#what gods did i anger to have acquired these demons

[desh4d0wm4st3r]

why am I always delt batshit insane friends? why cant fucking steve from networking get them?

[bapydemonprincess]

6 or 10 for the angry confessions (I'm trusting you to do something amazing with whatever ship you feel like dabbling into!)

MHMMM I think I have an idea, I am a bit low on energy and practically DRAGGING the inspiration to do this out of the depths of my brain buuuut.. lets have some Sebagrelle drama UwU

It had seemed to be a typical evening of Grelle Sutcliff visiting... Until the red reaper had suddenly started stiffening up.. and all-together pulled away from the sweet yet hungry kisses she shared with the demon, and her usually playful and flirty demeanor took a drastic U turn into a complete opposite barrage of emotions.

"Rufina, please tell me what is bothering you or else I cannot-"

"Oh, please as if you DON'T KNOW." She snarled, now full on livid and on the verge of clearly marching out without giving ANY explanation.

Sure the chaotic reaper in red Grelle Sutcliff could most certainly blow up from time to time. She'd huff and puff and sometimes need to literally stomp around to get it out. However.. very rarely was her anger so specifically serious and hurt and focused on Sebastian themselves.

As if the demon had finally spurned her.

And she stood there, on the spot, in the middle of Sebastian's room, staring at her red high heeled shoes and nothing else.

Fists gripped tightly at her sides.

“…This is why I knew I shouldn’t have gotten close to you.”

Sebastian had already been stalk still as well, accessing this situation like his long immortal life depended on it.

But that...

Eyebrows lifted high, mouth parted open; agape with pure open honest to god shock.

...

Sebastian had always sensed despite Grelle's constant foreplay and coaxing from the very beginning she had some reservations about a full-time dedicated relationship as well. Clearly better at hiding that fact than the butler, who wore such insistences on his sleeves like giant signs for EVERYONE to be sure to see.

But once the butler had finally given her the "green light" and they'd started to get quite a bit cozy...

(...aka a lot of intercourse...)

...She'd "softened up" in her own Grelle Sutcliff fashion; holding and kissing the demon idly, from cheeks to arms to hands. Giving the butler flowers and little trinkets- of a usual feline variety -almost every time she arrived.

And of course the immortal creature, such an expert in these types of things (even if mostly for the sake of SEDUCTION not a full time relationship), returned the gestures in full.

And so for a good long while.. things had appeared to be going perfectly between demon and reaper.

Up until... whatever the hell this was!

"I.. don't understand."

Sebastian finally broke the choking silence, hands starting to carefully lift from his sides, as if to reach out to his lover in order to comfort.

...Or to shield himself if possibly necessary if talking things out did nothing.

A huff of a bitter, quiet laugh left Grelle.

And she shook her head a bit.

"You really don't know? You... you never sensed me out there?"

"...Out where?"

"The other. Day."

Grelle was full on gritting her sharp teeth as she got the words out.

"Just the other. DAY."

Sebastian's eyebrows dropped down at once as his mind started doing the fastest back-track through his memory it had ever done. (That he could recall..)

All he could remember of any kind of "other day" was the little outing he, the Earl, and all the servants had partaken in when they'd needed to go shopping for things such as a new hat for Finnian and new spectacles for Mey Rin.

"Do you mean you had seen Young Master, the servants and I out and about in London...? Because.. it was merely a brief outing to acquire-"

"MERELY AN OUTING THAT TURNED RIGHT INTO YOU SAVING THE LIFE OF A GORGEOUS SLIP OF A WOMAN; WELL KNOWN FOR HER LOVELY ACTING CAREER, MIND... AND EVEN WENT ON TO HELP HER BACK TO THE THEATRE PROPER AND.. AND..."

Grelle's face looked ready to explode at this point.

"LET HER RIDE YOU WHILE YOU WERE IN THAT.. THAT.. FUCKING UNICORN SUIT!!!"

"Oh.. sweet Lucifer..."

"AND THEN SHE GOT TO KISS YOU!! ON THE UNICORN SCHNOZ, YES, BUT STILL!!!!!"

"Grelle."

Sebastian's eyebrows went up again, and his lips were still parted, and he finally dared to take a step closer.

"I imagine, my dear, you did not catch exactly what happened after all of that..?"

Grelle was openly sniffling, and quickly slapped a hand to her face to rub away the tears threatening to reveal themselves away.

"What does it matter, the fact remains that all of THAT happened! There's no.. taking it back! And.. honestly.. it was foolish of me to expect YOU of all people to become only loyal to one lover!"

"Rufina you must realize by now that's just.. foolish of you to think!"

The demon had moved close enough, to reach out- very very carefully -and gently cupped the woman's still reddened face.

His thumb glided easily over the drenched cheeks, as he gently stared into her eyes.

"Keep in mind the fact that I am with you to this day is a miracle, my dear.. For you know better than anyone that I had no intent on being in any kind of relationship."

Grelle still frowned and tried to look away from that damned blasted sweet and open pretty face before her.

"But..."

"However when it does come to demons and the concept of .. love in this sense.. "

And Sebastian's face, too, began to heat up, for he'd never planned on telling her this..

(At least not for a long, long time..)

"We mate for life, Grelle."

The reaper's disgruntled look started to fade instantly as curiosity and surprise took hold.

"And considering how long are lives are.. it is indeed a very serious matter when a demon finally makes such a decision."

"But.." Grelle started again, and briefly her frustration flared up once more.

"If that's the case WHY did you DO all THAT?!"

The demon chuckled openly...

And shrugged.

"Advertising."

....

"What."

"My young lord has begun to sell perfumes for Funtom. And so, while at first I merely saved that woman out of wishing to stop and traffic catastrophe.. I saw the opportunity while helping her- and her lover -out in making it to their appointed play on time.."

"....HUH???"

"So then once that was all said and done, Ms. Diaz would be delighted in becoming the mascot for young master's newest product of perfumes!"

...

Grelle was no longer angry.

...

Nor was she happy.

...

This whole reveal simply made the red reaper confused..

...

(And... beginning to feel a bit.. embarrassed...)

"Grelle,"

Sebastian cupped her face in both hands once again.

He was completely serious, as he leaned in, staring deeply into her phosphorescent gaze with his gleaming red hellish one.

“What part of "I want you, and only you" do you not understand, my love?"

And then... despite still being a little confused about why the hell Sebastian was LIKE THIS...

Grelle started to crack a smile.

And tear up again.

"Ohh.. you.. silly old devil," She choked out, laughing again, and tried to reach up to wipe her eyes again.

It was at this point that Sebastian Michaelis started purring in relief and if that wasn't enough, his lips had turned up into the sweetest, gentlest smile.

"Perhaps, but I'm your silly old devil, Miss Sutcliff.. Please remember that."

"Ohhh, SHUSH!"

Grelle practically squealed, before glomping her arms around the demon's neck and slamming her lips into his.

And that sweet delightfully deep purring seemed to amplify as the demon curled his arms fully around his love.

His mate.

And returned her kiss.

Note: This whole plot is referencing the bonus chapter 85 The Butler, Taking Off, which just coincidentally happens just after the Public School arc is over. Just imagine Grelle Sutcliff was there all along.. getting a good look of THIS:

SCANDELOUS!! 😱

[gale-gentlepenguin]

LOZ TOTK Ficlet: Understanding

The Demon King had demonstrated the unholy power that didn’t seem to diminish one bit since he was sealed thousands of years ago. Link could feel the dark energy from the hand he had recently acquired, the muscle memory of Rauru’s arm on full display as it tensed when the Demon king flexed his power.

The Sages were covered and restrained by the gloom that he created and shot out. Link was the last one standing still able to fight.

The demon king lowered his gaze to Link.

“If it’s any consolation, you are fairing better than Rauru did, and you only have a fraction of his powers and down a sage.” Ganondorf commended

Link kept his eyes on the evil king. His expression stoic and hiding anger.

“Looking in your eyes, I can see that of all people, you can understand me the most.”

The statement surprised Link, his expression shifted to confusion.

“I am as shocked as you are. But that look of hatred. I have felt it before. It’s the very same emotion I felt eons ago.”

The demon king touched his chin as if he was trying to focus.

“Yes, I know this feeling well. Only ones destined for greatness can understand this feeling.”

Link kept his eyes on Ganondorf, waiting for any opening.

“You were born with a destiny that held the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

Link didn’t react, letting him speak.

“A destiny that you would do anything to live up to. Sacrificing parts of yourself, any weakness in your heart in order to live up to it.”

Link’s eye twitched, he felt that the demon king did understand him.

“And as you prepare for your destiny, an opposing force, a power far beyond Any comprehension appears, shaking everything up. All your preparation, all of your pain left for nothing! And all you can do is watch as everything you swore to protect is swallowed up by the overwhelming might.”

Link watched as for a brief moment, his eyes appeared less monstrous.

“I watched as my kingdom, my birthright was ripped away from me by a powerful god like being that had no regard for your pain or struggle. He simple appeared and forced you to your knees.” Ganondorf spat in disgust.

Link tightened his grip on the master sword.

“And I refused to simply lay down and accept this INVADER’s rule. And I took power when I had the chance in order to take back what was mine, and get revenge for everything he took from me!” The demon king roared.

The rage shifted to glee.

“But now things changed. Now I’m the one with power. And unlike Rauru who squandered his might, I am using every ounce of it to achieve my destiny, Ruling this land!”

Link charged, catching Ganondorf off guard. He tried to block but Link was too fast, slashing his chest with all his might!

“AGHHHHHH!” The malice filled monster yelled in pain.

The sages watched as Link followed up with a second slash, then a third, and then a fourth.

Ganondorf used his power to push him back.

“You arrogant Child!”

“You’re right.”

The voice was softer than many were expecting from the hero that held the master sword.

“I do know what it’s like to have everything I love taken by a force beyond my understanding, it has happened to me twice already.”

The demon king moved his blade in front of him. Preparing a strike.

“The difference is, I am not doing this for destiny or birthright. That stopped mattering to me long ago. I’m fighting you so I can find Zelda and we can fix all the damage you’ve done.”

Link prepared for Ganondorf’s attack and charged him the moment Ganondorf did.

There was a clash.

Link wobbled but stayed on his feet, The demon king however began falling.

“No! I will not lose here! Even if I lose myself. I will cover this land in darkness!”

Link realized what Ganondorf was going to do.

[fujobrainrot]

Part 1: ill wind

I can't draw rn but I keep having thoughts™, so I decided to try to write them instead. This is part 1 of however many. I already wrote 3 parts and I'll post them soon, after I finish editing them. This is unbeta'd so I welcome any constructive criticism. The lore is completely fucked because of changes in the timeline so just roll with it. Title is from a Radiohead song

---------

1600-ish words, gen, no ships, no TWs (may change in the future), John centric/John's POV

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Summary: John didn't die and Sam is deep into his blood addiction.

He never thought he'd live to see the day that Sam would succumb to the filth inside him. He always knew he'd be the one to kill him once he did. 

He never thought he'd live to see the day that Sam would succumb to the filth inside him. He always knew he'd be the one to kill him once he did. 

John had followed Sam from the motel where he shared a room with the demon Ruby. Whose blood he drank regularly. Azazel’s rot - his Sammy would never do something so vile of his own volition. His plan had been to confront Sam there, in the parking lot of the motel, and kill the monster his son had become. After that, he would hunt down Ruby and deal with her. He had never told his sons, didn’t want them to use it, but he possessed a knife that could kill demons, acquired through means he was not proud of. He had used it only once, in a scuffle where he had no choice, it was either kill or die, no time for an exorcism. But as the demon died, so did the host. John was no stranger to murder - he had done unspeakable things in his time with the marines, and more yet to protect his Sammy from a group of hunters who had learned of the boy’s tainted blood and decided to take matters into their own hands - but his vow as a hunter was to protect people, and he would uphold it as best he could. God help him, though, he would make an exception for Ruby. He knew nothing of the poor woman she had locked away inside herself. Was she a sister? A mother? What were her dreams, aspirations, hobbies, talents? It didn’t matter, she would die too. 

There, in that parking lot, looking at Sam, however, he couldn’t do it. With his heart beating fast, mouth dry, his hands trembling, his blood rushing so fast he could hear nothing else, he hesitated. By the time he came to his senses, Sam was already in his car. So he followed him. John had hotwired the oldest, most decrepit car he could find before coming here, couldn't just take the Impala given the circumstances, and used it to follow Sam expertly. He had taught his boys everything they knew, everything that made them, including their faults and weaknesses. Maybe those most of all. So he knew exactly how to tail them unnoticed, had done it before.

It had to be tonight. Not another day could pass, John refused to let his boy deteriorate further. 

Sam seemed to have been headed to the closest dive bar at first, but after parking, he walked past it and into the wilderness behind it. John knew how to traverse any environment, be it urban or wild, without making a sound, knew how to take advantage of blind spots and shadows. Especially an environment like this, with thick flora, hot and damp and alive. It reminded him of his service, put him in a very specific mindset, like he could go through with any order, regardless of how opposed to it he may be. Made him feel like a soldier. Ready - and yet unprepared. 

After some time stalking his son, when he feels he’s far enough away from civilization, he decides it’s time, can’t delay this any longer. He raises his gun and shouts Sam’s name.

Sam turns quickly and meets his father’s eyes in the gloom, his own demon-black and large in surprise, and John's full of anger and the fear he can't allow himself to feel. John grips his gun with both hands on the handle, finger on the trigger, safety off, muzzle trained on Sam’s heart. He’s marine steady.

The air is stale and humid in this swampy forest and his boots caked in mud. John's feet are uncomfortable inside damp are socks. Surrounding them are the sounds of insects, frogs, the occasional howl of some canid. It makes John sweat with anticipation, but he can see that his son's skin is dry, unnaturally so. Lit by the full moon filtered by the canopy above them, he looks pale, long dead. Marble smooth. 

Sam's mouth slowly curls into a mirthful and derisive smile, one that looks like it should show sharp blood-covered fangs instead of his son’s perfect white teeth. His dimples frame that disgusting grin in a way that turns John's stomach with the wrongness of it. It's uncanny. His hands are still steady though. It has to be tonight. 

Sam breaks the silence with a snicker. “What do you think you’re doing?” he pauses, but John can’t say a word. “Are you here to kill me?”, he laughs again, louder, cruel. John’s doesn’t falter, but his throat is tight and dry, can’t force out a single word. He won’t admit it but the fact is that, under Sam’s gaze, he doesn’t know what to say. Sam spreads his arms, “Go on, then.”

His son. His boy, his baby, his Sammy. A bead of sweat rolls down his temple. Pull the trigger, he tells himself, but he doesn’t. He’s not your Sammy anymore. He’s Azazel’s weapon. “It’s not too late, Sam”, John finally manages, his voice gravel rough but thankfully steady. He takes his finger away from the trigger. What the fuck? Yes it is, he’s too far gone. There’s nothing you can do for him now. “You can be cured, Sammy, I know how. I can help you”, he pleads.You can’t. Finish him. He clicks the safety on, lowers his gun. Idiot. “You don’t have to do this, don’t have to be this - this-” Crap. He hates it when he stutters.

“Yes I do. You know it, don’t lie to me - to yourself.” Sam finally drops his arms, and his demeanor changes. He tilts his head down a bit, somber. His eyes look bigger like this. “You’ve always known there was something dirty in me, since I was a little kid. You’ve known so much about this, about me, and - and you lied, and you kept lying. Hell, you even know his name! How long, huh? How long have you known his name and you never told me?” Sam barks out a laugh, sardonic and defeated at the same time. After a moment he continues. John thinks he sounds exhausted. “You know why I need to do this dad. I need to stop Lilith, I’m the only one -”

“No, you’re not”, John interrupts, loud and assertive. He’s glad his trepidation doesn’t come through. “We can figure this out, Sam, we have other options. We can figure out how to make more bullets. And even if we can’t use the Colt for whatever damn reason, there’s gotta be something somewhere on how to stop her. We’ll find another way. We always do” John begs. Sam’s expression doesn’t change.  

There’s a pregnant pause between them. The air feels thick, heavy, suffocating in John’s lungs. He can do this, needs to do this, to bring his baby back to him, to protect and fix him. He needs to kill him. He needs to wash away his sickness, he needs to destroy Azazel’s weapon no matter what it takes, he needs -

Sam takes an apprehensive step towards his father. Yes baby, please, please come to me. The closer Sam gets, the more John’s relaxes. His chest fills with warmth and although Sam’s eyes are still hard and black, John can already feel his son in his arms. He lets go of himself then, his hands shaky and his furrowed brows relaxing, his breath quick, though he doesn’t let himself smile yet. He thinks he’s about to cry. When Sam reaches him, John's eyes are wet. Sam’s face is still unreadable to him however. It doesn’t look light and hopeful like it should be in a moment like this, but he chooses to ignore it. He hasn’t had his boy this close to him in months.

Then, Sam wraps one hand around John’s own on the grip, and the other around the barrel, and part of John feels delirious at the skin to skin contact he missed so much with his youngest, so desperate he was that this feels like a caress, that he doesn’t register Sam’s intention immediately. Slowly, firmly, Sam brings the gun back up, lines it with his heart again, and John’s blood goes cold. In Sam’s eyes, John sees a veil of sadness, anger, and something else he’s too emotionally illiterate to understand. 

Despair paints John’s own face then, mouth agape, eyebrows raised and eyes big, scared. The tears he was holding back break, roll down his cheeks and disappear into his days-old scruffy beard. His chin quivers like a child's, and he shakes his head in disbelief. His thoughts devolve into no no no no no no no no no no Sammy no!

“Do it. ”

I can’t. 

Sam’s face twists into a snarl, and he demands again, louder, harsher, “Do it!”. 

I can’t. I never could.

Sam disengages the safety, brings John’s index finger into the trigger with ease. John’s hands have gone slack, and if he had the mental bandwidth to think of anything, he would be surprised that he’s still standing. 

“This is what you do, isn’t it, John? Kill monsters? One shot, that’s all it takes, one squeeze of your finger and this will all be over. You’ll have done your job.”

A long moment passes, and Sam sighs. He seems disappointed somehow. He removes John’s hands from the gun and John lets them fall to his sides. He hasn’t blinked once since Sam held up the gun, but tears continue to trail down his cheeks. Sam takes John’s gun with him as he steps away, and John does nothing. 

When he’s some meters away from his father, Sam turns and says, cutting like a blade, “Coward.” 

I am. 

Sam keeps walking away and John’s legs finally give. He doesn’t register the cold mud seeping into his jeans where he fell to his knees, or on the tips of his fingers, low because his shoulders are slumped and his body is curling into itself. His gaze is fixed on Sam’s back, and when his boy disappears among the foliage, he hiccups, and then starts to sob.

[adventuringalchemy]

Confessed!! ✨

@novatheastropirate | glimpses of the past .

--------------- " BECAUSE!!! "

--------------- it had never happened before. well, it had. many times. but never in front of them. never in their face. only in the past, when he was with... him. for a moment, there was silence. pure quiet. the piercing scream that erupted from the depths of ivor's lungs slashed apart the interaction and left it there, bleeding to death. it didn't even hit him that he let himself go until he saw ellegaard's face. he had never seen her like this before. horrified. shocked. unaware of the demons that the alchemist had just freed from the angered and exhausted depths within.

--------------- hands are pushed together. sharp nails tap their tips. immediately, the man turns. a pivot of the boot, and his behind is toward the woman. he hadn't told her yet, but there is this closeness he had with her. a certain feeling of cherished warmth. her intelligence was remarkable, and her willingness to listen to him ramble on was so touching and rejuvenating. simply put, ivor had fallen head over heels for her. but, he knew better than to ever say that out loud. letting any semblance of emotions outward never resulted in anything positive. at least, that's what he was told... from him.

--------------- " sorry, ellie, i... normally don't let myself get that carried away. " it took him a total of five seconds. just five seconds. but the blood from the slashing scream had pooled so heavy that the now thickness of the room made it last forever. as the now quiet, vulnerable words drift out, he turns back. ivor is praying to the gods that the others didn't hear him from below. " i suppose sometimes i don't really know how to deal with my emotions. "

--------------- it's a part of the alchemist she has never seen. dreadfully uncomfortable, the tall and slender man is fidgeting about. fingers are tapping together, feet are squirming and shuffling beneath the robes. eyes are looking from side to side to try and brew up some sort of explanation. his heart is racing. his knees are bending; the sounds of clinking bottles in his inventory are helping him keep calm.

--------------- " you could say that i was never taught to express myself. " eyes are now back on the woman, after he had found the correct words. " you see, before the order and before me, there was a very advanced brewer home to a village far away from my homelands. i left my family at a very young age to seek his knowledge, but... it wasn't only fine alchemy that i was enlightened with. "

--------------- and just like that, the man is uncomfortable again. he tries to get closer to ellegaard. maybe, perhaps, her presence would calm him. it always did before. it's instinctual at this point, to want to observe and be near. but realistically, it's all subconscious. on the outside, it isn't helping. soft clicks of his boots as he grows closer.

--------------- " it was always when we had to acquire resources from animals. rabbits, turtles. " arms are gesturing to try and find some semblance of relief from this discomfort. normally ivor is already an expressive man; those feelings must get out somehow. but now, as open as he's being, it's thrice the amount of expression than he would ever share. " i couldn't ever stop... grieving for their lives! i wished it never had to be that way! and my mentor would punish me for it.

--------------- " 'you want to surpass me? then stop caring!' " voice deep and grumbly, low with a tinge of growling to it. an impression. ivor looked away again, back turning from the woman. " 'you can never have any expertise if you keep crying like that! if you keep feeling...' "

--------------- the voice trails off. and ivor is left there, staring at the map they had made, trying his best not to cry.

[koqabear]

hit me with your killshot, baby (C.YJ)

Summary:

It was a small, quiet town you had decided to move into. One that you could help with any healing or magical needs. What you didn’t expect, however, was to face a demon too powerful for your own good. The worst part? Seems like he’s gotten attached.

Yeonjun x reader/ demon!yeonjun x witch!reader

Genre: fantasy, enemies to ?? thriller(?), angst if you squint me thinks

Word count: 3.0K

Warnings: general physical fighting/violence, mentions of scars, burns, bones breaking, knives, blood, fire, descriptions of pain (let me know if I should add anything!)

a/n: This might get another part if it gets a good response <3 Writing fantasy is rlly fun for me as well, I’m so glad that this is the story that got me out of my writers block lmao

comments and reblogs are always welcome and much appreciated, hope you guys enjoy! <3

Disclaimer!! Absolutely nothing about this story is accurate or real, anything and everything that mc the witch does is made up!

It was about three in the morning when you got the call.

“Hello?” You said, eyes squinted as you had just been woken up from your sleep. The line remained silent for a moment, leaving you to wonder if this was a scam caller. You spoke again, only to hear hasty footsteps becoming louder, presumably running towards the phone.

“Hello?!” The voice called out, the loud exclamation causing you to jolt awake. “Oh my god, oh my god!” Their exasperated voice rang through your line, and you stood to get properly dressed, already anticipating their request.

“Where do you live?” You asked sharply, grabbing the keys to your car and waiting for their answer. They stuttered out their address, the sounds of the rain coming into your ear. They were now outside.

“Please come quick, this spirit has been bothering me for weeks now, I could have sworn they were harmless-“ they cried into the phone, only to get cut off by your stern command.

“Leave your home. I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”

They agreed, their voice quiet and shaky, and you hung up, beginning to drive to your new task.

It was no secret your town had a problem with the supernatural. That was the whole reason you lived here.

‘The town witch’ was what they called you. You remember moving to this small town the moment you turned eighteen, the rumors of the paranormal town beckoning you to help. With potions and incantations by your side, you were the best damn thing this place had ever gotten. But that was six years ago, and you were young and naive. The scars and burns that riddled your body only served to prove your progress, marking your place in this town permanently.

You sighed, your grip on your steering wheel weak. You were, after all, the only help these people had. Late night calls like this were beginning to become much too common recently, leading you to wonder if something, or someone, new was beginning to pester this poor town.

You arrived at the house, the thunderstorm only helping to provide a stereotypical atmosphere for you to work in. You got out your car, pulling your coat tightly against your body, the wind around you strong enough to hinder your footsteps.

The two story home before you rattled in protest, the front door swinging open the moment you got close enough. You felt your heart begin to race, beginning to question if this was truly worth it. It seems that whatever had been pestering the homeowner was no small ghost. Walking inside, you were met with the dark and empty home, the hardwood floor beneath you creaking in protest as you carefully walked around, the house seemingly calming the moment you entered.

You breathed in slowly, attempting to steady your mind as you surveyed the house, recalling what the homeowner told you before hanging up. This had been going on for a while, but it seems that it only recently became too much for them. Whatever was in this home really liked the attention.

Before you were able to take another step forward, you were thrown off your feet, slamming into the wall to your left, the many picture frames and decorations falling before you with a loud crash. The door slammed shut, and you covered your head, bracing yourself as you felt the glass shards begin to be directed towards you.

It’s here, and it’s angry.

Just as the chaos around you finally dulled down, you were met with the sight of the trophy shelf in front of you beginning to shake, your eyes widening as you began to run. You muttered a quick incantation to help shield you, the dull sounds of impact that began to pound against your shield only serving to make you run faster.

The hallway in front of you suddenly seemed never-ending, it’s violet wallpaper becoming harder to see the more you ran. Was the house layout always like this? The hallway suddenly ended, leading you to an open room, quickly recognizing it as the living room. The lights suddenly flickered on, disturbing your concentration as you noticed a shadow walk past one of the doorways.

Seemingly knowing you perfectly, the spirit took this small wavering to throw a book in your direction, narrowly missing your face as you ducked to the side, only to get knocked to your knees as you felt a kick to your back, your disturbed concentration causing your spell to be broken.

You turned around in a haste, summoning your shield once more as you unsheathed the knife you had in your coat pockets.

“Show yourself!” You barked out, standing up as you surveyed the room. “I know you’re here.”

Silence.

The howling wind outside stopped, the flickering lights suddenly still at the sound of your voice. You gripped the handle of the knife harder, trying to not let the exhaustion seep into you. The lights began to slowly dim, a lit ember flickering in front of you, only to be followed by many more, swirling into a raging fire directly in front of you. You jumped back at the heat, the familiar sight making you frown in anticipation.

“You look tired,” the voice said, as smooth and elegant as you first remembered it, “Maybe I could fix that.”

Standing in front of you was no other than Yeonjun. Clad in black, his dark eyes stared into yours as he towered over you, his platform boots shining underneath the dull lights, his hair slicked back and pushed away from his face save for a few strands that hung to frame his face.

“Yeonjun.” You said, a feeling of anger stirring inside you the longer you stared at him

“It’s so nice to hear my name come from you again,” he sighed, taking a step toward you, only for you to step back in retaliation.

Yeonjun was none other than the first demon you tried to expel when you first came here. You had fought with every single potion and spell you spent years perfecting, only to leave hospitalized and unsure that he would return. However, as the years passed and no sign of him appeared, you had assumed that you had succeeded in your battle against him, any signs of hauntings or poltergeists disappearing after that day.

“You,” you snapped, everything finally piecing everything together. “You’re behind everything that’s been happening recently, aren’t you?” You took another step back as he began to laugh, throwing his head back as if you had just told him the funniest thing in the world. Slowly, he calmed himself down, his eyes playful as he took his sweet time responding to you.

“Maybe, why?” He said, beginning to walk towards you slowly. You held your ground, concentrating on keeping your shield steady, they grip on your knife tightening. He stopped centimeters away from it, the aura of the shield humming as his clothes grazed the perimeter, shocks emitting on impact.

“I missed you, you know,” He muttered, head leaning towards you teasingly as he stood just far enough to not be blasted away from your shield. “It wasn’t fun hopping from town to town, trying to mess with other witches that resided there. They were just too…”

“Weak.”

You were barely given a moment before the sight of Yeonjun’s bright eyes filled your vision, the feeling of a scorching heat overtaking your senses.

Yeonjun had trapped you in a ring of fire.

A pretty small one, too.

Slightly panicked, you looked around for any place you could escape, the memories of the last time you got so close to Yeonjun warning you to get as far from him as you could, only to find that it was just you and him, trapped in a space that wouldn’t even allow you to shift backwards.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his voice taunting as he waited for your next move, “Claustrophobic?”

The weapon in your hand began to heat up, your mind working its hardest to form a plan that would work and let you come out alive. You already knew what this fire around you would do; It wasn’t a simple flame, and the scar on your chest that throbbed painfully in this demonic presence was enough proof of that.

The moment you had healed from your first encounter with Yeonjun, you had put all of the knowledge you had acquired from experience and older, more experienced witches into putting a weapon that would help you with violent demonic problems like him. It had taken you weeks of pure isolation and meditation to engrave the correct energy into the weapon, afraid to make any mistake that could lead to something drastic. By the time you were finished putting the last few touches on the weapon, (a protective incation; the words engraving themselves in fine print letter by letter as you poured the last of your energy into it,) you could barely stand, landing yourself at the house of a medic that specialized with witches.

“You’re lucky that you managed to come out of this with just drained energy,” He had told you one day, standing next to your cot and handing you a homemade medicine; its taste was horrendous, but it did the job.

“I’ve dealt with witches, succeeding or not, that had come out in a much worse condition. You’re very powerful, that much I can tell.” He confessed, his face sobering as he remembered why it was that you were there, “Whatever it is that you’re dealing with, I wish you luck.”

And now here you stand, the results of all your hard work and patience vibrating the more you concentrate on defeating the demon in front of you.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to try and hurt me with that,” Yeonjun laughed, watching the way your grip tightened the moment he landed his eyes on it, your knuckles turning white with the force, “You know your little knife can’t hurt me, right?”

While it was true that regular knives were nothing more but toys to him, you knew that what you were holding was not a regular knife.

But he didn’t.

You remained silent as you stared at him, quirking a brow to silently challenge him. He scoffed, rolling his eyes at your demeanor.

“Giving me the silent treatment now?” He said, pausing for a moment before looking back at you, “Fine. You think you can hurt me with that little kitchen knife?” With a single movement of his hands, the fire dwindled, going down until it was no more,

“Go ahead. Give it your best shot.”

You suppressed a smile.

Yeonjun was a lot of things. Strong, powerful, smart, hell, he was a bit attractive too.

But above all, he was cocky.

Slowly, and as subtly as you could, you adjusted your stance, your eyes never leaving his, ready to let your shield down to attack him.

“No games?”

His lips quirked up, his hands coming up to his sides to show you his full vulnerability.

“Fair and square. Here, I’ll even let you make the first move.” His pitch black eyes twinkled with his signature playfulness, his thoughts displaying to you loud and clear;

I thought you were smarter than this.

You fought the urge to scoff, and instead surveyed him for a moment, stepping back to give yourself a bit more room. He watched intently, his body language open and relaxed, clearly not threatened by you.

You lunged forward.

Before Yeonjun could move away, you swung your knife towards him, your stomach sinking as you missed your target, his neck, and sliced at his face instead. His head turned to the side, a hiss emitting from him as he turned back to you, the slash on his cheek burning into his skin, going deeper into his face as he began to bleed.

Except that wasn’t blood that came out of his face.

A thin liquid, pure black and mixed with the poison of your blade, trickled down his face. Slowly, he brought up a hand to his cheek, touching tentatively at his wound, observing the black substance that poured out of him, before turning back to you.

“Come on, you little vixen,” he groaned, the nickname that he called you from your first meeting rolling off his tongue smoothly, “Not the face!”

Cocky bastard.

But now that your first move was over, Yeonjun took a minute to crack his neck, the black liquid trailing down to his neck as he slowly rolled his head back, pausing for a second before straightening up, smiling at you sweetly.

“My turn.”

Right as you were going to activate your shield once more, Yeonjun ran to you, landing a solid punch to your stomach, sending you flying to the wall behind you, the wind being knocked out of you on impact as you crumbled to the floor. Looking up, you saw him lunge at you once more, mumbling your incantation for your shield, successfully knocking him back at the last second. Tumbling backward, Yeonjun layed on the floor as you slowly got back up, using the wall behind you as support, the wild and unhinged sound of Yeonjun’s laugh echoing off the walls.

“Oh, my little vixen,” he began, sitting up as he watched you regain your composure. “I missed this. I must admit, you have gotten stronger.” Standing back up slowly, you felt the room slowly heat up. You shifted, knowing what it was that he was about to do next.

“It’s exciting.”

Running towards him, you did your best to avoid the trail of fire that was now after you, ready to swing your knife at him as you got closer. Just as you were close enough to him, you swung towards his neck once more, the predictable movement allowing Yeonjun to step aside, only to get a kick to his chest, successfully knocking him down and allowing you to dive down, the fire that was about to pierce the center of your back flying instead to the wall in front of you, the loud boom barely covering Yeonjun’s scream as you dug your knife into his shoulder.

“Fuck!”

You towered over him, straddling his waist and putting as much weight as you could to keep him down. His hands immediately reached up to clasp over yours, attempting to pull the weapon out, only to have you retaliate by digging it into his skin more, his cursing filling up your ears as he struggled against you.

Your jaw clenched and you felt yourself begin to sweat, the same ring of fire from before beginning to enclose around you slowly with no signs of stopping. Your hands began to burn underneath Yeonjun’s touch, obviously his doing as he seemed to concentrate on attempting to scare you off with the same fire that landed you on the brink of death from your first encounter.

But you refused.

You refused to allow the demon to live any longer, to continue to terrorize innocent and defenseless people in your town, or in this world at all. And now that you had him under your grip, your hands struggling to successfully behead him, you weren’t going to let a little bit of pain scare you away.

Your hands began to numb under the heat of his skin, popping noises emitting from under his iron grip. He was attempting to break your hands, to render them useless, but with the adrenaline coursing through your veins, you pushed on, biting back your own groans of pain and trying to concentrate on your current task, and nothing else.

“Come on my vixen, give it up,” he said, his voice laced with pain and false confidence that he attempted to use in order to make you believe that he remained unaffected. But as your knife inched towards his neck, piercing through his skin and emitting a loud sizzling sound, you knew that it was all a bluff by the way he winced, a low grunt of pain escaping him.

“I really don’t want to hurt you, you know,” he confessed, the ring of fire snapping angrily at your legs, the heat making you want to faint from overexertion. But you continued to push on, much to Yeonjun’s annoyance. “Fine, you asked for it.”

He screwed his eyes shut, the ring of fire slightly calming down, along with his iron grip on your hands. Just as you were about to take this chance and behead him, you felt something coming.

You turned around.

A ball of pitch black fire, resembling a pure void, flew towards you.

It all happened so fast. Throwing you off of him, Yeonjun staggered away from you, watching silently as the void of black washed over you, your screams of agony causing him to look away, the slightest bit of pity washing over him.

This was it, wasn’t it?

You couldn’t move as this void of fire washed over you, a feeling as though every bone in your body was being broken and you were being turned inside out coarsed through your system, your screams ripping through your throat, the wish for death appearing in your heart.

But right as you felt as though you were going to black out, it stopped.

And Yeonjun stood over you.

He watched as you lay there, completely paralyzed with pain. It took a bit before you began to breathe again, your chest barely rising, the air flowing into you causing you pain. Slowly, you opened your eyes, Yeonjun’s face inches from yours, the dark liquid from his wounds dripping onto you.

“I almost feel sorry,” he whispered, his lips grazing yours. You tried to hold on, to finish your job, but the very effort of having to breathe exhausted you beyond belief. Slowly, he pressed his lips to yours, the kiss more of a half hearted apology as he lingered there for a second, his lips still against yours. His mind reeled at the feeling, and he pulled away, a soft smile on his face as he slowly brought his hand down, hesitating before caressing your exhausted face slowly, spreading his own blood on your face.

He grinned.

“I look forward to our next battle.”

And he was gone.

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you collapsed.

[perpetual-help]

If I might ask, how did you return to Holy Mother Church?

Well, the short answer would be by the graces won for me by The Blessed Mother. I owe everything to her intercession.

I was a cradle Catholic who fell away from the Church during my later teenage years. I abandoned God out of anger and also out of a growing curiosity in the occult. I studied and practiced (and eventually mentored in) witchcraft for about six years. Towards the end of the six years, my pursuits into witchcraft grew darker and more sinister. To give you an example of the mindset I was spiraling towards - back then, I was becoming more acquainted with groups who condoned human sacrifice / cannibalistic rituals / cursing for the pleasure of causing chaos and misery / knowingly working with demons. I thank God that I was spared from going any further in these groups than simply learning what they do or what they encourage to be done through text, and nothing more.

I met someone I will call “H” through a mutual friend (in person.) My first impression of H wasn’t a very good one, given that I could tell from our first interaction that H was a Christian. Back then, I could differentiate between Christians and non-Christians by the feeling of the air that would surround them, and if I found them to be Christian, there would be an immediate swelling of hatred towards them. I had a tarot reading done for H and I to see whether it would be worthwhile to humor a friendship with a Christian, and the person who gave the reading claimed that H and I were actually soulmates. I took this seriously and decided that, since H and I were apparently connected in such a way, I had to make an effort towards H’s wellbeing, even if it never led to anything romantic. H attended a small Pentecostal church that would post its service online, and I would occasionally watch some of the sermons in order to mock and laugh at the ridiculousness of it. They would “speak in tongues,” give “words” to people, run around in “the spirit,” and do other things that I found stupid but thoroughly amusing. My interest was especially piqued by the idea of “speaking in tongues” - because, when some of them would “speak in tongues,” I could understand what they were saying. (More on my present thoughts about this later)

H suffered from depression, which I considered a blight to the both of us, given that we were allegedly soulmates. One Sunday, H said they did not want to go to church because of the depression, and so I offered to go with them, knowing that they would leap at the opportunity to drag a heathen to church. On my way to the church, the voices I recognized as my “spirit guides” at the time were leaving me with strong internal impressions such as: “He is going to say that your chains are breaking, ignore him.” And “he is going to single you out, don’t fall for it.” My answer to these impressions was “fine.”

When I entered the Church, I felt an immediate repulsion. People were dancing and singing pop worship songs, and I internally questioned why I had chosen to do this. Sure enough, the pastor did single me out. Most of what he said to me could be attributed to cold reading, but it was entertaining. I was told “Your chains are breaking. You wear your past bad relationship like a scarlet letter on your forehead.” and “You’re going to meet a Godly man and your relationship will be like out of movie. When you do, cling to him.” I’m not sure how to describe some of the sensations I felt during parts of the service. At times, I felt like my skin was crawling, or like my skin was burning, and other times as though my throat were closing and I was being choked. I initially brushed these feelings off and tried to convince myself that it was social anxiety, but that experience lingered with me even after the service. H and I talked a lot after church, mostly about the Bible and different parts in the scripture. I had a lot of questions and H was kind enough to offer loving and well-thought-out answers. I went home and cried, and it was the first time I had properly cried in several years. I wasn’t sure why I cried at first, but the day’s events recurred in my mind’s eye and I recalled how horrible I’d felt while people worshipped around me. At that moment, I genuinely wanted to know the truth - I wanted to know whether God was real. And, if He was real, I wanted to know whether He would help me. So, I prayed. I asked God this: “If you are real, please touch my heart so that I know.” Immediately, I enveloped by this warmth and peace, and something I can only think to describe as perfect love and tranquility. My heart felt this so intensely that it seemed to be overflowing in and through me, and I wept. I only then was able to realize how absolutely miserable and exhausted and anxious and depressed and wrathful I had been for so long. I wept, and I promised to give myself entirely to God. In return, I asked Him to help me to become a servant pleasing to Him - to love Him more, always. The demons I once considered my “spiritual guides” and “deities” showed their true colors after this experience. I would say, for the first year of my conversion, I was tormented a lot in different ways - but especially in my dreams, and by feelings of intense anxiety and despair that would be thrown upon me out of nowhere and that coupled with the sensation that the walls were closing in. The voices and impressions I once recognized as “friends” started to say things like “you can’t be saved, you’ve already given yourself to us.” among other lies. These torments continue today, and in other ways, but they aren’t as constant as they were towards the beginning.

I threw away six years worth of junk I had acquired which left my room essentially empty, but it was a liberating feeling. I started to attend the Pentecostal church, but my time there didn’t last. They hosted a woman who called herself a prophetess who spoke in tongues, but what she would say would be blasphemies. People would shout “amen” and “alleluia” to these utterances, and I began to understand that this group didn’t know how to discern the spirit. The breaking point for me was when the pastor claimed that Jesus had to learn how to perform miracles - that, and, the glaringly obvious inconsistencies between his sermons and scripture. There was an unhealthy focus on titles of ministries and “what God can do for your health and wealth.”

I lasted three months at that church before it clicked in my head that the Catholics were right. This, was also in part due to my rediscovery of the Bible verses that referred to Jesus’ command to eat His flesh and drink His blood, and a dream that followed. So, I went to confession for the first time in probably 8 or more years. It was a frightening experience and I cried during the entire confession like the wimp I am, but the liberation I felt afterwards far outweighed it all. A couple of days after my confession, I attended Mass with my mother. During the Transubstantiation, while the Priest held up The Body and Blood of Our Lord, I smelled a strong incense. I only noticed the smell because I normally disliked Church incense for how strong it is, but this one, while it was strong and impossible to ignore, it was the most beautiful smell I’ve ever encountered. (There was more crying) After Mass, I asked my mom whether she knew what kind of incense they used, and she deadpanned “They didn’t burn incense.”

Now that I have had more time to process the beginnings of my conversion and especially my encounters at the Pentecostal church, I am of the impression that I was able to understand their “tongues” because it was demons speaking through them. I’m aware that there’s a Charismatic Movement of Catholics who also claim to speak “in the tongues” but I am always wary of such claims, and I avoid such practices like the plague.

God is so merciful and so loving, and my entire life is a testament to this. I did nothing but offend Our Lord and hate all things good and Holy, but still, He called out to me and saved me from the miserable state of death I hadn’t realized I was in. All Glory to God.

As St. Germanus of Constantinople said: ”There is no one, O Most Holy Mary, who can know God except through thee; no one who can be saved or redeemed but through thee, O Mother of God; no one who can be delivered from dangers but through thee, O Virgin Mother; no one who obtains mercy but through thee, O Filled-With-All-Grace!”

For this reason, I also attribute these great graces given to me by the intercession of Our Blessed Mother, and I owe her nothing less than my life in return for this favor she has shown me.

I hope my answer has satisfied the question without being too tedious.

God bless you, and keep you.

[lovethisletters]

Devilish nights || A fantastic 3 one-shot!

I love this idea ngl, I love the dynamic between the three of them! And I tried to do them justice here but... there's definitely a Whole ass ranch for improvement... :C

also Diavolo is Mexa xd

Summary: the fantastic three go to a concert but things don't go as planned.

Additional notes: I was going to make this a comic but decided against it since it was gonna take me much more time to finish it, but perhaps I'll do it as a small follow up to this one-shot.

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There's a reason why the Demon elite are very protective of their private life...you see: everyone has a side of their personality only the ones closest to us are allowed to see and for the demon prince, the avatar of pride and the loyal butler this is no exception.

—Uhhh?!?! You're going out?!!—all 6 brothers questioned in surprise.

—Yes, and I hope that when I arrive, the house is not a mess!— Replied the avatar of pride as he placed a distinctive blue coat over his shoulders.

—Ehhh? Are you going on vacation to the human realm, Lucifer ?! And without me ?! How cruel!—Asmodeus inquired dramatically, hugging his older brother's arm like a child begging his mother to go out and play.

The black-haired demon was unfazed by the avatar of lust childish demeanor, released himself from his grasp with ease and continued with his speech.

—Diavolo has important matters to resolve in the human realm and he needs me and Barbatos to support him, it is not a vacation.—

—I hope all of you behave in my absence; Satan, you're in charge, ”Lucifer declared.

-What?!?! Satan in charge ?! - the rest complained.

—As much as it bothers me to admit it… Satan is the most responsible among you — Lucifer looked at the blonde demon in the eyes — I'm counting on you — and the avatar of pride came out hurriedly before he could even hear the answer of the fourth brother.

—Don't— whispered the avatar of wrath as his lips settled into a sinister smile at the plan that was being formulated in his head.

[…]

—Ahhh ~ finally it's THE day! I can't wait any longer !!!— upon hearing the title "prince of hell" we could normally assume that the person bearing it is someone intimidating, ruthless and rude; but there he was ... the heir to the throne of the Devildom jumping all over the place with immeasurable enthusiasm, glow sticks in each hand and a white shirt with the image of a sun with the face of Luis Miguel on the chest.

—Diavolo, I'd appreciate it if you could calm down a bit.

—Calm down?! Lucifer! I have been waiting for this for years! I will finally be able to be at a concert of my favorite singer from the human realm! Do you have any idea how much I struggled to get these tickets?!?! I had to do it the human way! line and everything!—The redhead claimed at the lack of enthusiasm from his best friend.

—His majesty stopped time and he moved a couple of old ladies to be able to acquire the tickets in the front row; it would be appreciated if you showed a bit of enthusiasm, Lucifer.—Barbatos finally spoke, the same formal and cold smile always etched on his face to which Lucifer could only replay in the same way.

—Oh! I won't let you two ruin my night with your formalities! At least pretend you're as excited as I am!—Diavolo begged but his stoic companions could only mutter a mocking “yeeei”as they waved their respective glow sticks reluctantly and the prince of hell could only roll his eyes.

[…]

Mistakes happen, they happen when we least expect them and even worse; at too inconvenient moments.

—Quick, Lucifer, we're next!— The tallest of the 3 hurried, still jumping up and down.

—Give me a second — The black-haired demon searched in his pockets for the tickets that Diavolo had asked him to keep until the day of the concert because he was afraid of losing them among all the paperwork that week and knowing the responsible nature of his friend he entrusted them to him .

The thing is ... Lucifer could not find the tickets ... and when he realized this, with all the tranquility of the world: he cleared his throat, clasped his hands and positioned himself firmly like a teacher about to explain something to a child .

—Diavolo, in terms of tickets… I forgot the ttickets— At first the prince of hell gave his friend an incredulous look and even proceeded to laugh.

—Sure, stop playing games, Lucifer— the redhead expected a laugh from his friend followed by him handing over the tickets, but that gesture never came.

—Your Majesty I think Lucifer is not joking— Barbatos corrected

And oh my god, have you ever seen a child's face when you take a toy that he just can’t have out of his hands? And then the endless crying begins? Yes, at that moment the heir to the throne of hell simply bursted in tears.

—It’s Okay, your majesty, everything is going to be fine— The butler tried to calm him down by patting him on the back.

—Diavolo, I can buy others, don't worry— But the redhead only limited himself to pointing at the sign above the theater entrance "Sold out" was written in large letters.

—Well… I guess I owe you the next concert, how about we go to your favorite restaurant, hmm? My treat — Despite his offer, his friend only let out a sigh of despair and helplessness.

—You have no idea where you left them?

—Ummm… I guess in my office…

—Tell your brothers to bring them to you! Please!!— Lucifer was quick to dial Satan's number, because by the way things were he would not be surprised if Diavolo's despair at this moment led him to pray.

By pure chance, Lucifer noticed that he had several unanswered messages and calls from one of the angels: Simeon

—You can't reach them?—the prince questioned

Lucifer just stood there, glaring at his phone with a mixture of regret and anger.

"Damm you Simeon" was all that came to mind.

—Oh? Aren't those Solomon, Simeon and Luke?—Barbatos voice interrupted his thoughts.

And sure enough, there at the entrance of the theatre were the inhabitants of purgatory hall, dressed in human world clothing, waiting in line, the youngest of the group with tickets in hand.

—Oh!? I didn't knew they had bought tickets for this!

—They didn't

—How do you know?

—Because those are YOUR tickets!

—What?!?!—Diavolo's confused expression was quickly met with Lucifer's phone right in front of his face, showing him the text messages.

—I'll go get them—but before the avatar of pride could take another step towards the purgatory hall group, Barbatos hand stopped him in his tracks.

—Your Majesty, I believe Luke's birthday is just in a few days and he seems to be enjoying himself, why don't we let them keep the tickets?—the butler suggested politely.

It took a couple of seconds for the prince of hell tho make his desicion, but the smile on the small angel face made all trace of doubt dissipate, and with a heavy sigh he finally spoke.

— leat it be, Lucifer...

—...are you sure of it, Diavolo?

—yes, perhaps next year we'll go together...all of us, right?

Lucifer was surprised but with a small smile forming on his face he said yes.

—Now... who's hungry?! We should go to the fanciest place in town, after all, It's Lucifer's treat!—the prince joked

—Perhaps the restaurant we attended last year would be fine, your Majesty?

—Ah yes! That would do!

And while Lucifer's wallet had started regretting his desicions, he was happy he could spend this evening with his dearest friends.

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I was going to put a drawing of the fantastic three hanging out but I only did Diavolo bc while I was finishing Barbatos and Lucifer my computer crashed and didn't save anything :c

So here's a Diavolo in front of bellas artes to compensate:

If you find any grammatical errors let me know! I'm trying to improve my english and that would help me so so much!

I will forever thank you if you go check out my other profile: @aileysmirnov  where I post things about my OC: edits, one-shots, imagines, art, etc. If you like Greek mythology and the bat family maybe you would get to be as fond of her as much as I am!

Anyway, thank you for reading!

[kaeyas-beloved]

Be You {Leviathan x Reader}

Leviathan x Reader (They/Them) || Obey Me!

Warning(s): None (Well, actually I make Levi bully Mammon for less than a paragraph)

Note: This was a request I received from someone on Wattpad!

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Finally, Leviathan’s done it. It’s been a long three days, hours upon hours having been poured into this playthrough. 

“Woop woop! Aren’t I the best!” he praised himself, smiling wide. He’s skipped meals, pushed assignments to a later date and avoided any outside interactions to finish this game. His sight may be blurry and his limbs numb but if those were the sacrifices he had to make to go full completionist then it was all worth it. Now, time to celebrate a well deserved win.

“I think this calls for some of Ruri-chan’s celebratory season 3 limited edition candy and-!”

A chorus of knocks on his door immediately snuffed out his joy. Levi scowled, turning to glare at his door from his chair, it’s gotta be Mammon. The third born is absolutely positive that it’s his scummy older brother - it always is - back yet again to mooch more money off him for a trip to the casino. The usual slander he and his brothers would throw at the second born was on the tip of his tongue, ready to fire at will. 

“Hey Levi? You there? It’s me....”

A voice that definitely doesn’t belong to the second born piping up and Levi, halfway through spouting the first syllable, shuts up all together. That’s his normie. A weight presses on his heart: he was just about to yell and insult his Henry… 

Clearing his throat in hopes of gaining some kind of composure (all previous anger having diminished) the usual “What’s the password?” came out in a stutter. The demon was only acutely aware of his heart beat. How it skipped periodically. How it raced like he himself just ran a marathon. Levi waits a moment for the human to finish reciting the TSL excerpt. His hands begin to shake, his palms exuding profuse amounts of sweat. Gah! Why was he so nervous? Yeah, he’s aware that he’s just some gross shut-in otaku but he shouldn’t be this anxious! It’s not like this is the first time the exchange student has hung out in his room... alone... with him…

“Yo Levi?”

“Yes MC?”

“You think you could open the door now? Please?” Snapped back to reality, Levi hastily opened the door, finding himself regretting it soon after.

“I, uh, MC? What do you…?” his voice trailed off, orange gradient eyes locked on their garments. Immediately he sputtered, taking a step back. A bright scarlet coated his pale cheeks. Levi tried to hide it with his hand, though it was proven useless. The sea demon's at a toss up; should he screech? Slam the door shut? Combust all together!? At the rate he’s going, number three is looking pretty probable.

On the other end of this exchange, the human stood almost timidly out in the hall, fingers fiddling with one another while their eyes darted anywhere but at the man in front of them. The words of the fifth born rang in their ears:

“You absolutely have to wear this dear! My brother would surely fall head over heels for you, even more so than he already is!”

Oh whyyyyy did they trust him? Cause he had knowledge in fashion and love? Yeah, that was it. Still, if this turns south Asmo is going to get a lecture worse than any Lucifer could ever give… Damn, they really should’ve never let the lust demon shoo them into his private bathroom and make them change into this girly outfit. 

And it hit them all at once: Levi doesn’t like it, what they’re wearing. What if he never talks to them after this? Maybe if they leave now then there will still be a chance they can forget about this.

Time went on slowly, like people who walk through mud are, and MC just about tuck tail and ran, what they had planned and gained courage for be damned. 

Levi had other plans though. 

Only now registering that the two were standing out in the open for all to see, in a blind and desperate attempt to save himself and the human from embarrassment, the third born latched onto their wrist, yanking them into the safety of his room. Unfortunately, demon strength is a funny thing and Levi had handled them with more force than he meant to, the human crashing into his chest - hard. 

Perhaps it was instinct -- a need to protect the fragile being within his grasp -- but the demon's arm found purchase around their form, pulling them almost impossibly closer as they tipped. The pair, balance long gone, toppled over, landing with a thud.

Somehow, just like in all the romance anime he’s watched, Levi found himself hovering over them, arms propped on either side of their head. Their noses brushed, both staring frozen into each other's eyes. It wasn’t everyday that either of them were this close to one another, the exception being when the duo falls asleep playing video games. God, with this kind of proximity he was sure that the normie could hear how fast his meek heart was pounding. If this went on any longer he might actually die.

“Levi?” They whispered, their voice so quiet that he almost missed the call of his name. He however did catch their whisper and tensed up before coming back to the here and now, catching sight of the ‘what’ that led to their current position. Standing, Levi’s face burned hotter than ever before.

‘It was all because of them,’ he thought, turning away turning away with tense shoulders as he still tries to mask the red that licked all the way up to his ears. ‘It’s always their fault when I start to feel like I do now!’

“S-stupid n-normie! Why are you even wearing that?” he asked, chancing a glance over his shoulder. Levi did have to admit… they looked kinda cute in those clothes… and it looked like something Ruri-chan would wear too… 

Gah! No no no focus Levi!

The ‘normie’ didn’t answer right away, instead raising to their feet and opting to grab a bag from beside the door. That wasn’t there before. 

“Asmo…” they sighed, turning back to face the demon, nervousness swirling within them. Now or never, “Asmo said you’d like it if I wore something like this” So this is Asmo’s doing? Damn him… “Anyway, here, take it.”

“Wha-?” A shimmering gift bag the same colour of the water Henry his goldfish swam in was thrust into his hands, whatever he was about to say dying in his throat. 

A present? For him? Oh why must a no good otaku like him have to go through such an intimate endeavor???? He just can’t take it! 

Then again, this was like that one scene from season 2 ep. 22 of this anime he binged: I Forget Important Dates all the time which causes me to get into really awkward situations. This time I forgot about my Birthday and my Crush handed me a bag before confessing their love for me!

So-! Spurred on by fictional characters and MC’s urging “go on, open it”, Levi tore the tape, presented with his spontaneous gift: a popular multiplayer game from the human world; one near impossible to get in Devildom.

“WHAOOO!” MC couldn’t help but think how much he’s acting like a kid on Christmas, the notion cute in their opinion. The human stood still for a couple minutes, allowing their friend to rant and gush over the game (and how cool they were for even acquiring it).

“But…” the purple haired demon calmed down, “why did you suddenly give me this?” What? Did he not know what today was?

“It’s… it is your birthday isn’t it!?” Don’t tell them Asmo lied to them about Levi’s birthday!

Levi pulled out his phone, his eyes widening to the size of saucers, “No, it is my birthday,” he assured. With all the gaming he was doing he must've failed to noticed, which is strange considering the last time his special day drew near he practically counted down the days. 

“MC.” He got their attention, looking them right in the eye, his words and actions portraying a sureness and sincerity, “Thank you and…” As quick as lightning strikes the ground, the human had themselves pulled flush against Levi once more, his head resting on their shoulder and nose buried in the crook of their neck. His hair, so soft and fluffy, left a ticklish sensation on their skin.

“And about what you said before. With Asmo. I do like what you’re wearing but…” he tightens his hold, “I like you just the way you are. I know you don’t usually dress like this and I want nothing more than for you to be comfortable, like how you make me. If that means dressing tomboy-ish then so be it. I want you to be you: the human only you can be: my Henry.” 

“I’m glad you feel that way…” They smiled, arms wrapping around his torso. They hope their gratitude is able to shine through in the hug, “Now, ya wanna play your new game?”

“Yes!” He smiled, pulling back and raising his hand. They return the grin, suppressing a chuckle seeing as the demon reminded them of the YES demoji. “Oh, but um! Would you like to change first? It’s not that I don’t like seeing you dressed like that or anything but like I said I want you to be comfortable but also I don’t think my heart can take it anymore… wait that’s not what I meant!” That made them chuckle though.

“Do I have to?” They teased, enjoying the reaction they got out of the third born. Levi gulped, ducking his head while whispering a small no. “Then maybe I’ll stay like this a little longer. It is your birthday after all.” Tugging the envy demon towards their usual gaming spot they let Levi set up the game before the two plopped down in their spots.

“Oh and Levi?” He hummed, tilting his head, the light of the screen illuminating the side of his face. They hugged him once more, “Happy Birthday”

-------------------

[Masterlist]

Thank you for reading!

[its-kall-the-clown]

From promt list 9#, red son and mk, "you can't just stay in bed all day", and " hold me a little longer"

*Gets my little angsty clown hands allllll over this.* yessssss.

As some contexts this is pre-relationship but you can just FEEL the attraction and sexual tension so it counts as spicynoodle. Enjoy!

prompt list

Hold Me

Rating: PG

“You can't just stay in bed all day.” MK rolls his eyes and the hiss that comes from under the blanket.

The blanket from HIS bed mind you.

He suddenly understands where Pigsy was coming from when he yanked the covers off his sleeping form back in middle school to wake him up for the day.

Red Son had...well, the best word for it defected from his parents. And now he was no longer welcome in his home and his parents were out for blood.

Thankfully Wukong was easily convinced to help and with Red Son officially under the great sage's protection it makes Princess Iron Fan and the Demon Bull King think twice before attacking their now disowned son.

But that didn't mean it didn't go down in a fight first. The demon bull king vs the monkey king and poor Red Son caught in the middle.

Red Son was disowned in the worst way possible.

"Useless son!! I wish you never were born!"

MK was there. Standing right next to Red Son. But even from a mile away you could hear the boy's heart-shattering under the impact of the words.

Red Son was the one to sever the final thread connecting them. Shouting how he was no longer their son, eyes pouring blue flames as he attacked his father and mother.

It took both Wukong, MK and Pigsy to pull Red Son off of them.

MK had never seen Red Son like that. Sure he had his more feral moments. But what he witnessed was truly terrifying. He was out for blood and only when MK had his arms around the demon's form and the flames were starting to burn him did Red Son stop.

His anger and rage melted into apologies and hiccuped sobs as his hands fretted over MK's injuries.

Red Son left with them that day and Red was making good use of his newly acquired freedom.

By sulking about it.

MK pokes the lump under his blanket in his bed and it hisses again in a warning. Like a cornered cat that had zero intentions of actually hurting MK.

“Come on dude. You're gonna starve eventually if you don't come out. Pigsy made you some noodles, extra spicy.” he tries to tempt the demon with the promise of food but even that only gains him another low rumbled growl.

MK breathes in through his nose and lets it out through his mouth, trying his best to not let Red Son’s attitude affect him. He needed to grant them more sympathy. Red Son lost the only family he ever had and was now trying to navigate this new one that accepted him with open arms.

He set the noodle bowl down onto the side table with a sigh and sat on the edge of the bed, it dipped under his weight.

“Alright. If you want to stay in bed We can do that." He pulls the blanket up and he's met with scowling eyes that dilate in the light.

That was actually pretty cool. Exactly like a cat.

"Scoot over." He instructs and Red Son blinks at him dumbly. MK doesn't wait for him to protest and shoves his way into the same space, and pulls the covers over both their heads. He wraps his arms around the demon and pulls them to his chest.

"Peasant!!! What are you doing?" He sputters and MK rests his chin atop the demon's head.

"It's called cuddling. It's good when you're depressed." He explains his hand trailing down Red Son’s hair till he finds the base of his ponytail. He easily removes the hair tie and takes advantage of the loose locks.

He runs his fingers through his Red hair and they squirm under him. There is another warning rumble in the back of Red's throat but MK pays it no mind. He was all bark and no bite. He finds the longer he runs his fingers through the warm hair the more the demon relaxes in his grip.

"I do not need to be coddled..."

MK could feel claws pricking through the front of his shirt, Red son shivering and shaking in his hold. It occurs to MK that Red Son had never been held gently before. It sends a pain ricocheting in MKs chest.

He needed to fix that. He would hold Red Son gently, he would treat him like he's precious, make him feel special and loved. He would hold him and hug him and stroke his fingers through his incredibly soft hair as long as the demon needed...

...that sounded way more gay in his head than he had the brainpower to process right now.

"It's okay….no one's here to judge you." He reassures gently and suddenly the claws against his chest become so much more gentle. Red Sons' shoulders hitch.

"They were my parents…."

"I know."

"Was I not enough??!" The demon's hands twist in the front of MK's shirts and MK knows where Red is coming from. He too originally came from a family that he felt like he needed to prove something to them. To be worth something so they would keep him around.

It took him years to learn that no matter what he did he would never earn their love.

Love was shared not earned.

"It's okay, you are enough Red" he reassures and the demon’s shoulders shake and he a breath shatters into hiccuping sobs, tears cascading down his face to be absorbed by the sheets and MK's shirt.

He presses gentle kisses to the boy's forehead and lets them cry it out. Red Son deserved that. He deserved to have a good healthy cry while someone soothed you.

MK isn't sure how much time has passed but eventually, the sobbing subsides and now it's just Red Son's face shoved into his chest while he works the knots out of his hair with his fingers.

"How are you feeling?" MK asked eventually and he only felt a steamy huff against his neck. God, it's hot under the covers, that could be attributed to the fire demon but he's sure with two people in the bed it still would be pretty unbearable.

"Want me to let you go?" He asked and he felt a little head shake against him.

"you may….hold me a little longer" the words are more of felt rather than heard and MK nods understanding.

"Okay, but you're gonna have to let me pull the covers up a bit. It's stuffy under here." He feels a nod against his chest and MK pulls the covers back enough to vent the heat building under the covers.

"Much better,"

The sudden cool air makes Red Son pull out of his chest and look at him with wide eyes and

Oh.

Oh.

They had to be the damn prettiest eyes MK had ever seen.

I mean, it wasn't hard to admit that Red Son was attractive, with perfect skin, thick brows, muscles all over his body that could put marble statues to shame…

But seeing him like this?

Nothing but flushed cheeks and wild hair framed by the dying sun's light?

Gorgeous.

MK can't help but reach forward and cup the demon's face. He just needed to behold the beauty before him. Red Son goes easily into the touch, hooded lids and parted lips only making him impossibly more ethereal.

He leans forward

Who could blame MK?

He watches the hooded lids close shut.

Who could fault him?

He pressed lips tenderly together. His own eyes flutter close and he tilts the face for a better angle where their noses don't hit each other awkwardly and they just fit together like puzzle pieces.

He would hold Red Son.

As long as he needed them to.

[sometimes-love-is-enough]

re: your last ask about the time travel shenanigans—holy fuck yes please more of this. like, not only is it funny as hell, which i appreciate, but it's also a. more c!thomas and b. points to just how interestingly both the plot and characters of this series have grown over the years and i am ALL for it

"Janus!" is the first thing Thomas exclaims when he sees the Side Formerly Known Exclusively As Deceit rise up where Logan would usually stand. Which just might be a mistake, if Janus’s expression is anything to go by.

Okay, in Thomas's defence -

This is a really, really weird day, even by his standards. Because, like, Logan's currently standing in front of the stairs, and that's not where Logan's supposed to be, and his shirt and tie are all wrong. And had had been grinning. Openly. He had been openly grinning when Thomas had first woken up and looked in his wardrobe and realized that his favorite t-shirt apparently doesn't exist anymore and all his clothes are a half-size smaller than he's used to but also they still fit and - okay, no, back to Logan. He'd gone downstairs and tripped over a chair that wasn't supposed to be there and called out Logic. And he'd been about to ask him what's going on and why everything feels so off and also why Logan's standing in Virgil's usual spot instead of over to the right of the stairs. But then he'd noticed all the aforementioned Very Weird Clothing Things. And he'd stopped and said, "Uh, Logan?" and Logan's grin had dropped and he'd stared at Thomas for a full ten seconds then whispered, "what the fuck," with great emotion.

And then Patton had shown up with a ridiculous amount of pun-riddled cheerfulness that Thomas had been able to clock as sixty-percent fake within about half a second. And his clothes had been all wrong, too, and after a lot of confused, borderline-incomprehensible yelling at each other, Roman had showed up and added to the chaos.

"I am scared and confused and on the verge of completely losing it!" Thomas had declared at some point, which had been the cue for an ominous music sting somewhere to Thomas's right that made everybody jolt in terrified unison.

"Did somebody say scared and confused and on the verge of completely losing it?"

"Virgil, thank god!" Thomas had practically yelled, and just about thrown himself across the room to get to him - before pausing midway and allowing his brain to process... wrong hoodie. Wrong amount of eyeshadow. "Wait. No, hang on, is this - "

"FUCKING WHO," Virgil shrieked, leaping backwards half a flight of stairs, which had led to another round of confused yelling, with Thomas trying to assure them all that he's fine he hasn't had some sort of strange head injury or whatever, he's just really happy to see Virgil and no of course that's not weird, what do you mean who's Virgil, that's Virgil right over there, Roman please put down that sword things are already out of hand -

And at some point Thomas had got it into his head that the most reasonable course of events was to summon the one person who always seems to know everything that everybody else doesn't, which brings everything up to speed, more or less. Roman had gone, "Thomas, what are you doing," and Thomas, feeling slightly manic at this point, had said, "I'm trying to summon a demon, obviously," because the best way to get hold of a certain someone probably is blatant lying, and boom, instant Janus.

"Jeee-sus Christ on a cookie-shaped canoe, what is he doing here?!"

"Janus!"

So, Janus pops up, he looks literally the same as he always has (except maybe with shorter hair? Wait, they all have shorter hair, including Thomas, wait a second -) with his half-snake-face and his hat and gloves that cosy-looking capelet of his. And although his expression reflects faint bewilderment and that very particular 'wait, what' emotion that results in being pulled abruptly away from something you were busy with, he looks so normal that Thomas thinks for a moment he might be the only sane person left.

But then Janus makes a series of start-and-stop noises of incomprehension, and gestures wildly towards Virgil, who's crouched midway up on the stairs behind Logan, looking like a cornered wild animal, and snaps, "Why for the love of everything that's holy would you tell him my name?"

"You think this is me?" Virgil retorts, hands going up to grab desperately at the bars lining the side of the staircase. "I don't understand anything that's going on! He somehow knows my name! He's - he's being nice to me!"

It suddenly occurs to Thomas that this might just possibly be a time travel sort of thing. It would explain the clothes shift. And the altered layout of his house. And the fact that when he'd checked his phone this morning it had told him it was 2016, and also it hadn't been his phone, it had been the one he'd broken a few years ago in a tragic piano-moving-related accident.

...Okay, yeah, this is absolutely a time travel thing.

"Is somebody going to explain why Thomas ruined all of our heartfelt name reveal moments in one fell swoop?" Roman demands. "I thought we agreed we were going to do them gradually and draw them out as long as possible for dramatic effect!"

"I agreed to none of that," Virgil snaps from his position halfway up the stairs.

"Yes," says Logan, "yes, I think we all would like to know what's going on. Thomas? What's going on?"

"Uh - " Thomas, who has just come to a rather startling realization about time travel and also about how shitty his Sides' taste in costumes were pre-wardrobe change, doesn't really have a prepared answer for this. "I have... I am - I just - "

Thomas struggles for words. Really struggles. And everyone's just standing there, watching him with expressions that range from terror to confusion to suspicion, and they all look so weirdly young in a way that's hard to pin down. It's the clothes. It's probably the clothes, or maybe it's the way they hold themselves. Roman, carelessly confident, without a doubt in the world. Patton, still wearing a fixed dad-grin, politely baffled and looking back and forth. Logan, who hasn't been systematically beaten down and pushed back over the course of many, many years. Virgil, who's basically just a ball of grey-and-black anger and acerbic anger at this point. Janus, who's... Janus. Who's looking at him in a way that Janus has never looked at him before.

And Remus is probably lurking somewhere in the back of his mind, too, doing whatever Remus does, and - would Remus be any different now, four years prior? Thomas hadn't had any significant problems with intrusive thoughts, not back then... or, well, back now. Maybe he's calmer, maybe Thomas could actually talk with him. Try to work something out, try to understand.

But wait, he's still got to give the Sides right here and right now an answer.

Hm.

...Thomas has been through a lot in the past four years. Not, like, fantasy protagonist a lot, but more like a extended psychological journey of self-discovery and mental health crises. Now, he wouldn't trade any of this for the world, because he's learned a hell of a lot about himself in the process - but also? The Sides have put him through a lot of horrifying realization-type things.

Which is why he absolutely one hundred percent deserves to do what he's about to do next.

"I," says Thomas, with an extraordinary amount of confidence and self-assuredness, "am psychic."

And the dead silence holds. Now even Patton is staring at him in disbelief. Janus has graduated into outright horror, his face twisted up into a oh god no I am somehow responsible for letting him delude himself this far expression.

"Thomas!" Roman gasps, almost instantly lighting up with genuine enthusiasm. "Oh, Thomas, I'm so proud, we've been working on this for years. Tell me, does this extend to telekinesis, or just somehow knowing all our names and nothing else?"

"What?" Janus says. "What - no. No, you can't seriously be going along with this - what? That... what? That doesn't even make any sense?" He turns wildly from left to right, and - okay, it's very enjoyable to see him out of his depth, to be perfectly honest. Thomas likes Janus a lot, knows he has his best interests at heart, but the whole courtroom thing had been a major dick move. This is satisfying. "Are any of you getting this? Does anyone here understand what's going on?"

"I'm psychic," Thomas repeats doggedly. "I acquired magical psychic powers and now I know all of your names and tragic backstories. Surprise! I unlocked my full potential and the ninety-percent of my brain power that I wasn't using."

"That's - that's a widely-perpetuated and wildly incorrect myth," Logan says weakly.

"Nope. Turns out it's true, and I was only using ten percent of it, and now that I've gone full big-brain, I know that Patton's repressing all his bad feelings because he doesn't want to bother anyone with them, Virgil acts all scary and menacing because he thinks it's the only way that I'll ever listen to him, and Janus is secretly a huge dork with a heart of gold - uh, yellow, I guess."

"How dare you," Janus breathes, looking horrified.

"Wha - " Patton suddenly looks very pale indeed.

"Also, Roman, you're my hero; Logan, please never stop smiling like that ever again, it's literally my favorite thing in the world and if you ever stop being enthusiastic about teaching me things I will cry - and Virgil, I love you."

Virgil lets out a choked little noise like he's just been punched directly in the stomach.

"I love all of you," Thomas adds, an afterthought. "I never say that enough. Janus, that goes for you as well. You're right, I need to take care of myself more."

"I'm - " Janus is still looking around at everyone in complete disbelief, but now his gaze fixes onto Thomas, his eyes wide. "I'm what?"

Thomas is now on a roll. An extremely cathartic sort of roll. "And Remus -"

Everybody immediately panics. Virgil and Logan's hands both immediately leap up to clasp over their mouths, which seems to be a reflexive reaction on Janus's behalf. Patton lets out a deranged-sounding high pitched giggle that edges into genuine hysteria.

"Brother? What brother? I don't know what a brother is!" Roman says loudly. "I've never had a brother in my life! Thomas, your glorious psychic powers are malfunctioning. Have you tried turning them off and turning them on again?"

" - I'm not going to lie and say I love him, but -" Thomas stops abruptly, and staggers  backwards to catch himself on the couch as a thought strikes him out of literally nowhere. "Son of a bitch -"

"Does being psychic make you swear a lot?" Patton asks weakly. "Because, uh. Not sure I like this side of you, kiddo - "

"Logan," says Thomas. "Logan, what's the date today? This is so, so important, what's the date."

"It's... October," Logan says, very slowly. "October twentieth. 2016?"

"Holy shit," Thomas whispers, and then says it louder, "holy shit. Okay, listen. I was going to sort out all of our collective psychological issues in one impressive emotional speedrun, but I've realized we have something much more important to do." He pauses, and takes in a very deep, shuddering breath. "Guys. We can save Vine. Excuse me. I've just realized I’ve got to make a lot of calls."

[hunterartemis]

Indian Magical School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Headcanon #1: The legends of it’s foundation

I love JKR and her magical world, but she completely ignored the South Asian region and a culture diverse as India, which could have been a great background for magical population. So I took the matters in my own hands and created some headcanons like I did previously with Mahoutokoro. Hope you will appreciate it.

The legend and the history of the school is so very overlapping that it is sometimes hard to distinguish between what is truth and what is myth. However the story goes something like this.

When the First Emperor of Aryavarta (Ancient India) Daksha was given the job to bring all earthly prosperity to the world, he was assisted by Seven Sages. These Seven Sages were the seven stars of the Great Dipper Constellations, who were called: Marichi, Atri, Angira, Pulascha, Pulaha, Kratu and Vashistha. To other Interpretation, these seven sages were called, Atri, Agasthya, Bharadvaja, Bhragu, Kashyapa, Jamdagni and Gautama. These Seven sages were wise and learned an knew many supernatural powers that governs the land of man without their common knowledge. Emperor Daksha wanted to control the seven sages and therefore made relations with them by marrying off his daughters with Bhragu, Kashyap and the sons of other sages: his demand was to have their power to his disposal only. The seven sages could do nothing, as in the Law of Dakshraj, harming or betraying the Kutumba (relatives and in-laws) were considered High Treason.

But the sages being the wise and kind men they were wanted to spread the greater knowledge of supernatural powers to the common man in order to help them understand their infinite potential. So they started to sought resources from the sages who were considered “outcasts“ in Daksha’s rule for learning about the end of things (because Daksha wanted his kingdom to be eternal, these concepts were forbidden). One sage, named Dadhichi came to help the Saptarshi (the seven sages) and instructed them to journey southwards to the door of the Yama (the God of death). It was shocking enough for the sages, but one of the sage: Agasthya or in some other texts Marichi agreed to journey southwards. He bid his colleagues farewell and told them not to look for him and return to the capital; if their calling is true there would be a day they would meet again.

when the sages returned, they found themselves in a chaotic position. Daksha had insulted his youngest daughter and her husband in the front of the Royal Court and to protect her honour the youngest has self-immolated. The Husband of his youngest daughter was Shiva, the God of Destruction who was not worshipped or even mentioned in Daksha’s kingdom as something “unholy”. Although the sages did not mention Shiva in Daksha’s presence, but they knew that the Creation cannot last forever and to exist, it must always be destroyed and transformed. Thus when the sages could not convince Daksha to ask forgiveness from Shiva, they publicly renounced their special status and that of their being the Princes Consort and left the palace forever. Later Daksha was slain by the God of destruction Shiva in the crime of Pride and pushing his own flesh and blood to kill herself.

In the path away from the Capital, the Sage Agasthya appeared before the rest. The sages knew that it was not real Agasthya, but his astral projection. He did not speak but pointed towards the south, towards the deep forest surrounding a mountain that no human can cross. The sages understood that Agasthya had given his life to seek it. The sages, after thinking day and night, could think no other plan to reach the place, let alone establish a school there, because it was not ordinary mountain, but a Volcano. After great thinking, Bhragu, the master of Astrology came up with a plan and decided to summon Seven Celestial Planets and pray them to guide there. The Planets summoned were: Surya (sun), Soma (moon), Budha (Mercury), Shukra (venus), Mangal (Mars), Brihaspati (Jupiter) and Shani (Saturn).

The sages prayed for 14 lunar days and the Seven Celestial Planets were pleased with their dedication and each one promised one reward to the sages. The sages told them everything about their wish to build an establishment to teach sons of man about the infinite power of the universe, but they didn’t know how to go to the place Agasthya had instructed them to go.

After hearing everything the Sun said “I shall rise from the east, pure white on the blood smeared sky and my light shall point the way to the hallowed place.”

Then came Mars said “I shall follow the path of the sun and destroy every obstruction that stands on the way to put the standard of victory on the hallowed land I won in the name of the Sun”,

After Mars, the Moon said, “I shall call upon the sky, ask it to rain on the Volcano so that the lava solidified and creates ground for the building”,

after Moon Mercury said “I shall bring about such designs with my mind that no human has ever seen, A house that shall be marvelous and impenetrable to any ill-wisher”.

After Mercury, Venus says, “I shall give that design a habitable form, strengthen and beautify it with the igneous stones from this volcano”.

Then Jupiter said “Like my illusive body, I shall expand it to 1000 times greater, and bless it so that no occupant in this house ever experiences obstruction in learning and nourishment. And as the Eldest of the Planets, I name this house Vishakhtantra , a house where high magic spreads out like branches of holy banyan tree”

when all of the planets were done doing their jobs, everyone looked at the dark figure that lurked at the background, with a smirk in his lips. The sages asked why the last one, Saturn did not come forward and requested him to contribute. Smiling he said “illusive planets and sages, you are all brilliant but you have done wrong.” It evoked fear amongst the sages because Saturn, the God of Justice and Time is elemental to any establishment and angering him could be catastrophic. Bhragu asked Saturn’s pardon and asked him to correct them. Saturn smiled and said, “The mistake, illusive sages, was committed when you called us. You have forgotten that we are Navagraha (Nine Celestial Planets), not Seven. You have chose to ignore two and I know why. You fear that the North and South Node might Eclipse the Sun and Moon and chose to ignore them. But you have forgotten, they too have purposes and are deserving of contribution.”

This statement angered Sun and the Moon. The great luminaries decided to withdraw if Rahu (North node) and Ketu (South Node) joined, but Jupiter mediated amongst Saturn, Moon and Sun. Jupiter, the Eldest planet vowed to keep the mischievous side planets in check and implored Saturn to return. Saturn then called upon Rahu and Ketu, and a great bodiless head appeared through a storm.

Jupiter came forward and addressed Rahu and said “This hallowed house shall be the home of instruction, of sacred knowledge. We the planets and sages have summoned you to contribute and correct the unjust. Are you willing to help us?” Rahu being the cunning demon that he is, said “yes, upon one condition. I want the highest place amongst all. I am a headless body and my wishes are infinite. It is the only way I would help you all.”

Saturn knew this would happen, he smiled and said “it shall happen” to everyone’s great dismay. It hurt Sun’s pride greatly but knowing Saturn, no one could protest. Jupiter and Saturn then turned to the great headless snake that coiled the entire mountain. When Jupiter addressed it, it said “Greetings my elders, I am glad that my other body, Rahu had his position acquired. But I am most perplexed because I could feel all the pains of creatures, demonic and divine who have been displaced for the creation of this place. Their souls will not leave the place in peace.”

Saturn came forward and asked him, “oh headless body, the giver of results of past life, lord of the isolated, reside as the Vastu Naga and the Bhitti (Foundation) of the hallowed place. Upon your great coil shall the institution stand and the lives lost shall receive the result for their sacrifice.”

With the Ketu entering underground, the head of Rahu had to choice but to reside exactly at the opposite side of his other body. Saturn grabbed Rahu by the hair and said “Sun the the highest light, Jupiter is the Highest Wisdom and none in the universe, not even me can exceed their position in the universe. So reside at your highest place, on the topmost towering peak of this place. I forcibly command you so that you can eclipse every form of mal-spirit and power from above.”

With that done, Saturn returned to the final place and said “and I, Lord of limitation, time and justice, mark the boundary of this place and veil it with the Tamas, so it could be hidden from the common eye.”

The sages were eclectic after the creation. The eldest, Atri said, “heavenly presences, you are the influences that govern the actions, fates and deeds of the world, would you be so kind to reside in this place as guiding principles so that we the Acharya (teachers) and the shishya (pupils) shall prosper in their ways.” Saturn called upon the sages: “so it shall be Illusive sages but do not disregard the shadow planets, Rahu and Ketu, who represent the base and the peak of the house also have the right to represent: I deliver the choice to you.”

“Very well“, said Bhragu, master of Astrology: “Since the shadow planets are unstable on their own, I assign them to the Two Intellectuals: The Head Rahu with Mercury, and the Tail Ketu with Jupiter.“

Thus formed the Seven Sacred Houses of Sapta Kula of Vishakhtantra.

Uttarashada (Sun), Anantasoumya (Moon), Punarvasu (Jupiter and Ketu), Bhadrapada (Saturn), Yajurmitra (Venus), Ksharagam (Mars) Rahavyasa (Mercury and Rahu)

[a-tcos]

Oh my god can I ask for claude's headcanon too ? 🥺 what's about Crying Claude ? XD demon doesn't cry right, but what if he did X) ( I know this may sounds a bit ooc but lol I just want to know it )

YES OF COURSE!! Also this is a very interesting concept that I do have thoughts about, so...

Crying Claude

This sounds like an oxymoron, right? I mean... Claude never cries. Right??

Well, there’s definitely exceptions.

If Claude needed to cry out of sadness, he’s immediately going to lock himself in a room where no one can see him/come in. He finds the idea of him crying to be shameful, maybe even crying in general. It’s one thing to be smug or even occasionally show anger (which he also finds to be less than savory), but to cry? That shows weakness, and Claude is not weak. He’s a demon.

This is also why he’s prone to crying over happy things than sad things (again, this whole complex that I think he has).

There’s few things he would actually cry over. As I mentioned, they’d probably be good things; I can see him getting surprising sappy when it comes to a S/O (perhaps one of the few people who trusts and understands him). So if something good were to happen to them (ie. acquiring a child by any means, to name something that first came to mind that’s a bit extreme), he’d probably shed a happy tear or two.

Also, if an animal were to do something so cute that he couldn’t help but shed a tear. The guy certainly loves animals and I’ll tell you that for free.

If he cries, it’s only a few tears and a lot of internal emotions. He hates showing off emotions (not just because of any lingering toxic masculinity, though); the blank face we often see is a facade that keeps him focused. If he were to lash out or show his true emotions, he’d get distracted (this theory plays into his whole demise in general).

I definitely think it’s possible for him to allow a S/O to comfort him, but they have to be incredibly close with him. Claude Faustus is a mystery and he is not one that’s easily solved or even understood.

What could even send this man into bawling or hysterics? Is it possible?

Most likely, no. Perhaps a family issue (I definitely HC demons as having somwwhat difficult families at LEAST because that’s their culture) but it’s incredibly unlikely.

Overall, of course Claude is known for showing a lack of emotions but I definitely believe that he feels them and that he feels them hard. The man just doesn’t show it. He’s more likely to tell someone close to him how he’s feeling; after all, that’s only their business in his eyes.

But even if he was physically incapable of crying (which I highly doubt), his feelings would come out in other ways.

Thank you for the ask!! I really appreciate it.

[fuchsiagrasshopper]

Contending the Flame IV

Author’s Note: Hope everyone had a safe and fun Halloween! Not much else to say here as we start to delve deeper into Ivar and the Nuns new relationship and the two different worlds they come from. Thanks as always for being so awesome!

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Word Count: 2217

Warnings: Language, Master/Servant dynamic 

His brothers had kept a close eye on Ivar since acquiring his new thrall. He still played at the leader of their army, but he had refrained from shutting them out of power entirely. Any chance they had at lending a commanding voice they took. Hvitserk's strategy of giving their little brother a distraction was paying off.

The changes in Ivar's behavior were minuscule. Only Ubbe and Hvitserk took notice. It was the same when they were children when someone would give a new gift to Ivar. It would be a stretch to say he was happy, but his vengeance had quelled. For the moment it was enough, and they could focus on securing lands for their people while Ivar was preoccupied.

It was strange for a thrall not to be seen waiting over their master's every whim, but it seemed Ivar wouldn't permit you to leave his quarters. The other slaves they had acquired tended to him during meals, and when he walked the streets with his guards, you were always absent. Ubbe walked alongside Hvitserk contemplating this.

"What do you think he has her do for him?" Ubbe wondered aloud.

Hvitserk's brows puckered in thought. "Don't know. I can't imagine they have much to talk about, and I know the one thing they aren't doing."

"What do you mean?"

"C'mon, think about it," Hvitserk jested with a smirk. "I suppose that must make him a good fit for her. She'll remain a virgin after all."

Ubbe latched onto Hvitserk's arm, pulling him to a stop as he gave him a harsh look. "Those are dangerous words, brother. Remember Sigurd. I don't want to see another brother dead because of Ivar's fragile grasp of his anger. He has poor sensibilities when it comes to that matter. It's unfair, but it's not his fault."

Hvitserk shook off Ubbe's grasp and rubbed a hand at the back of his neck. "Right, that was stupid. I do pity him, though I don't think he'd want it. Who knows how he'll be when we start having families of our own."

Ubbe grunted. "He'll probably resent us, more than he does already. I think I understand why he keeps her away from everyone. Besides our mother, no one has ever taken to Ivar's company outside of obligation or familial bond. He's lonely."

"And it's not as if she can refuse," said Hvitserk. "But she's a Christian. That's got to account for some strife between them."

They continued on their way towards the center of the city. Food was beginning to run scarce, and it seemed the Saxons were holding steadfast on starving them out. While Ivar was willing to take their army to its limits to play Aethelwulf's game, Ubbe and Hvitserk were devising their own plan to negotiate land. They just needed a little more time. Many things rested in the hands of the nun, as unaware as you were.

"I just hope he hasn't harmed her," Ubbe said while they passed through the market.

Hvitserk looked grim, a heaviness settling on him that had replaced his usual cheer. "Ivar did always break toys. We have to hope that Christian isn't as weak as she looks."

ooOOoo 

You were growing accustomed to your new station. As a woman, it was your lot in life to suffer, and you took your new situation as a test from God. The heathen, Ivar, he had made no bid to harm you. That wasn't to say he was good company to keep. He had taken to trying to instruct you in a handful of words and phrases of his language. Some of the words were difficult to form with your accent, and when you mispronounced things, he would grow irritated and throw things at you. Uttering dark curses in his tongue, you were certain he had insulted you as well, but it was better than a flogging. 

At night you continued to pray, your back to your master, and the words spoken only in your head. You were sure they reached God, even without a rosary in your grasp or the piety to kneel. In your heart, you struggled to keep hope alive. If this test was to be your final judgment from God, its purpose remained clouded to you.

It was late when Ivar returned, and you had remained awake for his arrival. You now slept when he did, short and inconsistent hours of the night, only to be woken before the dawn. He did not rest well. Be it from his duties or pain you could not say, but he never faltered from exhaustion. This pattern must have been his usual routine, life at war.

Ivar's eyes sought you out the moment he came through the door, and you returned the stare. He had only just started walking in his new contraptions, a set of iron braces that he had created from pride. His determination to walk was admirable. You had never witnessed such a fighting spirit before, and you were certain it was a blessing from God.

"Something you wish to say?" Ivar interrupted your thought, a scowl on his face from your lingering gaze on his legs.

"It is a good thing," You said while rising from your corner of the floor. "I believe God has blessed you."

Ivar snorted, blue eyes rolling at your absurdity to insinuate such a thing. He took a slow seat on his pallet of furs and started to remove the braces. "Really, and why would that be?"

"You are not the first cripple I have met, but you are the most assiduous."

You could see him test out the word for himself, a lack of understanding passing over his face. "I'm not sure what that means, but I like how it sounds."

"You have an unrelenting heart. Strong-willed and resolute in your goals. I find you impressive."

He halted what he was doing, and took a long, considering look at you. "I've been this way for as long as I can remember. It is the way if I am to be seen as a true Viking to my people."

"So there are others like you?" You asked as you approached him with careful steps.

"There are not many cripples among my people, no. A child born with a deformity such as mine is left to die. I would have been if not for my mother. She was softhearted, and couldn't bear my loss."

You didn't want to have any strong sort of feelings towards your captor, but to learn that he had been left to die as a helpless babe engulfed you in sorrow. "It isn't wrong for a mother to feel pity for her child," You murmured, showing how distraught you were by such a story. "You don't sound grateful for her mercy."

Ivar's face hardened at your sentiment. "Mercy is for Christians. I would have done the same as my father. I loved my mother, but there are days I resent her for her choice. Her gifts failed to foretell the agony I would endure at the hands of compassion."

"What gifts?"

"She was a Vülva, a woman seeress of our people who has visions of the future."

You frowned at such a concept. "That sounds like sorcery to me."

"I forgot your people fear magic and witchcraft," Ivar said in a teasing tone. "My mother would have hated you. She was too steeped in the beliefs of our own people to have care about your sensitive notions of God. My father would have liked you though."

You blushed at the idea of such a great man holding you in favor. Though you didn't hail from Wessex you had heard the stories of the Viking King who fought for Mercia and befriended King Ecbert. "King Ragnar? Why do you think that?"

"He was often amused and curious about your God. Maybe you would have reminded him of Æthelstan, his Christian monk." Ivar resumed the task of taking off his braces, wincing in pain whenever a particular part pinched or pulled at his legs. "Here, come help me with this."

Startled by such a request, you moved with haste and uncertainty. Ivar showed you which parts to unclasp, and you would mimic his actions with a gentler touch, stopping entirely when he would let out any sound of discomfort. You were certainly slower at the task than if he completed it himself, but he seemed to enjoy watching you work over him, and you were grateful for the distraction. 

"What about your family? Where are your mother and father?" Ivar asked while leaning back on the strength of his arms.

"They're both dead," You said, pausing only a moment to collect yourself before continuing on his braces. "I was born in Rendlesham, in East Angles. My mother was a whore, and I never knew who my father was as a result of that. When she died, I was orphaned to the streets until the church took me in. Being of such low birth standing, I turned to the church as my ray of hope."

You could feel Ivar frowning at you, but you did not waver. "Did you not want to be something more than a nun?"

You breathed a laugh. "Such as what? Saxon women are not allowed to be warriors."

"Yes, but isn't there a way you could have improved your situation?"

"No," You said bluntly. "Blood is everything. Those who are of Royal standing will always be in power, and through marriage, their line continues. The best I could have hoped for was a marriage to a farmer, and he would have to have been a poor one. I would have raised his children, and likely died young from childbirth."

"I see now why you're a nun," said Ivar. When you chanced a look up at him, he appeared troubled by your story. "Those Saxons in power are greedy. They keep all for themselves and give nothing back. What chance is there of an honorable death for those forced to live a life of poverty?"

"If you die without sin, you go to Heaven. We have no need for honor."

"A life without sin," Ivar hummed. "As if any man is capable of such purity."

"A Priest is," You argued back. "It takes a nobleman to obtain such a pious position in the church."

"Is it noble for these men to keep silver and gold in their churches while children run through the streets, no better than dogs?" Ivar had sat forward, his eyes emboldened with the wrath of a demon. "I have seen your noblemen of the cloth, and they died screaming the same as any sinning heathen of mine."

You lost your balance, falling flat on your bottom as you gazed up at Ivar in terror. "What did you do to them?"

"The things I've done to your priests," Ivar paused, a calm washing over him. "It would make Loki grin."

The suffering of your people seemed to fall down on you like a star collapsing from the night sky. When he spoke, you could almost forget that Ivar was your enemy, but he had now made it clearer than ever where the line in the sand was drawn. You were just a slave, a Christian slave, and how soon would it be before he tired of you? You did not wish the same fate to befall you as it had for the priests, whatever it had been.

"I have not dismissed you," Ivar tutted when you began to walk away to your corner, unaware yourself that you had begun to do so. You craved distance from him, even if it was only a few feet away. 

At first, he tried to manage his composure, calling you back with his voice deliberately even. When it became clear that no amount of coaxing on his part would work, he started yelling in his language. That word came up again, 'Ólaug'. It had been peppered into a number of your one-sided conversations. If he had tried to brand you with a new name, you would refuse. He would not take who you were. 

Your fight ended with him throwing one of his crutches at you. It landed just before you, and you were able to contain your flinch. Ivar scoffed at your non-reaction and threw himself back onto the furs. He had finished disrobing and gave you the courtesy of his back, which appeared to be covered in a new etched design each time you saw him. Matched against your own untainted skin, it was a reminder of how different the worlds you came from were.

When you were sure Ivar had fallen asleep, you moved to get under your own thin pile of wool blankets. They were scratchy and held none of the warmth of the furs, but it was not the worst sleeping conditions you had ever weathered. That night you prayed for the lost Priests, and for God to take away your suffering. You didn't see a way out of your situation, but if God acted through you, you were certain to find your answer. Content to keep faith in your heart, Sister Mary Catharine slept, ignorant to the matter that Ivar was awake and watching you.

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[obeymeaskme]

Obey Me!: Human and Demon Hearts!

A/N: I will be pinning a master list for ALL chapters uploaded, and adding links to said master list!

Chapter One: The Arrivals (2/2)

Word Count: 2213

Rating: 18+

Lights had filled the room. Purples, reds, greens, blues, yellows, golds, and pink flooded around the house like snakes searching for it's meal. Finding their targets still fast asleep, they coiled around their bodies until they were both covered head to toe. In almost an instant their bodies were swallowed whole, and the colored fog had disappeared as soon as they arrived. Leaving no one in their wake. Just the house. Empty of any breathing soul.

Through the closed eyes of the young girls, the colors still swirled. They were almost hypnotized by it. To each of their own the colors formed happy dreams, calming scents, and other promising visions. Even then, a black haze had started taking over. Though they were not awake their bodies had felt the shift and difference in their surroundings. Their skin no longer felt the soft warm beds. Now they lay flat on their backs upon two cushioned slabs. The air around them had grown hot, and uncomfortable. Their dreamy visions had finally faded to black, the panic set in, and they opened their eyes. Fully hoping their dreams turned into a nightmare. Concern and paranoia had set in as they shot up and locked eyes on each other. Fear evident in their faces.

Thoughts of cults and kidnappings came from their mouths as they tried so hard to figure out where they were. A loud and controlling voice echoed from nearby. They turned to the voice only to be met with seven uniformed men sitting under a high pedestal where another man sat, dressed in red. Noelle was first to stand up, her shaking feet feeling the stone cold ground that sent a shock through her body. Instantly, she stretched an arm out in front of Bella to protect her. The height difference between Noelle and Bella seemed comical to the seven men sitting at ground level, as various snickers and smirks were targeted towards them. The man above them speaking out again.

“Please, Don't be so afraid! You were brought here with good reason, and pure intentions!”

“What? Are you gonna brainwash us or something? Cause that would be the only "good reason" I can think of....”

Noelle spat back at the man, but shrunk slightly as he stood up, and frowned. Feeling looked down on, the girls tried to walk backwards for a door, but they only found the slabs they had woken up on.

“There will be no brainwashing, and you're more than welcome to leave at any time you desire. But only if you agree to change into more formal clothing, and listen to what I have to say...”

Noelle had yelped at the additional person who seemed to have been already standing by their side waiting, and holding on to clothing. A pleading look on his face had the girls silently agreeing to play along. Within the small amount of time they got dressed they seemed to have shaken off the general shock. Both of them seemed to admire the large banners decorated with different animals. They hung above the seven men in what was perceived as their rankings.

The silence that fell was broken too soon by the man in red who was obviously the leader of the group, and the silent servant who offered them clothes had stood next to him. Everyone now was on the same ground level.

“Let us try this again. I am Lord Diavolo, and you are the current hosts at the Royal Academy of Diavolo. Also known as RAD...”

“I knew it! It's a cult!”

Noelle exaggerated, and ruffled her nappy hair as a couple chuckles echoed around them. Her reaction almost lightened the mood.

“Not quite. I am the soon to be Heir of Devildom. The more civilized section of Hell's Layers. Or what some Humans tend to call the Underworld.”

The girls shook their heads in confusion. And for a few seconds they both looked at each other. Unsure if the truth was being told, but if it was...

“Wait... You said RAD. Oh dear god no. We tossed those out! We never gave them back to that creepy old lady! SHE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW US!”

Noelle seemed to panic as more and more irrational thoughts spewed out. A hand was placed on her shoulder, and she shrunk under the large man's touch. She reached back for Bella, but Bella had already backed away, fear seeping into her face.

“Those papers you filled out were connected to the ones in my office. As you filled those out, it carved ink into the papers here was well. Infused with my own magic. We call it Bleeding Applications. The main goal of my academy is to get an understanding of humans, demons, and angels in order to one day have peace between the three realms.”

Relaxing, Noelle nodded and looked back at Bella. Silently telling her that it's okay to get closer. She frowned as Bella shook her head no and opted to sit on the slab instead.

“Why us? We thought it was just a joke. What if we lied on those papers?”

“Well did you?”

“... No...”

“Perfect! I'd like to personally welcome you to the program! That is... If you agree to stay...”

A discussion took place about the new house they just bought, and their new lives they would miss out on. The teal haired servant that had guided the girls earlier was known as Barbatos. He was given the job to see that the newly acquired house would be taken care of as needed, and their payment would be completely paid off if they agreed to the program, and succeeded in staying. “But in hell?” Thought Noelle. “That's close to a death wish”. And as if her mind was read, they were introduced to the seven men who have been secretly judging them this whole time.

As the introductions went along it was revealed they were not just demons, or the school's council members, but they were all brothers. Lucifer. The eldest, who seemed to be the most put together, was the Avatar of Pride. Red eyes, and neatly kept black hair giving him a devilish charm, but an arrogant one as well. Mammon. The Second born who had made the most noise and laughter, and was obviously looking down on the girls. White hair, and unnatural blue eyes said trust, but he was the Avatar of greed. One to watch out for. The third born seemed bored of the whole situation, and would look away when either girl made eye contact. Dark lilac hair, with shiny orange eyes; the avatar of Envy. That was Leviathan. Fourth born, Satan, had given both the girls unwanted shivers as he was the Avatar of Wrath. The blonde hair and greenish blue eyes were comforting, but told them to run and hide. The fourth born, Asmodeus, was drilling holes into the girls with his own set of orange lush eyes. The mention of Lust made them both frown and slightly cringe as a quick wink was sent their way. Sandy hair was swept to the side flamboyantly. The last two were a set of twins. A redhead and a black haired male who's bangs were dyed white, and they shared purple eyes. Neither seemingly bored, or interested in the meeting. They were Beelzebub; Avatar of Gluttony, and Belphegor; Avatar of Sloth.

A bell rang out as soon as introductions were done, and everyone but the first born (Lucifer) had left. Stomachs growled and the girls looked around, avoiding his stare. Becoming impatient he walked by them. Nose in the air, and not bothering to even look at them.

“If you decide to follow me, I am heading to the cafeteria where we will give you a list of things you may want to avoid eating while you stay here. That is, if you have the gall to...”

Gulping they followed. The Cafeteria was empty, and it was no surprise to any of the demon brothers. As their food was handed to them, they both grimaced at the purple sludge consistency in front of them. They were soon forced to eat it, especially if they planned on eating any other foods that may contain poison. As much of the food in Devildom seemed to consist of. Soon after their crash course the girls were left to their own devices, and did their best to talk amongst themselves. Their decision to stay or leave weighed heavy.

Upon agreeing to stay, Lucifer seemed rather pleased with the news. The first genuine smile the girls had seen from him. It was then their task to talk with the brothers and decide who they chose as a tutor, who would also act as a guide.

Bella had immediately followed Noelle, and they first talked to the youngest, thinking that they would be the easiest to get along with. While they were not wrong about it, Bella seemed to relax more with the Sins of Gluttony, and Sloth. It became apparent that it was a two for one deal, and Noelle had stepped back to visually analyze her choices. By which she just looked at the remaining choices and their current activity. Satan and Asmodeus was almost an immediate no go. She feared she'd anger the wrath god, or be seduced. Neither of those were a good thing for her, or her mental health. Then her eyes laid upon Leviathan. The name stuck from TV shows she's watched in the past. Furthermore she couldn't help but recognize the hand held device in his hands.

Walking up to him with a bit more confidence, she sat beside him, and watched him for a few seconds. She recognized the sounds of Mario Kart being played. Perking up she waited for him to be seemingly done with his race.

“You know, I'm kind of a fan of racing games.”

Leviathan had rolled his eyes and gave her a frowning glare. It was obvious he didn't want to be bothered at this time. But before the conversation could continue, the bell rang, and Lucifer arose from his seat, his brother's watching him for instructions.

“I'm glad to see that you two have finally made your decision on your tour guides, and over all protectors-”

Noelle heard a quiet protest come from Leviathan, which was quickly shut down by Lucifer's glare.

“-Though they are now assigned to be your guides, this does not mean you must befriend them, or be attached at the hip. They have duties and hobbies of their own, and I expect you both respect that. Feel free to reach out to any of the brothers with questions. Now with that being said, you may head back to the council room, and collect your personal belongings, and devices.”

The bell had rung, but an eternity set in as Lucifer explained to them on how they were to settle in. Eventually they had collected a few bags of personal items, and enough clothes to get through the week. On top of that, they were given an allowance for other necessities, and any other luxuries they desired. It also turned out that the demons Bella and Noelle had been assigned were also key to their class schedule. Bella's classes consisted of study halls, history classes, along with a gym class. The final class earning a shared groan between Belphegor and Bella.

Noelle had a small bit of luck with more hands on classes such as dark arts, an actual art class, and potions. Though the tour between classes with Levi as her guide consisted more of him complaining about some 'Normie' having to follow him around. Noelle made mental notes of some complaints as to not make him mad.

The tours finally came to an end, and they were led to the House of Lamentation. A large Mansion where the Brothers lived, and where the Girls would be hosted for the school year. Dinner had passed by and soon the girls were brought to their rooms.

They hardly had time to admire the Gothic design of the home, as the girls split ways at the top of the stairs. Bella had taken a spare room closest to them, but Noelle had made her way down the hall. Leviathan had made a comment about how he's literally two doors across the hall from her room. He wasn't the nicest it seemed, as more insults of having to 'babysit' was made. An even bigger groan was made as he opened the door. It was a rather large storage room, that apparently Mammon was supposed to clean out before any new students arrived.

Arrangements were quickly made, and it seemed like Noelle would be staying in the living room until the storage space was cleared out. The darkness surrounded Noelle as Leviathan had left her alone rather quickly to go read Manga. Even though Noelle had expressed her fondness about the Japanese comics, it reached deaf ears, but was still greeted with a small 'whatever'. The night washed out the remaining lights. And Sleep was surprisingly attainable.

[dog-day-morning]

YOU OWE THEM NOTHING

People can be self-righteous when it comes to what they think God is supposed to do if, and when they call on Him. God is not a genie in a bottle that you rub, and a jinn pops out granting you 3 or 300 wishes. The saying faith without works is dead can be applied here. Have you ever heard of or read the book Daniel Webster and the devil? This tall tale or folklore legend was about a man who made a deal with old Slew Foot, and when it was time to pay up he had 2nd thoughts. Satan never plays fair. He's forever putting us in positions where we find ourselves desperate for a quick solution to a temporary problem that only leads to a difficult end. The Latin term for buyer beware is caveat emptor, and Satan knows how to spell. The power of a wicken comes from their basic weapon of spelling or casting spells by word of mouth. Even the Bible tells us that “Death and life are in the power of the tongue: and they that love it shall eat the fruit thereof.” Tell that to a Nicolaitan. Those who make deals with the most unclean should expect to suffer in the end. Never trust the father of lies who deals in treachery, and deceit. I look back at my mother's life and wonder if God had ever intervened for her, and fought her battles that surely He and only He would be able to deliver her from, and He has. Life is hard, for many it’s a nightmare that’s ongoing. Satan comes to you when you're at your weakest or most vulnerable in the hopes of snaring your soul into eternal suffering. Jesus comes to deliver us from death, sin, and temptations that confuse us in our trek towards His truth. If you have any aspirations of entertaining people with your gifted voice or your talent for playing lead guitar, don’t sign a contract that promises you the world only to find out you owe them your sweet ass which a man of honor wouldn't consider let alone make you cosign your body for their horn dog appeasement.

Revelation 2:9

9 I know thy works, and tribulation, and poverty, (but thou art rich) and I know the blasphemy of them which say they are Jews, and are not, but are the synagogue of Satan.

You're abundantly rich in spirit Yacob. Now’s the time to claim your position. These bastards have taken everything from you leaving your ancestors nothing but dust. If they could remove us off the face of the Earth they would. They're plotting to do so as you and I breathe, that's why the Father never sleeps. They are demon spawns who say they worship, and believe in God, but whose god, and what righteous god tells you to destroy a people with his blessing knowing what the children of Japheth have done to them historically? The spawns of Satan want your penuche, mouth, titties, and a-hole for their pleasure along with your talent that Justin Timberlake does not have. The new faces of R&B do not look like the people I grew up listening to or the race of people whose songs left an everlasting impression on my bleeding heart that helped me through my ill-fated, miserable existence. Robin Thicke, Christina Aguilera, K-Pop, the BackStreet Boys, and New Kids on the Block. Some of these groups are defunct, but they’re cranking out as many as they possibly can like Justin Bieber, and Demi Lovato. I just saw on YouTube where people were considering if Elvis Presley was Black, WTF?!! He was the biggest culture thief that Dr. Frankenstein, AKA Colonel Parker ever created. Man is cruel; Satan is a whole other type of bastard you shouldn’t entertain. I'm retarded. Some call me an idiot savant. YO MOMMA!!! People are blessed by the Father who has blessed many of us with gifts. There are many of you whom God has endowed with multiple talents that people would sell their soul in order to possess just one. If you're anointed by God to sing like Aretha Franklin may He lead you to sign with a label like Brother Carl Crawford's who won't make the same mistake he did with a very popular artist at this moment. More than likely you'll sign a contract entrusting your talent, blessing, and soul to the most unclean ones. Ain’t a reason in hell you should bow down or bend over for a leach like Mr. Friedman so he can butt bone your a-hole while enriching himself off your God given talents. God blesses those who seek him out, and those that don’t. I don’t know if Eddie Murphy went to Church, and sowed an offering every Sunday to God praying that the Father would make him the highest paid comedic actor in his prime. Richard Pryor was anointed in the womb to be the most blessed comedic talent, and influential comedian to ever walk this Earth bar none yet he and Mr. Murphy pursued their dreams in different ways with both of them becoming world renown. I'm inclined to ask, was it worth it?

Mark 8:36

For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?

The synagogue of Satan isn’t a trending pop culture manifestation that’s to be esteemed, cherished, or envied. These cults are trying to maintain a stranglehold on a world that’s not meant for them or their sort. People who play with Ouija boards or childhood games like Bloody Mary, and light as a feather are ushering dark spirits into their homes leaving their loved ones exposed to something sinister. Get the hell away from me and mine unless you're my sister, AKA Ms. Skunk Funk, who needs to get the crust burnt off her musty, dusty drawers. The whore of Don Juan has a death wish. Explain to me how running with the devil beats walking with God?

Isaiah 59:7

7 Their feet run to evil, and they make haste to shed innocent blood: their thoughts are thoughts of iniquity; wasting and destruction are in their paths.

This Nation was built on our ancestor’s blood, sweat, and relentless faith. Believe me when I say there's strength in every tear. I pray to God that I don’t shed anymore of them. Their wealth is not. It's a stolen Promise that the Father shall reward His children with. Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse, that there may be meat in mine house, and prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it. The most glaring, and frustrating example that is also bitter and disheartening I can give you is our Promised Inheritance called Yisrael that the gentiles are squatting on. When a person or in this case a tribe or race of people believe in their own lies they've become reprobate; they're lost.

Revelation 3:9

9 Behold, I will make them of the synagogue of Satan, which say they are Jews, and are not, but do lie; behold, I will make them to come and worship before thy feet, and to know that I have loved thee.

This is what all of Esau's children fear. It's why the bland, colored people of the world are flipping over the Earth's axis, and killing us without any probable cause. They are a lawless people who've displayed their lack of empathy, and humanity for anyone save their own breed, they behave like blood hounds. I've become content with this planet being void of water (Holy Spirit.) Black people suffer from a social disorder called the crab bucket mentality. We hate to see anyone rise up, and we’ll do whatever it takes to keep them down or discourage them. That person may possess something that can benefit the collective, who cares. He who possesses that blessing needs to haul tail ASAP before the winter comes knowing the Father will bless him, and a downtrodden people beyond their wildest dreams. This is why Yeshua, and His Father call us children. It's why I pray, and bemoan to the Father daily that He slays me, putting the fear of the Lord in the heathen and His Son Christ Jesus uses us for His purpose. God doesn't need us, we need Him. He's given us so much power, and authority. When you acquire it, use it for something other than satisfying your sinful, carnal, flesh minded desires. Men, don't behave like horn dogs, and women do not behave as Aholah, and Aholibah, 2 whores.

Numbers 32:24

24 Build you cities for your little ones, and folds for your sheep; and do that which hath proceeded out of your mouth.

Out of thine own mouth you have power to tread over snakes and scorpions. You can exorcise demons and devils out of your present life braking generational curses which is what I' want for a family that's disowned me. To God be the glory. God is telling us to declare a thing, and claim it. What a mighty, just God we serve. Your tongue will become a weapon to use against the lawless ones who use theirs recklessly in their attempts to get us arrested or murdered by local, and federal authorities. You can call it giving them a taste of their own medicine, it isn't. You're reclaiming what they've taken, stolen, including those of us they've murdered.

Isaiah 54:17

17 No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper; and every tongue that shall rise against thee in judgment thou shalt condemn. This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord, and their righteousness is of me, saith the Lord.

The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly. Speak positive prayers out loud if you can. If you live with your family or have a roommate pray in the closet. You'll have favor with God that many people won't. They rebuked the Lord, and their anger did tear perpetually, and they kept their wrath forever. When they use their privilege, which is what we call it more often than they, comprehending they’re fully aware knowing they use it with a Demonic, driven hatred. They persecute Black men, women, and children for reasons that are not godly, and the Father does not condone. They, and all the Earth will have to answer for our individual sins against the Father in the end.

Luke 10:19

19 Behold, I give unto you power to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy: and nothing shall by any means hurt you.

We don’t worship the same god as they do. They're praying to a god to erase us off the face of the Earth. Why hasn't he?.

Exodus 1:12

12 But the more they afflicted them, the more they multiplied and grew. And they were grieved because of the children of Israel.

Their birth rate is dropping steadily. For the first time in the history of the census they decreased in population globally while indigenous, and other races of people stayed steady or in our case increased. This is the reasoning behind these draconian abortion laws. They're trying to preserve themselves while God is eliminating the Earth of their bloody dominion. God is sending the wicked a message before the storm comes, but no one's listening. Their violence towards us is documented, and more often it's unprovoked. They continue with the guilty until proven worthy of their mercy dogmatic mantra which is racist BS. The Earth will be lulled back to sleep. When they're confident that their world isn't in danger of being challenged by anyone, especially us. That's when God will do things that will scare them right back to the caucasus mountains bringing destruction to those who've touched, bruised, and abused the Apple of His eye. Speak life into your angel spirit, don’t entertain the demon seed that's trying to kill you, and the rest of Earth's indigenous people. You have much authority, use it. Elohim. 9/23/2021