual entities of infinite malice and wickedness, the term angel is similarly broad. Entites such as those based on the actual Biblical Angels, D&D’s aasimar and celestials. the antagonists of Bayonetta, and other things are all around. Angel, however, is not that much of a general term, and where possible, they are given their own proper names since while you can point at a red creaturew ith horns and goat legs and go ‘demon’, the same cannot be said for angels, who come in a variety of forms. Sometimes they are voluptuous humanoids with curve gigantic even by this AU’s standards; sometimes they are multi-faced creatures that speak with the voice of Goodness itself and are profoundly alien in a way that makes even eldritch horrors look approachable.

But for brevity’s sake, i’ll just call the monsters of NGE ‘angels’ for short. In-universe, though, they are unlikely to have any consistent name, as few people realize they are related in any way whatsoever because of how different they are.

the Angels, as per canon, are incredibly old beings. They were not created as they are, though; in the very beginnings of the multiverse, there was a primordial race beyond all others, beings akin to modern lizardmen, dinosaur kings, and Argonians. This primordial race was the first true sapient, or the ones who survived to claim it. Pursuing transcendence, they found it, and they individually became divine entities, surpassing everything around them and transforming into beings of almost limitless power, their forms dictated by the purposes they assigned themselves.

the AT Field, which can be described in Crossthicc as the magical term for the distinction between ‘you’ and ‘that which is Not You’ (a very important thing in magic, as all magic is the soul’s influence on reality), has transformed for the angels. it has evolved, mutating and morphing, into a zone of absolute dominion, a sort of private universe around them where their will is law. They view this as a sacred thing of a sort, and while its hard to make general statements, it seems they have coe to view this dominion over their immediate space as preservation of who/what they are, in a very alien way.

Within this space, the angel determines physics. Attacks warp into being. Atoms sunder, spells unravel, and threats are annihilated. They are absurdly powerful, on the level of many gods; they have refined their understanding of Self for a very long time, and their alien understanding has developed to the point that within their AT field, they determine reality itself. Many magic users would love to figure out HOW they do this, as it would be a huge boon to sorcery. Even if an angel was inclined to convey such knowledge, it would be difficult for one to explain it, as they are profoundly alien creatures that genuinely cannot comprehend mortals any longer, and have long since lost the ability to really relate to most other beings.

They generally seem content to ignore other beings, lurking within the realms of magic and doing... something. They don’t work in groups, each one an entity unto themselves. They ignore each other, and anything they encounter; their vast power annihilates anything that would impede them, and anything that tries to communicate with them (even through violence) is viciously attacked in a kind of panic; they seem to dread the idea of the Self becoming diminished through mingling with another Self, and perhaps fear that they can change through inter-personal interaction.

Nevertheless. They may still yearn for companionship. Certainly, they periodically make things or alter worlds, even as their mere presence completely warps magic for miles around, and its hard to say why they do anything. Sometimes they ignore anything in their path, and other times they calmly attack everything they see, at apparent random. Guardian kaiju, such as Godzilla or Gamera, greatly detest them and often attack them on sight in pre-emptive self defense.

Appearance wise, Angels are super curvaceous, even if they’re not particularly humanoid; due to their raw power, they boast extremely feminine forms with ludicrously massive curves; they are often dwarfed by their own endowments, and these can manifest in some odd configurations; taur-style bodies with bizarre numbers of legs, an unusual amount of breasts, and wings resembling long hair wouldn’t be unusual. Assume that they look as much like monster girl-ified versions of their canon forms, if possible. In-universe, they are highly suspectible to the mental nergies of sapient species, and may be influenced to take on their forms, so they tend to look at least little like anything around them. If they’re near humans, they will look more humanoid. Near krogan, they will look like monster turtle things.

some angels really hate this and will become extremely hostile and attack worlds just to rid themselves of the offending psychic intrusion. Others don’t seem to care, but are just as dangerous in their drifting indifference.

And Angels are very, very, VERY large. With their sheer power, they are far larger than planets; within the magical realms where they can exist at full size with ease, it is hard to perceive them at all, only the drifting outlines of a massive breast, or a projected face-helm. Ships pass into their shadow, and remain in the dark for weeks even moving at full light speed. Within the material realm, though, it takes longer for them to grow to their full size, starting at planet size, and they continue to grow until they might dwarf galaxies, and they still grow. Their AT Fields are thus absurdly powerful, and an expanding zone of reality going completely bonkers as the angel works their strange will.

they can’t really be fought. They might be able to be killed, but it’s highly unlikely and probably going to make Very Bad Things happen. For the most part, they are a cautionary tale for the dangers of transcendence, approached recklessly.

That said, they ARE a species of a sort, even if a small one, and smaller angels (similar to canon ones) do sometimes appear. Lilith is responsible for these, and she is chiefly obsessed with reproduction. Rei may have been made through harvesting an ancient remnant of Lilith herself, though it must be noted that the Angels have no connection to humanity in any particular way here.

Angels are, ultimately, not a threat to face as much as they are a force of nature that can be redirected or at least inconvenienced, but their sheer power makes this an extremely chancey bet. The main factions (Fleet, Stingers, Ringers and Task Force X) can do so, but it’s likely to be so taxing its better to just run and leave them alone. Of these groups, the Fleet, with their transhumanist leanings, are most interested in them, and have figured something out:

the angels are lonely, and at the same time, too afraid to breach their ancient shields and dare to mix their Self with another Self.

The Task Force, for their part, are the only other ones involved with them actively; the Ringers generally ignore them except as a potential threat, while the Stingers have a policy of ‘look, you see one pop up, you run like hell’. the Task Force’s goals with them are unclear, but it seems that they are trying to pacify them in some way.

each Angel is effectively a power unto themselves; they don’t really have any common goals, drifting about and attending to their own weird whims, and their alien mindsets makes it VERY hard to communicate with them at all even if you can do something about their hair-trigger response to having their sense of self threatened through that. Above all else, they are genuinely alien in a way that makes a lot of people uncomfortable and breaks brains.

Pitable, perhaps, but nonetheless, very dangerous.

And Rei Ayanami is becoming one; humanoid, yes, more human than they are, but she is quickly growing in size, and her status as Endowed means that she is quickly becoming more of an uber-mother than Lilith is (thus making Rei more of an Eve). What’s more, the organic mechs operated by the NGE trio are apparentely pseudo-Angels mixed with human genetics and now fueled by Rei and Asuka’s own souls, effectively becoming their true bodies and the seat of their motherhood-fueled powers. Shinji has a more... complicated situation but something is going on there, all the same.

[dawncleyne-blog]

Hallow’s Eve Engagement Part 3

The card player is luca

This is elias

This is Klaus’s costume minus the weird arm 

This is vampire randy

(These are Tiva’s and Ania’s Costumes for the party,Tiva has the additions of hellhounds to spruce up her costume, whilst ania has her grandfather's Demon crossbow)

(This is Ania in her demon form , she’s a white and black demon, equipped with the very first grim reaper's scythe (Undertakers scythe), and once she comes of age she’ll be a full fledged Devil and take over the rule of the underworld.)

Summary: After scaring students to the point of shitting themselves, Klaus takes Ania to her favorite graveyard and finally proposes to her under the crescent moon. As the hellhounds call to the sky, Klaus receives his long-awaited answer.

Tiva’s POV

“If anyone messes up in any way, I will personally take you to Hades myself, understand?” I warned Zach.

“Yeah yeah. Whatever.” The brown-haired teen walked away, disappearing into the shadow of a wall as Ania and Klaus came around the corner. I gave the thumbs up to show that everything was in place. I hope my temporary... ‘assistants’ don’t go too far out of control tonight. There was no doubt that someone would enjoy terrorizing the students, namely Zach. However, I’m positive Ania would give him a run for his money before the night is over. Zach and Ania will be competing for the most screams tonight….

Klaus kissed Ania gently before silently leaving the two of us in the halls of the haunted mansion. “Ready to go get our costumes on?” Ania asked. I gave her a look that said, Do you even have to ask? With a evil laugh, she teleported us to the dorm where our costumes laid out on the beds. As we started to change, Ania suddenly threw me off a little bit by asking, “Will Klaus ever propose, or will he eventually leave me for another girl? It’s not that I don’t trust him, but waiting so long makes you wonder.” She doesn’t suspect anything tonight. Good.

Taking a deep sigh, I said, “If he knows what’s good for him, he won’t make the mistake of leaving you for a mere mortal. And if it turns out that he isn’t who you thought he was, I’ll make sure that I beat your grandfather to the punch. Assuming that there is anything left of his soul.” Ania laughed.

Ania’s costume was a badass dark-angelic assassin, which would soon take on a demonic persona. I was trying to not imagine Klaus’s reaction when he saw her in her outfit. She summoned two wolf-like hellhounds to join me in my assassin costume before we made our way to the main dance area. Once we got there, there was many students wearing costumes either dancing or complaining about the no-alcohol rule this year. If only they knew what awaited them…

Suddenly, a dark-haired Klaus walked up to us with a semi-unhappy and semi-mischievous look on his face. He decided to darken his hair and wear a demon costume with wings, some unusual weapon held by one of his hand, an eye patch over the right eye, and a faint red eye contact to make his eyes appear a mix of demonic red and purple. It took Ania a good five seconds to realize he was her boyfriend.

*Time skip brought to you by Joel trying to get Tiva’s trust despite having failed a lifetime ago*

Ania’s POV

“Are you sure Klaus isn't possessed, Tiva?” Joel nagged Tiva, finally realizing that Klaus had been with us for an half-hour.

“Would you rather he was possessed by Death herself and trying to hunt you down while I stand here saying, 'I told you so?'” Tiva stared at Joel with an evil look in her eye and a mischievous slight grin. Joel took a gulp, turned around, and bolted for the door. Before he made it, the door magically slammed, locking all students of the academy in the dance room. Looks like everything is in working order. Here come a night of fun…

Tiva, Klaus, and I looked at each other, acknowledging the fact that the haunted house was about to begin. We made our way to the door, where Randy, Elias, and Luca waited excitedly while Joel looked perfectly miserable. Suddenly, an automated deep voice, similar to Klaus’s, echoed out throughout the room with an evil laugh. After a few seconds of screaming died down, the room was in dead silence as Tiva and I fought against our urge to laugh.

The automated voice spoke, “Welcome to the 107th annual Gendonlune Ball. Unfortunately for you poor... innocent students, this Hallow’s Eve is the night of your death. There is no escape from your inevitable fate tonight. At the stroke of midnight, you’ll suddenly find yourself in a haunted mansion with ghosts, booby traps, and worst of all, a demoness. You could stay in the room with your group and pathetically attempt to stay alive, or you could try to escape with your team. The odds that you will make it out alive is slim, but possible. (evil laugh) And did I mention that your magic is completely useless as of right now? May Death favor your end.” It laughed again, fading away into silence.

Students left and right glanced at each other, trying to figure out if the voice was genuine or a practical joke skillfully crafted.

Random Student’s POV

My friends and I were whispering to each other fearfully, debating whether Luca had successfully pulled off the ultimate prank on the whole school when all of the sudden, only darkness can be seen. A grandfather clock could be heard in the distance, signaling midnight. Light slowly fades in, and my group of friends plus some other students were still around me, but we were now in a smaller room that appears to be a locked Victorian bedroom. A high-pitched screech echoed from the door just before the door suddenly opened wide.

We glanced at each other, terrified of what could potentially happen. A figure clothed in black gripped a long slender item I couldn't make out. Twisted around the item were silver thorns weaved into a crown laying atop the head of a legless skeletal figure. The hooded figure turned around and walked away, and a minute later, a black-haired, purple-eyed girl in an assassin outfit stuck her head in the door. “The demoness is coming soon. Let’s go!”

We followed the mysterious girl down the corridor where the hooded being previously disappeared into. One guy had the guts to actually ask the girl if following the grim reaper was a good idea. She answered, “One, that was no grim reaper. Two, who ever said anything about following him?” Instead of turning right and following the figure, she led us down the left corridor into a humongous library. A crack of thunder and a flash of light startled us, but does not seem to bother the assassin girl. Darkness swallowed the room, and numerous howls echoed from every direction.

Where the assassin girl stood, a candle was lit, revealing the face of the famous Elias Goldstein, reading a book as usual. He wore a badass male witch librarian costume, and sheathed on the table in front of him was a sword, known for its playfully dangerous personality. It was none other than Excalibur. As Elias looked up from his book towards the temperamental sword, there was a warning chime of the grandfather clock. Suddenly, the ground shook, almost like an earthquake or an explosion from a distance.

Standing on the edge of the balcony was a long haired male with a glowing burned and aged six of spades card in his long artisan fingers. His green eyes glazed over my group and stared straight at Elias, preparing to throw his now burning card. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Joel over by the table, about to touch the infamous Excalibur. Elias noticed too late, but he was unable to do anything about it, now in a magical duel with the mysterious guy. The Excalibur floated up, unsheathing itself as Joel slowly backed up.

I yelled at my group to run just as the enchanted blade turned its point towards us. We were scrambling into the corridor and tried to go back to the room we originated at. Blocking our path was a brown-haired male with head trauma and an evil grin. He started bolting for us as we kept running down the corridor where a feminine figure stood at the very end. By the time one of us noticed that we were trapped, the ground collapsed from under our feet. We were in complete darkness with a slight odor of garlic and iron. Right above us was faint bickering between a male named Zach and a female who sounds familiar, but it was suddenly drowned out by a loud screech in the distance.

Klaus Goldstein, wearing a vampire hunter costume, walked up to us with a torch in one hand and a lethal crossbow in the other. He lit a torch that was on the wall behind us, then said, “Grab the torch. You’ll need it to defend yourself.”

“From what?” one of the girls asked at her own risk.

“Don’t you mean who? Randy has been transformed into a vampire by the demoness herself, and he’s now roaming around the dungeons. The headmaster has asked me to hunt him down to protect any students that may actually have a chance of surviving.” A metallic clang echoed from the direction Klaus approached from. “Get ready to run in case I fall.”

Adorkable Randy walked out of the darkness, batting his eyes in reaction to the torch. At first, he appeared to be perfectly normal, besides the lack of costume. Then, he grinned madly, revealing his bloody fangs. With a quick motion, Klaus shoved us past the blood sucker and fired his silver crossbow at Randy, saying, “In the name of God, impure souls of the living dead shall be banished into eternal damnation!”

Before we could do anything, Randy leapt up, narrowly missed by the arrows, and pounced upon Klaus, nailing him down. We hurried away into the darkness with a single torch, not knowing where to go. Turning the corner, we nearly ran into Excalibur, still persistently hunting for us. “Go go go!”

We bolted up some random stairs and through a series of corridors, not paying attention to our surroundings except for the fact that there was a magical emo sword chasing us. Pretty soon, we found ourselves cornered at a dead end, about to meet our Creator. Out of nowhere, the assassin female from earlier dropped down from the ceiling, facing the infamous emotional-teen weapon with hands on her hips. It was almost like Excalibur was terrified of her. It turned itself right around and went flying off to its owner, whoever that may be.

She turned to face our group and said, “You guys want to get out of here? We have to confront the demoness, the ruler of this tormented mansion. It’s the only way we’ll ever get out.”

“What?!?! Isn’t she just going to kill us anyways?!?!” Joel stupidly protested.

“You’re right. She will kill us, whether it’s in these corridors and rooms or as we walk right out the main door that is cursed. If we can keep her busy long enough, then there is a chance that we’ll be able to walk out alive. Who’s coming with?” Everyone stood in silence, unsure of whether to listen to her or try to make it out by themselves. The black-haired female started walking away, and we followed behind.

Eventually, we stopped walking right outside the throne room, with the doors casted wide open. Standing in the center of the room was a girl with blonde hair with red tips wearing thick assassin armor. What the heck? That’s no demoness. That’s a student.

Ania’s POV

Tiva led a group of confused and terrified students, including Joel, into the throne room. The fright of their life was about to begin.

“Karma, I demand you to reveal yourself!” Tiva yelled. With a sinister voice, I answered with a little magic to make it sound as though I was elsewhere, “Which mere mortal dare to command Karma, demoness and granddaughter of Hades himself, to appear before mere humans?” Tiva stepped forward while the terrified students tried to run out the door. With a wave of the hand, the doors slammed in their faces. They watched in horror as I morphed into my demon form before their eye.

My white, red-tipped wings extended from my shoulder blades and out to its full span as my skin shimmered into a pale silver-white tone. My assassin armor shifted into my demon armor, as elegant and invincible as ever, and my long-missed scythe, thorns wrapped around a metal skull, rose into my hands from the ground. My hair faded into pure white while retaining its vibrant, blood-like red tips, and my fangs grew just slightly longer and sharper while remaining human-like. My demonic aura yearned to take control and consume all creatures in the throne room while my humanity fought against it.

In the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but think, I always forget how hard it is to hold down my power when in the human world. It’s never been this strong before, but again, it is Hallow’s Eve, the second most dreaded night for superstitious people of the year, not to mention the fact that I literally have not been in my demon form since before I started coming to this academy.

Before I knew it, I found my demonic side saying, “Well, looks like you get your wish. Not for long, though.” My demon form let out a demonic, evil laugh as Tiva only raised an eyebrow. Well, Tiva definitely knows something is up. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Joel trying to sneak past me. Unfortunately, so did my dark side. With no control over myself whatsoever, I glided over to Joel in a blink of an eye, nailing him to the wall by the throat. My eyes darkened as I stared into his soul, withering in fear.

Next thing I knew, I was raising my scythe, preparing to finish him off. WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING?!?! I CAN'T TAKE HIS SOUL! Another part of me started to whisper enchantingly, Come on, Ania, you know he deserves to die. Especially after what he have done to you, or even better, your bestie. Nearly giving in, I prepared myself to swing the scythe, when all of the sudden… “KARMA NOX!” I morphed back into my normal form unarmed, collapsing onto the ground as I heard Tiva tell the mortified students to make a run for it now while the demoness was powerless.

Almost immediately, footsteps faded away into the silent distance. Glancing up, I watched Tiva jog towards me with a concerned look in her eyes. “Are you okay, Ania?”

“No. I nearly- no, I lost complete control over myself when my demon form appeared. I was on the verge of just letting myself do the deed. I let Klaus down. I told him that I’d never lose control of my dark side, and tonight, I failed.”

Tiva looked me straight in the eye and flat out said, “You may have lost control of your demon side, but you most certainly did not fail Klaus. You entrusted me with the safe word to ensure that tonight would not end tragically. By doing so, you have gained the ultimate control over yourself.” I was completely confused on what she meant. The truth is, the fact that I felt like I failed Klaus was the least of my worries…

I still had to face my greatest fear involving my demonic side: my grandfather.

[stevedonnellyfaith-blog]

Groaning Anticipation (Post 81) 3-25-15

                        Like Advent, Lent is a liturgical season of expectancy.  It is hard for me to fathom what kind of eagerness the angels must have felt for Jesus’ birth and then finally for God’s plan to unfold during Holy Week.  It is Catholic tradition that both the angelic and demonic figures had foreknowledge that the messiah would arrive on the scene at some point, but none of them knew the year or circumstance, so they just waited.  Persevering from the dawn of time until Jesus’s birth is pretty exceptional endurance.  This tenacious devotion erupts in a crescendo of celebration at the nativity and then again at Palm Sunday almost in the same way that a powerful football team charges into the stadium with triumph before the kickoff of a home game.  Engagement for the decisive contest has not yet begun, but Palm Sunday lights the final fuse so that the resolution of our salvation must follow its inevitable burning course, thus ending countless millennia of waiting by the entirety of creation.

“And some of the Pharisees, from amongst the multitude, said to him: Master, rebuke thy disciples.  To whom he said: I say to you, that if these shall hold their peace, the stones will cry out” [Luke 19:39-40]

Waiting is a fundamental part of life.  I just returned from my second week-long Mid-Western foray in as many months.  Throughout that part of the country there is a palpable atmosphere of groaning anticipation for the coming of springtime.  They know that the ice will melt and the buds will bloom, but they are ready to get on with things even to the point of ignoring reality.  On the first Sunday of my visit, the temperature was about 32 degrees, but all the Ohioans showed up for 9:00 mass in windbreakers or sweatshirts. Their attitude was that if winter was determined to continue, it would have to do so without them.

A lot is made about how intolerant our society is of waiting. Over a mid-week lunch with my parents I confessed to my dad that I absolutely abhor one of his favorite plays, Waiting for Godot, to the same extreme that a liver and onions entry turns my stomach. I had chosen to see the play with my older brother Jim in high school on the wrong side of an eight hour plane ride and my appreciation of Samuel Beckett’s masterwork was ruined by my accidental and intermittent napping throughout the play.  Every time I woke up, the same two guys were still waiting for the third other guy who seemed to own the worst wristwatch imaginable. My jet lag seemed to have trapped me in their nightmarish allegory.  I recently saw the play on an internet list of literary works that could have been destroyed by a single text message. “Hey, Vladamir, got a text from Godot.  He says he’s not coming.”  I can’t imagine that a play that forces the audience to endure an interminable length of pointless insanity will reach the big screen soon in a financially successful way, but who knows.  Natalie made me take her to see the Sponge Bob Movie on my previous visit and I understand that it did very well.

Americans have historically been bad at waiting. Innovation continues to facilitate the erosion of our attention span.  Except for the Super Bowl, everybody now tapes television shows and fast forwards through the commercials.  During the one yearly televised football game that Pam used to tolerate, she preferred to fast forward through the football plays to get to the commercials and half-time show.  Younger people generally don’t fast forward through commercials because they are texting or otherwise occupied on their phones and have usually forgotten that they were watching television in the first place.

With regard to most virtues I don’t believe that God necessarily grades on a curve, but I am hopeful that Jesus will be understanding about my serial lack of patience when I receive my personal sit-down with him after I have shed this mortal coil.  For instance, the other day I stopped by Wiley’s to visit Nick and noticed that Zack was in the garage cleaning a brace of ducks that he had shot. I have never hunted any bird or animal and may have caught less than ten fish in my entire lifetime.  Zack is a young man who is willing to follow a multi-step process that begins with fashioning ammo and ends with a knife and a fork, while I have always preferred to obtain my eatable avian entries at one of several drive-thru windows.  It seems much less bothersome; I prefer to receive my meal dutifully cooked and packaged within thirty feet of squawking my order into an electronic megaphone.  I leave stalking, hunting, gathering, agricultural endeavors, and all culinary activities not involving a microwave to individuals with a much more mature temperament than I have developed.

God, though, is an expert instructor and prolific proponent of the art of waiting.  He made Abraham wait a hundred years for the birth of Isaac and was forever leaving the Jews in captivity or vassalage for decades or centuries. The angels, with perfect disposition, waited for the main feature without complaint, popcorn or snacks for billions of years, trusting in the goodness and mastery of God’s plan. For them, the perfection of the plan was the predicate, so impatience or second-guessing was an impossibility; there was only anticipation and excitement built upon a foundation of trust so firm that doubt in the plan was an impossibility due to their very nature from the moment that the entirety of the choirs chose up sides at the very beginning of time.  Truly the entire universe was created for and awaited Holy Week and Easter Sunday in particular when one small rabbit leaves colored eggs, chocolate candy and jelly beans for children throughout the world.  Also Our Savior died for our sins and was resurrected so that we might gain eternal life with Him as part of His Royal family.

In this season of Lent, on a personal level, I have been surprised at how much patience has been granted to me with regard to my job search. I can see how He has provided materially for he Donnelly family so that we have been able to enjoy almost a peaceful respite to the maelstrom of the last four or five years.  While it is possible that we are merely experiencing a deceptive calm akin to the eye of a storm, I don’t expect to ever return to the excruciation that we have endured for half of young Natalie’s life.  I trust that God’s plan is good, regardless of whether my personal cross is heavy or light.  Each member of our family has chosen The Lord in a fashion that while the election may not be irrevocable, it is hard to imagine the circumstance in which one of us decides to give atheism a go.

For us, there doesn’t seem to be any question about whether God exists or whether he loves us.  Nicholas’ journey gave us an understanding of the substitution of the ram for Isaac as logical conclusion of Abraham’s almost sacrifice was fulfilled and revealed on Good Friday and then redeemed and given meaning on the following Sunday.  The Donnelly’s know that consolation follows desolation because resurrection followed crucifixion.  While job loss is highly undesirable by most anyone who is working for a decent employer, as a desolation unemployment pales in comparison to several of the health and other challenges faced by many families at IHM this Lent.  Our family has an expectation that there is a solution on the way that will not take millennia, centuries or decades. Whether it takes weeks or months, God’s plan is God’s plan.  We will stay faithful and prepare for the solution that is surely coming although there will be no stones crying out – just updates to my Facebook and LinkedIn profiles.