#hellish leviathan

[hhelliish]

Some Seven Deadly Sin design ideas i felt i needed to write down somewhere

Lucifer (Pride): he is the character ive worked most on out all of them

currently his design is going through some changes. for one i want him to be more goat like. i still want to keep his sharper nose cuz i just really like that one him, but hes going to start looking more like a furry as the days pass sorry not sorry

his personality i dont plan on changing. he's going to remain a more standoff-ish and quiet, coming off as cold. but on his other side he is actually quite caring and passionate about taking care of his family, his people, and Hell itself

Sathanas (Wrath): hes a bit tricky. i didnt want him to be so predictable by being a meet head jock or something. so i decided to go the business man route.

im thinking of also making him more animal like. maybe a bull to represent the wrath part of him to get a better idea. he also 100% has glasses he's a nerd

personality; similar to Lucifer he's quiet and intimidating, but more like the opposite spectrum. he comes off as more stern and serious, not taking anyones shit and he means it

Beelzebub (Gluttony): my silly. ive grown heavily attached to him

entirely going into a bug look for him. in my mind he looks a bit human but has a lot of bugs features like antenna's, four pairs of arms, huge insect wings, differently bent legs, and possibly abdomen im not entirely sure about that yet

i always pictured him to be very carefree, silly, but really off putting and strange. bro totally eats corpses and thats ok because hes funny <3

he also has a wife and child. she let him hit cuz hes goofy

Asmodeus (Lust): this again is a tricky one cuz i really want him to be unique but translate his design that doesnt feel overcomplicated to design. because if you know how he really looks, its a lot

i do have in mind i want him to be fat as im tired of the definition of Lust being this skinny guy. fat people can be hot af and i want that to be more pushed

i was also thinking with how Asmodeus has more than one face, i either thought he could change his features by waving a hand in face that changes everytime like magic. or he spins his head like a doll and appears a new face every so often. not entirely sure with what i want to do but the separate faces i dont think i want to make to be different people, rather just different appearances

Asmodeus is also a kind and full of passion for others. he has several partners that he all treats very well and is not purely out of lust

Mammon (Greed): again, this is a hard one

Mammon in my mind can be many things and its hard for me to decide what he looks like. so he is the one thats the most work in progress as for some reason its just difficult for me

as for personality, hes by far the nastiest out of all the Sins. besides Belphegor, he very much embraces the sin he represents and doesnt feel bad about it. hes a man of the status quo and likes to be the bigger person power or wealth wise.

even though when being ranked alongside the other seven sins he isn't that powerful compared to Sathanas, Beelzebub, or definitely Lucifer

so hes kind of compensating all the time for his broken ego LOL

Leviathan (Envy): SEA WITCH SEA WITCH

ive been so excited to design her and im gonna go all out with the deep sea monster look. i envision her as a kind of kelpie/siren kind of monster creature girl that has hair covering her face but a huge creepy smile. shes got lots of teeth like a shark

personality so far is that shes a bit creepy. she likes to make herself look as if her spine is cracking in half and loves fucking with people. but sometimes her creepiness is just who she is. no one can tell when shes being serious or being an ass

Belphegor (Sloth): the last furry i promise (not)

yeah, i may be stealing the idea of what Vizviepop is doing with her Belphegor. not like entirely tho since we still dont know what she looks like. but my Belphegor is going to be a sheep for certain

i want her to be the shortest out of all the Sins and look like the fairly unthreatening one. but thats where she gets you cuz actually all along her fluffy wools is eyeballs that pop out of nowhere and scare the hell out of you

her attitude to me is more predictable for Belphegor by being noncaring, monotone, and sleepy. but i honestly cant think of her in any other way it just fits best. i imagine she never even walks she just floats around with a pillow and sleeps randomly

these are just concept ideas btw but i needed to air this out to someone so i hope you guys enjoy seeing my thought process <3

[obeymefictionwriting]

Texts from Brothers and Dateables Part 10

Your favorite texts from brothers ARE BACK BABY!!

Lucifer: Do you happen to know the origin of the Devilish Black Coffee stain on my favorite shirt? Also, you looked lovely today :*

Mammon: Hey, I'll be out of Devildom for a while - pls don't tell Lucifer, okay??

Leviathan: I did one push-up. Can this day get any worse?

Satan: I heard Mammon storming out of the House of Lamentation. Do you know where this moron is heading? Also, I need to know how exactly he pissed Lucifer off. I'm going to elevate his method.

Asmodeus: Hellish Beige or Sinful Indigo???

Beelzebub: Um I think Levi doesn't feel very good. I'll check on him later. Pls come with me, I'll bring snacks.

Belphegor: Ayo, you like bondage?

Diabolo: Today I saw a balloon. HOWS YOUR DAY??

Barbatos: I've bought a new bed. It should suit your acrobatic needs better ;)

Simeon: I'll take Lucifer out for shopping. Please keep Luke company. Love you!

Solomon: I'm bored. Let's turn Mammon into a talking dog.

Luke: Please promise we'll watch Flamed 2 movie again!!

[rawcalamity]

From the leviathans of vast stature to the ones feeble and numb; all succumb before the hunger of diving vultures. Piercing the skies of gelid seas are those who hail from ice. Woolly seals wear a title of deceit, for their kin stray far from the graceful mammals of our oceans. These hellish creatures revel in their carnage, with dozens of clawed tendrils reaching from their gnarled maws begging to cleave flesh. Although small and nimble, you are a fool to judge the capabilities of these predators. All who cross paths with a murder are mercilessly torn asunder from muscle to bone. Boasting a powerful muscular structure, woolly seals find ease in wrestling the strongest of leviathans into submission. These persistent animals are reliant on their numbers, overwhelming prey with the sheer volume of the murder whipping lacerations into their flesh. Fending off a murder is a futile pursuit, for a leviathan will quickly exhaust itself as it thrashes about to no avail. Fleeing yields no promise either, as woolly seals will leech onto their prey via puncturing the body with their prickly pectoral flippers; ensuring that the animal is secured tightly to its victim. Deceased leviathans are left to wither away in a crimson sea painted by their canvas. Woolly seals garnered their name from extraterrestrial human researchers, who upon first discovering the species noted how vaguely reminiscent of earthly pinnipeds they were—only, these creatures donned a thick hydrodynamic coat likened to wool. While their pelage serves to maintain a streamlined form when diving, it is also vital to maintaining body heat against the unforgiving cold. Because the frame of a woolly seal is so muscular, they lack insulating blubber found in most marine mammals. To compensate, their coats double as a highly effective insulator. Unlike true pinnipeds, the hind flippers of a woolly seal fuse to form a more tail fluke-like shape. This enhances the animals swim speed, while also reducing land mobility. As a result, woolly seals are remarkably vulnerable when lounging on sea ice. As such, woolly seals prefer to remain close to water.

[ladykailitha]

The Hellfire Exotic Club Part 1

September was way too far away for the release of this story. It was just becoming too fun not let you see it. So here's a sneaky peek before my hiatus on the 18th.

Rated M This story is not for the under 18 set. Like this whole story deals with sex and nudity. Might even make it a hard E to be on the safe side.

Summary: The Hellfire Exotic Club was the hottest ticket around. The best male and female exotic dancers in the whole god damn state with each night a deadly sin. When owner, Eddie loses his Envy because the guy fucked the wrong person, he has a week to find a replacement. But when Steve auditions with Julia Michael's Heaven, it turns the entire club on its head.

Now Eddie must deal with the usual nut jobs trying to close him down, dancers not liking the new changes, and his former Envy causing trouble, all this on top of having budding feelings for Steve.

But if Eddie is anything, he's resilient and stubborn. Come hell or high water, him and his club is going to come out of this just fine.

~

The Hellfire Erotic Club was the hottest ticket in town. Known for two things. It’s hellish theme and its eccentric owner and lead dancer Eddie Munson. It was mainly a burlesque club with some stripping involved. But that’s not why people came in droves. Eddie was Lucifer, king of hell and his dancers all had demon names: Lilith, Astraroth, Mephistopheles, Beelzebub, Leviathan just to name a few.

There were women dancers, but the main draw was men in shapes and sizes, dancing. Each night was a deadly sin. With Lucifer on Saturday night as Pride. The only colors allowed seemed to be red or black with little variation, but what they lacked in originality they made up for in style.

Their outfits were always the titillation of the crowd even before they came off. Not that they always did. It was entirely up to the dancer. One of everyone’s favorite nights was Mammon the demon of gluttony. He was a heavy set man who could out spin anyone on the pole and always stayed dressed for the whole show. Except on his nights when he was bathed in an glittering yellow glow, he would get as far as just his pants on. Regardless of what did or didn’t take off, Mammon attracted quite the crowd every Tuesday night.

Eddie loved what he did. His demons were the talk of the town and everyone who was anyone came through his doors. But he had a problem. His demon of Envy Billy Hargrove got caught with the daughter of the mayor. The very married daughter of the mayor. By her husband on what was supposed to be their wedding anniversary.

And while Eddie liked to court controversy, not that kind. It was bad for business if people thought they could get into the g-strings of his dancers. It set a far too dangerous precedent that he really didn’t want to set.

Billy got nasty when Eddie decided to let him go, which only further cemented his decision to do so.

So now he was down a deadly sin and only three days to fill it. To say that he was sweating bullets would be an understatement. He was on his thirteenth audition in as many days and his head was pounding. This was the last one of the day and then he could go home and wallow in his misery.

Then the first notes of Heaven by Julia Michaels filled the air and Eddie looked up. The dancer was gorgeous. He was fit in a way that reminded him of classical ballet dancers. Thin and yet strength showing in every step.The way he moved was like wind on the water. Each move, each step was sensual and sexy as hell.

Eddie scrambled to find the guy’s application. Steve Harrington. And yep, three years of classical ballet at the local dance company, two years on the pole at strip club. And...oh that was interesting. A year teaching pole dancing at a local fitness club to rich bitches.

The song ended and the guy cracked a wide grin at him, nearly ending Eddie’s life. He was elbowed in the ribs by his choreographer and partner in crime, Chrissy Cunningham.

“What made you decide to try out for this position?” Eddie asked, still looking at the application.

“You’ll probably laugh,” Steve said with a disarming smile, “but me and my best friend have always worked together and she recently got a job here as a waitress, so I thought why the hell not, and decided to audition after I saw the flier when I dropped her for her first day of work last night.”

“Robin Buckley is your best friend?” Chrissy asked, her eyes wide.

This time it was Eddie’s turn to elbow his best friend. She already had a crush on the new waitress.

“I have to say,” Chrissy said, leaning on the table with her elbows, “the size of your balls of bringing a song titled ‘Heaven’ to club known for its Satan iconography must be really off the charts.”

Steve threw his head back and laughed. “Did it work?”

Chrissy and Eddie shared a glance. And then Eddie leaned forward next to her, mirroring her pose.

“Yes,” he said with a matching grin, “You’re hired.”

~

To say Eddie was impressed with Steve’s dancing would have been an understatement. The guy had moves that he had created himself. Hell he had an entire routine on a chair that made the “Flashdance” one look tame in comparison.

Fuck, even Chrissy was super close in asking him to teach her some things, because on top of dancing like a sex god, he had the patience of a saint when it came to teaching.

Eddie had fifteen dancers, well technically fourteen because he was one of the dancers. But he had seven principle dancers (again including himself) and eight backup dancers. All named after demons and evil gods. Beings that belonged to hell.

But they were having a hard time figuring out what to name Steve. Billy had gone by Asmodeus even though he had been Envy and not Lust. Envy because he wanted the job of Lust soooo badly.

Steve was okay with taking up the position of Envy. He was the new guy after all and beggars couldn’t be choosers.

But there was something about Steve that made it hard to pick a name for him. So he went hunting down demon and devil names. He already had quite the roster of best Hell had to offer with his backup dancers.

Like his Seven Deadly Sins they were all shapes and sizes, not being able to get work anywhere else because they weren’t the ‘ideal’ body type for dancers.

Fuck, three of his Sins weren’t even ‘thin’ or ‘built’ by any stretch of the imagination. Mammon, Lamia, and Rosier all had body types that would have made other erotic clubs balk.

Mammon, his Greed was more like the comic book character The Kingpin. He was built like a tank and was fucking sexy for it. His curly hair was styled 1920s chic and it made for a rare week day being popular.

Lamia, his Wrath was voluptuous and curvy. She wasn’t ‘fat’ or whatever, but she wasn’t dancer sleek either. Her dusky skin tone and long black hair made her exotic and interesting. On the nights it wasn’t her Sin, she did belly dancing and she was enchanting.

And finally Rosier, his Lust. This is where Eddie courted controversy in the best ways. People could get behind Wrath or Greed not being conventionally attractive, but Lust? That was different. Rosier was a black man who was built, but not in a Chippin’ Dales or Magic Mike kind of way, more in a boxer kind of way. He was barrel-chested with thick thighs. But there was no doubt Rosier was the it guy for all the bachelorette and even a couple of bachelor parties.

Yeah, sure, Gluttony, Sloth, and now Envy were all dancer builds, but the fact that the other half wasn’t? That’s what made The Hellfire Exotic Club so special. That’s what got people through the door every night.

While Hellfire was open every night, Eddie was the only dancer who was there all week. He was the owner and had to be there, but he always made sure each dancer had one night if not two a week they had off.

That was another thing that they were having trouble finding for Steve, what he could do on the nights he wasn’t Envy. Because everyone had something. Stella, his Lamia belly danced; Jeff, his Lust, sang; and even his Sloth, Gareth, played piano.

It wasn’t until Chrissy suggested that the two of them, her and Steve, dancing together as angels on their off days, did it all click.

Steve would dance Monday through Saturday as Samael and then “fall” during his final dance with Chrissy on Saturday to dance Sunday as the envious Satan.

Plus it gave the club a chance to shake up the program in a way that Eddie would have never thought of before hiring Steve.

“And five, six, seven, eight!” Chrissy called out time as Steve hurried to learn a new a dance in three days.

He stumbled and the whole dance crew gasped.

“Hey, Dingus!” Robin called from behind the bar were she was learning the different drinks for Wrath Thursday. “Don’t break a leg, this isn’t theater and they really don’t want to have to hire someone else. Plus, I’d kill you.”

Eddie and Chrissy gave each other concerned glances before Steve burst out laughing.

“If you think this is so easy, bitch,” Steve sassed back, “you get up here and shake your ass and I’ll do the waiting table bit!”

Robin gasped in outrage. “How dare you presume that I couldn’t!”

“Robs,” he said with a sneer, “you have all the coordination of a three hour old baby giraffe and the spots to match!”

She threw down her towel and chased him around the stage, both of them giggling like children.

“Cher,” Eddie said to Chrissy, “how’s that crush coming now?”

Chrissy hit his arm. “Oh yeah, it was bad enough when she was just a cute waiter, but now she’s got this weird sibling relationship with the hottest dancer you’ve ever hired, this is way worse.”

“Glad you made the distinction about hired dancer,” he huffed. “If I‘m not the fairest of them all, I start throwing apples.”

Chrissy’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, we should have a fairy tale night where everyone dances to different fairy tales. With your looks you’d be perfect for Snow White. The pale skin, the dark hair, just add the red lips and it would be perfect.”

Eddie rubbed his chin. “We could even do it on a Sunday, because most of the fairy tales are about envy right? Snow White, Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast, even Hansel and Gretel. Start coming up with fairy tales you’d want to do and we start practicing for it.”

“You’ve got it, babe!” Chrissy said with a kiss on his cheek. She turned back to the stage. “Hey Robin! You can’t murder the talent.”

Robin stopped in her tracks and turned slowly toward the front where Eddie, Chrissy and the rest of the dancers were watching their antics with varying degrees of amusement and shock.

“Shit.” She turned back to Steve. “You live today, dingus. But I’m watching you.”

Steve laughed out loud, his head thrown back, his eyes crinkled, his nose scrunched up, and his mouth wide open as his body just shook with the mirth. “You love me!”

Robin put one hand on her hip and tapped her lips thoughtfully. “Yeah, I suppose.” She went over and kissed his cheek before hopping off the stage and trotting back to the bar to finish being trained.

Chrissy blinked at Steve for a moment before shaking herself off. “Starting at the top?”

“Sure thing!” he chirped happily and got back into starting position.

“Hey, Chris,” one of the backup dancers said shyly.

“Oh hey, Stolas,” she greeted him by his demon name. “What’s up?”

Stolas chewed on his lip and twisted his fingers together. “This might be out of line, but I think I know why he keeps flubbing up at the turn on the second chorus.”

The whole place went dead silent. Eddie opened his mouth to tell him to keep to his place when Steve spoke up.

“Why’s that?” he asked jutting his chin up.

“He’s trying to do the turn as he would in ballet and pirouette,” Stolas said meekly. “But it’s coming off too weak for the move, so he keeps falling.”

Chrissy and Eddie’s jaws dropped. They weren’t the type to see a ballet much less having danced it. Chrissy had a background in cheer and gymnastics, while Eddie had always done burlesque. Eddie knew what to look for when interviewing dancers, of course. There was a certain style and strength that came from doing ballet. Hell, Steve wasn’t his only former ballet dancer. Stolas was one. Leviathan was another. He even had a couple others that started in ballet but moved to other styles of dance.

But Eddie wouldn’t have known why Steve kept fumbling that part.

“Can you show him how to do the turn?” he asked.

Stolas nodded. Eddie waved his arm in the direction of the stage and Stolas hopped up to the stage.

“All right, Stolas,” Steve said with a grin. “Show me what you’ve got.”

And fucking hell, the instant Stolas got into position Eddie could immediately tell the difference between Steve’s and Stolas’ stances. Stolas planted his feet differently.

Eddie watched as Stolas and Chrissy worked together to help Steve get the dance down.

God, he loved his people.

On nowhere else could he have found such a great combination of dancers and good people. Yeah, he got to dance with his best friends, play his guitar, operate a club that was world renown, but knowing that he attracted good people, too? Yeah, that was what made Hellfire so special.

And Steve was going to fit right in.

~

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Tag List: TEN SLOTS REMAINING

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[verefex]

Kraken's Cove

Short story where a stowaway meets the kraken himself, who turns out to be less scary than he initially thought.

Content warnings in the tags. Enjoy!

On a vessel cruising along the open seas, hid a stowaway. Tucked under a tarp in the dinghy that hung suspended by ropes and pulleys off the side of the traveling ship, a man rested quietly. After perusing the food, drink, and trinkets from the ship’s stores, he gathered up his haul in the small rowboat and hunkered down for the journey.

Swaying comfortably back and forth, suspended off the port side, Raphael, as the stowaway was named, was quite used to this sort of life. Sneaking his way onto sailing vessels docked at ports, he made his living by stealing. It was dishonest work, he knew that. But as he would often say, “pay your debts with the topsail”, fleeing across the wide seas was the life he was forced to choose.

Seagulls cried overhead as the ship’s wooden hull creaked and cut through the waves, lofty sails billowing in the sea breeze. The sun shined brightly in the blue sky overhead, not a storm cloud in sight over the deep, open ocean; a sailor’s dream.

That is, until a deafening impact sound is heard against the ship’s hull.

Almost immediately, the crew sprung to full alert, scrambling on the deck to man the sails and cannons. Raphael threw the tarp off of himself and held fast to the rowboat’s sides, green eyes wide under his headband and dark, wavy hair.

“That’s my cue.” He muttered as the ship’s crew prepared for attack, completely unaware of their rowboat quickly but silently being lowered into the water by the pulleys.

Raphael was no stranger to close calls and narrow escapes, it was often how he departed from his seaward journeys. From borrowing dinghies to diving into the foamy waters below and swimming to shore, he reveled in the calmness that came with the long journey. But for now, he was not about to go down with the ship.

“Kraken! It’s the kraken!” The voice of the captain bellowed from the decks. Raphael paused, holding fast to the ropes that suspended the rowboat over the disturbed waters below.

Now, it was common knowledge that sailors often told tall tales of sea monsters. Months at sea will do things to ya, was the common response, coupled with the solemn shake of the head. Ships went missing all the time, though that didn’t necessarily mean they were sunken by a leviathan.

And yet, as Raphael peeked over the side of the boat, staring deep below the waves and foam, he spied what could be described as nothing but an enormous snake.

A tentacle.

In a panic, Raphael grasped the ropes and shimmied the boat back up towards the deck, trying to get as far away from the water as possible. Though, as he approached the railing, his cover was nearly blown as a crew mate leaned over and pointed at the gargantuan form below the surface.

“Shit…” the stowaway hissed as he ducked back under the tarp just in time. His heart raced as he realized he was trapped between the deck of the ship and the watery grave just below.

The ship rocked suddenly, and the deck erupted in shouts as the monster’s tentacles surfaced, bright blue appendages thicker than a man was tall. Either side of the ship was grasped suddenly, one on each side, snaking upwards slowly.

Raphael peeked out from the tarp, unable to believe his eyes. The hull creaked and groaned under the weight of the massive tentacle that slithered along the surface, almost meticulously, like it was feeling around for something.

He was not about to stick around for this hellish leviathan to sink the ship. Such a giant creature would not be interested in a tiny rowboat, he wagered with little hope.

Two whacks from his cutlass, and the ropes were severed. Raphael held fast as the rowboat dropped off the side of the ship, plummeting to the ocean below. He landed with a painful splash that jolted his entire body, nearly stunning him for a moment.

The sounds of cannons above him startled him into scrambling along the seats and deploying the oars. He whipped the boat around and started rowing, watching as the enormous ship was dwarfed by another pair of tentacles rising out of the water below.

“Those old sea dogs were right, huh!” Raphael exclaimed as he rowed further and further away from the commotion of the fabled sea monster. As he had hoped, the leviathan busied itself with the ship, leaving him with another successful escape and quite a tale to tell once he reached shore.

However, as he rowed on, he grew quite tired of fighting the large waves with just two oars. He wasn’t sure if he had gotten anywhere by his own rowing, or if the currents and wind carried him. All he knew was the sailing ship was no longer in sight, and neither was any sign of a landmass.

With the sun still bright, the man grew weary, clad with only a black and white shirt, dark pants, and tall leather boots. He stowed the oars and covered himself with the tarp, shading his weathered skin from the sun as he sorted through his provisions.

“More than a week’s worth, so long as this thimble doesn’t sink.” Raphael said as he rationed the food and water that was already smuggled away for the ship’s journey. His only hope now was to find any sort of land or ship that would rescue him before his water depletes.

Since the act of rowing was tiresome and nearly useless against the waves, the stowaway, now captain of the dinghy, resumed the act of hunkering down under the tarp and letting the waves carry him wherever they may lead.

The rowboat drifted for hours, rocking this way and that, a tiny speck in the vast blue ocean. Thankfully the weather was calm and the temperature mild, though favorable conditions never lasted as long as you’d expect them to on the open ocean.

As the sun was nearing the horizon, painting the sky with orange and purple hues, Raphael uncovered himself and leaned back in the boat, taking small sips from his canteen and enjoying a rather unripe pear. He laughed to himself, thinking of how it’s possible that he was the only survivor from that ship, and they had no knowledge of him even being onboard.

As he finished off the core of the pear, Raphael felt an ominous rumble rattle his body. He grew tense and gripped the sides of the rowboat as he not only felt it, but heard it, somewhere deep under the waves. Something immense.

“Oh, no.” He said shakily as a cloud of bubbles erupted around the boat, a phenomenon that often occurred along with a large pod of whales preparing to surface. Raphael flung the oars out and rowed quickly away from the bubbling water, not about to let his dinghy be capsized.

The small boat did not get very far before something surfaced, not a whale or a tentacle, but a face.

A giant, human-like head surfaced before Raphael, as water poured down their dark blue-streaked skin. Bright yellow eyes peered at the castaway, set on a masculine face with long silvery-blue hair and an array of fin-like structures on either side of his head. A massive, towering head.

Raphael stared up in shock momentarily before letting out a terrified scream. First a kraken, now a giant? The odds were not in his favor today, though the oddities certainly were starting to pile up.

The giant, treading the water as he loomed over Raphael and his rowboat, tilted his head and let out a chuff, a rumbling puff of air. An enormous hand rose underneath the boat and lifted it in his palm just as wide as it was long.

The giant opened his lips and said ‘I mean you no harm’, but to Raphael’s human ears, all he heard was a deep, throaty rumble.

“Don’t eat me, don’t eat me!” Raphael merely shouted in response, huddling in his boat that was now captured by the steady hand of the giant. Enormous navy blue fingers with thick claws curved above his head, as wide as a tree.

The giant’s lips curved into a smile, yellow eyes glowing patiently. He held Raphael and his little boat in his right hand, lifted up and out of the water and closer to his enormous face.

‘I am not going to eat you.’ The giant growled. ‘It’s alright. You’re safe.’

“I-I don’t know what you’re saying… are you speaking? Can you understand me?” Raphael said from his captured boat. The man, dwarfed by the giant’s hand around him, stared quizzically at the giant’s glistening face.

‘Yes. Though you may not understand my words, I am speaking your language.’ The giant said calmly, closing his eyes as he nodded and mouthed his words in an exaggerated fashion. Raphael couldn’t help but notice the giant’s mouth was lined with sharp fangs, with a curiously buttery yellow interior.

Raphael started to feel a little more at ease in the ocean giant’s hand. He couldn’t understand why he wasn’t drowned or eaten yet, but the mere premise of being held captive by the towering man was unnerving.

“It must be giant monster day. First a kraken, then you? A giant? A… god?” Raphael said as he gestured to the enormous man.

The giant, named Sithero, let out an airy laugh as he leaned back and lifted the tiny man in his hand higher above the water, giving him a better view of the leviathan’s body. The same blue tentacles that wrapped around the ship rose out of the water around Sithero’s torso, slithering about and swirling the sea.

Raphael stared down for a second, leaning over the side of the boat from within Sithero’s palm. The rest of Sithero’s body began to surface, and the giant angled his hand in a way that the human within could observe the massive length of his tail.

“...You’re the kraken? What on earth… you’re like a mermaid, a giant one… a giant mer… man? I suppose?” The human exclaimed as his eyes trailed down the length of the kraken’s body. He was covered in fine blue scales of varying shades, with his belly and chest lighter in color. From the waist down, his body became elongated, ribbed with hard scutes. He was so large, in fact, that Raphael wondered if he could see the end of his tail at all.

‘I’m Sithero. What are you called?’ The kraken rumbled as he raised his other hand and pointed a clawed finger at the human in his palm.

“What, what’s that about? Me?” Raphael said shakily as the very large kraken pointed and rumbled something at him.

Sithero smiled calmly and pointed at himself. ‘Sithero.’ He growled, emphasizing each syllable before pointing to Raphael again.

“Sss… Slith. Slither. Sith?” The human said, twirling his hands around as he sounded out the guttural growls.

‘Sith… air… oh.’ The kraken hissed.

“Sithero…” Raphael said, and the giant nodded in approval.

“Okay, we’re getting somewhere. Oh, I’m Raphael.” The human said, feeling more comfortable as their strange conversation went on. “Gotta say, I did not expect to be talking to the kraken that, um, attacked our ship.” He said, avoiding to the fact that he was a stowaway, not that Sithero would really care.

‘The ship is fine. I was just saying hello.’ Sithero growled a deep laugh as he waved his other hand in a greeting motion.

“Hello?” Raphael said quietly, waving back. Sithero smiled and chuckled at his new tiny friend.

‘Where are you headed?’ Sithero asked, shrugging his shoulders and gesturing to the vast ocean.

“Uh, I got here by ship. Now I don’t quite know where I am, or frankly, what’s going to happen to me.” Raphael sighed, stretching his arms backwards.

‘I know a place. You can rest there, it’s getting too dark for humans.’ The kraken rumbled and nodded gently, bringing his other hand up and cupping Raphael and his boat.

“I don’t suppose you have it in you to carry me somewhere?” Raphael asked hopefully at the enormous creature, seeing a glimpse of his own reflection in his eerie yellow irises.

‘Yes. But you mustn’t panic.’ Sithero rumbled as he opened his mouth slightly and rubbed his bright-colored tongue along the edges of his teeth.

Raphael winced, leaning away from the giant’s mouth that was quite close now.

“Woah. Hey. We’re on a first-name basis now, you can’t eat me.” He said, clutching the sides of the rowboat.

‘That’s not my intention. Truthfully, you will drown unless I do this… so relax.’ Sithero growled as he angled his head backwards and pinched the boat between his fingers, gently tilting it towards his open mouth.

Raphael, upon seeing the enormous yellow mouth below him, immediately began to panic and flail wildly in the boat that was slowly tipping. “HEY! Stop, stop!!” He shouted, eyes wide at the sight of the kraken’s fanged jaws.

‘If you don’t stop flailing, I might actually bite you.’ The giant growled and tilted the boat upside-down above his open mouth.

Raphael, as nimble as he was, managed to wedge himself under the rowboat’s seats before it was completely tipped over. He wrapped his arms around the boards with just his legs dangling, whimpering as his provisions fell down onto the sea monster’s tongue.

“Cripes…” The man groaned as he gripped onto the board like his life depended on it.

Sithero blinked, expression blank as he closed his mouth, tasting the tiny crates and flasks that fell onto his tongue. He eyed Raphael one last time before gently tipping the boat back upright.

‘Alright. Plan B.’ He rumbled before angling the boat bow-first towards his mouth.

“Don’t… don’t you dare.” Raphael blurted as he righted himself in the bottom of the boat before being plunged into the kraken’s mouth.

The man screamed as the entire rowboat was taken in, sides banging against the monster’s teeth that encircled the cavernous jaws.

Sithero calmly wedged the boat inside, using the tip of his finger to push the stern just past his incisors, which closed together. Raphael was completely sealed inside, along with all of his belongings.

The air inside the giant’s mouth was humid, smelling of seawater. Raphael hunkered down in his little wooden boat, eyes wide as he took in the situation. Though the kraken’s mouth was shut tight, the interior of his mouth glowed a faint, soft yellow. It was quite beautiful, Raphael found himself thinking, as the ridges of Sithero’s palate above him were dotted with bioluminescent photophores.

“Quit messin’ with me… are you gonna eat me or not?” Raphael shouted from within the giant’s mouth, gripping onto the boat as if it was about to rock back towards Sithero’s gullet.

Instead, he was rocked forwards as the kraken dove under the waves. The leviathan took his little friend along, safely sealed in the air pocket in his mouth. His enormous body arched past the waves as the end of his tail raised above the water, then was gone.

Sithero kept Raphael in his jaws for the ride, traveling swift and deep. Though his movements were heavy, he leveled his head carefully to make the trip as comfortable as possible for the human. Deep rumbles of reassurance echoed in his spacious mouth, where Raphael sat hunkered down on top of the giant’s tongue.

Time went on, and Raphael started to relax as best as he could in the humid mouth of the kraken. He hadn’t been swallowed, and instead remained on Sithero’s tongue as the giant carried him into the depths.

“I suppose… this is necessary. I doubt I can hold my breath as long as you.” Raphael said as he laid back in the boat, staring up at Sithero’s upper palate.

Sithero, after a short while, came to an enormous submerged cave. His long body just barely fit through the entrance as he slipped inside, using his limbs to push along the rocky sides to propel his huge body swiftly, until emerging into a large chamber.

The kraken huffed as water dripped from his hair, dispelling droplets from his nostrils as his head and shoulders surfaced from the seawater onto a smooth stone surface in an air-filled cave. He leveled his head and opened his jaws, allowing Raphael to finally breathe in fresh air after being trapped inside.

“Ah, freedom!” The stowaway exclaimed as he stumbled along the boat, looking out from the giant’s teeth encircling him and his vessel.

Sithero rumbled in amusement as he pinched the end of the small boat between his thumb and forefinger and slid it and Raphael out of his mouth. He carefully placed it on the floor of the cave and yawned, stretching his arms and back as he arched his head back.

Raphael, still adjusting to the dim light of the cave, fumbled about in his boat, rocking the frame a few times to determine the stability of the surface. He was painfully aware of the fact that he was surrounded by damp rock, the sheer mass of the kraken’s body as it towered above him in the darkness.

Tentatively, the man swung his leg over the the side of the boat and planted it on the surface. He stood on both legs, glancing around slowly.

“So uh, where did you bring me? Y’know I’m not terribly fond of spelunking…” Raphael said as he stared up at the huge, glimmering figure above him.

Sithero’s eyes and photophores that dotted along his body glowed in the low light. The giant hummed as he reached out into the darkness, rummaging through piles of debris. He picked out a lantern delicately between his claws, handing it to Raphael, who took it into his hands.

“Ah, you’ve got a hoard of some sorts?” The man said as the lantern lit up to his surprise, illuminating the immediate area. His eyes widened as he was greeted with scattered remains of ships, masts as tall as trees with the sails still attached. They were carefully placed against the wall of the cave, each one laid out in all its splendor.

The man’s knees began to buckle at the sheer sight of so many shipwrecks, displayed like trophies in the kraken’s lair. Accompanying the masts were the ship’s figureheads, the intricate carvings of ladies and dragons and other mythical beasts that adorned the bow of sailing ships.

“So… I can only imagine how these all got here.” Raphael said rather quietly as he swung the lantern around, only to be greeted by the enormous face of Sithero, who was peering at the man curiously.

“Geeze, you’re huge.” The man whispered as he held the lantern up to the giant’s face, who was smiling softly.

‘I collect them, that’s all. Better here than rotting in the water.’ Sithero rumbled as he reached out and picked up a mermaid figurehead, gazing at it fondly.

“They are quite pretty… I bet there are some famous ships that wrecked here. You know the navy would kill to get their hands on these, right?” Raphael uttered as he set the lantern in his rowboat and rummaged through his damp provisions.

‘They’d kill me regardless. That’s why I disarm cannons and harpoons when I visit sailing ships.’ Sithero uttered as he flicked a detached cannon along the surface of the cave with his fingers.

“Ah, I can’t imagine those would do much damage to something as big as you.” The man said as he heard the heavy clang of iron.

Sithero laughed, a deep rumble that shook Raphael’s bones. ‘I don’t underestimate humans! You little things can pack a punch.’ He growled as he leaned in close to the wary man, who stiffened up. The kraken’s breath tousled his brown hair, which was slicked back with a green and white bandana.

“… You’re so big, though. I mean, look. Your tooth is bigger than my head!” Raphael said as he pointed at Sithero’s lips, where a canine poked out.

Sithero curled his lip up to reveal the full length of his canine, which shone brilliantly in the lantern’s light. ‘This is true. I could bite you in two with one snap.’ The kraken growled as he clicked his teeth together, which sent a shiver up Raphael’s spine as he glimpsed those white teeth flashing in his vision.

“You don’t… plan to eat me after all this, do you?” Raphael uttered, feeling absolutely minuscule in his little wooden boat underneath the giant’s gaze.

‘That depends, do you consider the ride in my mouth as being eaten? It’s the only way you’ll be able to exit this cave.’ The kraken grinned as he licked his lips with his yellow tongue.

“Hey, I really don’t want to go back in there. I know it’s what kept me from drowning, but…” Raphael sighed, glancing at his provisions soaked with the kraken’s saliva.

‘Feel free to try another way out.’ Sithero growled as he looked down at the man’s supplies. Curiously, the giant picked up Raphael in his boat and lifted it up to his eye.

“Hey, easy!” The man yelled as he was rocked by the momentum of being lifted.

‘Is your stuff ruined?’ Sithero asked, eyeing the cloth sacks on the bottom of the boat.

“That’s just my food… well, what’s left of it. The bread is probably all soggy, but as long as the rum is there… aha!” Raphael exclaimed as he produced a green glass bottle filled with spirits. The man popped the cork and took a swig straight from the bottle, sighing happily once he removed the glass from his lips.

‘Humans are always drinking that.’ Sithero chuckled, holding Raphael in his wooden boat.

“I suppose they don’t make bottles in your size. Good thing, too, cause I’d be swimmin’ in it.” Raphael laughed as he kicked back in the boat and continued drinking.

Sithero couldn’t help but smile as he cupped the boat in his palm, eyeing the human inside of it. The giant tilted his head, observing the interior of the rowboat, suddenly getting an idea.

‘Come here.’ He growled, using his other hand to pinch Raphael’s upper body between his thumb and forefinger. The man exclaimed as he was lifted out of the boat and placed directly onto Sithero’s palm, holding tight to his rum bottle.

The kraken placed the empty boat on the cave floor and turned his gaze to the human in his hands, suddenly feeling very warm at how small and delicate he looked, laid out on his palm, barely half the length of his finger.

Raphael sneered up at the giant, briefly attempting to stand up before flailing and falling backwards, spilling a little rum on himself.

“Gah… you big beast... I didn’t ask to be in yer hands!” Raphael blurted as he wiped the rum off his shirt, glancing up at the giant’s piercing gaze.

Sithero merely chuckled, rumbling deep in the back of his throat as his soft gaze took in the man’s form.

“Ah, to hell with it. You’re pretty nice, for a sea monster. Besides, if I’m gonna be eaten, I wanna be drunk.” The man grunted as he sipped his rum.

‘You look very relaxed.’ Sithero uttered as he held his hands steady, with one cupped under the other. The giant was mostly submerged, with just his upper body resting on the rocky cave floor, propped up by his elbows.

‘I’ve never held a human like this. It’s… nice.’ He rumbled, awed by the sight of Raphael leaning against the base of his fingers.

“Ya keep looking at me like I’m… a doll or somethin’. S’weird.” Raphael hiccuped from his lack of inhibition.

‘Don’t tell me you have a problem with the way I interact with tiny things such as yourself.’ Sithero laughed. ‘I’m aware that humans consider me to be frightening and dangerous, while I personally consider humans to be delightful. I think you should be grateful that I’m holding you this way instead of drowning you a thousand feet under the sea.’

Raphael blinked, staring blankly up at the rumbling giant. By now, he was able to understand the enormous kraken’s growling manner of speech. However, the alcohol was slowing his cognitive thinking more and more each passing minute, leading him to respond with a simple “Fair enough.”

Sithero smiled, regardless, and cupped his hand loosely around the human as he pulled his hefty body further onto the cave floor. Raphael grumbled as he was closed in by enormous fingers while the giant made himself more comfortable, turning onto his back and propping his body up against the cave walls.

The kraken sighed as he leaned back, leaving his long tail submerged in the dark ocean water while his upper body relaxed and cupped Raphael in his hand, which rested comfortably on top of his stomach.

Raphael, in drunken bliss, hummed as he was held by the giant. He laid back in Sithero’s hands, his head nestled neatly between the cracks of his fingers. The man sighed, feeling the warmth of skin underneath him, the rush of the giant’s breaths and gurgling insides.

“Hey, I forgot yer name. Sithy.” Raphael muttered through flushed cheeks, his rum nearly gone. “You’re pretty swell. I ain’t got a home or family or whatnot, so this is a nice treat… s’like I’m in a fancy rich bed. Heh heh.”

‘Sithy, huh. I kinda like that.’ The kraken chuckled. He then leaned forward and carefully plucked the nearly empty rum bottle from Raphael’s hands with the tips of his claws. ‘And, that’s enough for you.’

“Gimme that…” Raphael groaned as he reached for the bottle, which promptly disappeared in the giant’s mouth.

‘Hmm.’ Sithero rumbled as he rolled the open bottle on his tongue, spilling the contents out and onto his taste buds. ‘You made it seem so much tastier than this.’

“It IS tasty. Don’t guzzle my rum!” Raphael grumbled as he wobbled onto his legs and attempted to scale Sithero’s torso.

‘Careful.’ The giant growled as the drunken man ignored him, stumbling his way up the firm musculature of his abdomen. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’

“Gimme my bottle back…” Raphael slurred, clinging to the giant’s pectoral. The slope of the monstrous man’s chest proved difficult for the small, drunk human to navigate over.

Amused, Sithero leaned back all the way, laying flat on his back to allow Raphael to stumble along his body. With the bottle still in his mouth, Sithero tilted his head up and opened up slightly, allowing the determined man to see the prize within reach.

“Ya don’t take a man’s rum, Sithy…” Raphael grunted as he stumbled against the giant’s lips, feebly reaching into the open mouth with the bottle resting in the middle of Sithero’s tongue. With a gentle tilt, Sithero scooped Raphael inside his mouth with the end of his yellow tongue, rolling him onto the center.

Once Raphael got a hold of the empty bottle, he groaned, hugging it to his chest and rolling over inside Sithero’s mouth, curling up where he laid and promptly passing out.

Sithero, with his mouth slightly open, breathed evenly. His tongue quivered as Raphael’s small body curled up on top, unbothered by the saliva. He slowly shut his mouth, cupping his tongue to give the human space inside. He was so much smaller without his boat, something Sithero was painfully aware of. How easy it would be to swallow him whole, he thought.

‘Raphael.’ Sithero rumbled, his tongue shifting as he spoke, which stirred the inebriated man. Raphael responded with grumpy grumbles, no longer coherent or aware of his surroundings.

Sithero sighed, deciding that it was inevitable, now. After all, Raphael climbed right into his jaws.

With a tilt of his tongue, Raphael was slid down the center, his unconscious body passing the giant’s tonsils, entering his esophagus.

A gentle gulp, and Sithero tilted his head back and squeezed Raphael down his throat. The man groaned as he was swallowed, his body engulfed by wet flesh that slid him easily down the giant’s gullet, though not much could be done to slow his descent.

Sithero sighed warmly, placing the tips of his fingers against his neck as Raphael went down, forming a solid bulge underneath. The kraken growled, humming softly as the warm little human was taken into his innards.

After a little while, Raphael had been squeezed down the entire length of Sithero’s esophagus, where he was slid into a warm, wet chamber within the giant’s ribcage. The man gasped a little and moaned as he suddenly felt sick to his stomach after being tipped upside-down.

He had been swallowed, yet Sithero knew he was safe. The kraken’s stomach was multi-chambered to fill his enormous body cavity, with only the lower portion unsafe for passengers. Satisfied with the feeling of a warm, living body squirming in his belly, the giant set his head back on the ground and stroked his stomach fondly.

‘Nothing for you to stumble on and get hurt in there.’ Sithero uttered as he traced his finger along his abdomen. ‘Just don’t be mad at me when you wake up.’

Raphael passed out not long after, blissfully unaware of his surroundings, sleeping rather soundly and comfortably surrounded by soft flesh.

The night went on, though the two were far from the stars. Under the waves and buried under earth and rock, the underwater cave was a safe haven devoid of sunlight. Only bioluminescent plankton, algae, and jellyfish provided any form of light.

Sithero was first to awaken, his massive form turned onto his front as he arched his back in a stretch. The giant rumbled softly as he placed a hand on his stomach, feeling the tiny presence of Raphael inside, still fast asleep.

The kraken took the opportunity to gather the rest of Raphael’s belongings, placing them carefully into the wooden boat, along with some trinkets and treasures from the shipwrecks. He then picked up the boat and placed it inside his mouth, taking care not to swallow any of the tiny human objects.

Sithero slid his huge body into the pool of the cave, sinking below the surface and back into the tunnel towards the cave entrance. His yellow eyes adjusted to the light that illuminated at the end of the cave, indicating that morning had come.

Still holding the rowboat in his mouth, the giant emerged from the cave and swam upwards, surfacing along the rocky cliffs of the landmass above the submerged cave that he called his home. Gulls cried as the kraken’s enormous head scanned the coastline before heading towards a sandy beach.

Sithero huffed as he heaved his monstrous body onto the sand, removing the boat from his mouth and placing it gingerly on the shore. He blinked calmly, placing a hand on his stomach again, determining the best time to let Raphael out.

‘Are you awake?’ Sithero growled, patting his stomach. A soft squirming inside of him told him that the man was at least stirring, no doubt hungover.

“Ughh…” Raphael groaned, rolling in the glowing interior of the giant. He opened his eyes briefly, shutting them quickly when he was met with nothing but soft yellow hues.

‘As much as I don’t mind this, I think you need fresh air.’ Sithero sighed as he straightened his back and flexed his stomach, the soft folds compressing around Raphael as it pushed him upwards and into the giant’s esophagus. Not long after, Sithero leaned forward and allowed the human to slide into his mouth, completely soaked in saliva.

The giant held his mouth open, allowing the cooler air to fill the inside, chilling Raphael awake. The man woke with a jolt, eyes wide and dizzy as he took in the frightening view of enormous, sharp teeth encircling him.

“Oh, god.” He uttered, covering his eyes with his hands, incidentally bumping the empty rum bottle against his skull.

Sithero calmly tilted his head down and slid the human onto his palm, who was still clinging to the bottle. ‘Hmm, you got your rum back after all.’ The kraken chuckled.

“How… much did I drink…” Raphael groaned, tilting the bottle upside-down and dropping it in defeat. He wiped his forehead and neck, wincing at the gooey saliva coating him.

‘Nearly all of it. How do you feel?’ The kraken growled as he peered at the soggy man in his palm, expression softening at how disheveled he looked.

“I… I’m fine.” Raphael groaned as he rolled over in the giant’s palm, averting his gaze from the morning sunlight. “How long was I… in your mouth?”

Sithero blinked, unsure of how much Raphael remembered from last night. Did he have no recollection of climbing directly into his jaws and promptly going down his throat?

‘Ah, a good while. You should wash off.’ Sithero uttered as he turned and placed Raphael on the sand beside the water, who stumbled directly into the surf, submerging his entire body as he fell face-first.

Sithero watched the man slump into the ocean, jolting as he reached for him and promptly plucked his limp body out of the waves.

‘That’s one way to get clean, I suppose…’ The giant grumbled as he held Raphael between his thumb and forefinger, letting him drip onto the sand below.

“I’m awake, I’m awake…” Raphael groaned as he squirmed in the giant’s fingers. “You… ugh, you ate me, didn’t you?” He uttered as he pointed a finger at Sithero’s enormous striped face.

‘I don’t know what you mean.’ Sithero chuckled deeply as a tiny finger wagged at him.

“You swallowed me!” Raphael blurted.

‘Ah, that I did. Big difference.’ The kraken replied.

“What d’ya mean? I was in your stomach, you tellin’ me that’s not eatin’ me?” Raphael retorted, wriggling defiantly, though weakly.

‘You weren’t digested. Silly thing.’ Sithero rumbled as he set Raphael on the seat of his rowboat. ‘I intend to keep you safe, and that is what I did. Now settle down, drink some water.’

“What water? All I got to my name is…” Raphael trailed off as he looked down at the floor of the boat and saw that it was filled with a generous pile of assorted treasures, from necklaces and coins to daggers and swords. His green eyes glittered with delight.

“Is this all for me?” Raphael asked up at the giant, his tone vastly sweeter than before.

‘Yes, don’t go spending it all in one place.’ Sithero rumbled as he stretched up and glanced around, scanning the horizon for ships.

“I dunno what to say… this is all so… it’s enough to get me some land and my own ship!” Raphael exclaimed as he pored over the treasures. “How could I ever repay you?”

Sithero shrugged as he returned his gaze to the gleeful human. ‘No need, I enjoyed our time together, after all. I only ask that you visit me, should you find yourself in this area again.’

“That’s more than fair… are you leaving, then?” Raphael asked up at the giant, who leaned close to him and smiled.

‘Does Raphael want me to stay?’ The giant chuckled, more so when Raphael’s face flushed pink.

“I-I don’t wanna keep you… I also enjoyed our time together, though perhaps the rum is to blame for part of that…” Raphael said as he stared at the giant’s enormous lips.

‘Don’t worry, I know just what to do with a drunken sailor.’ Sithero winked, and Raphael’s heart sank into his chest.

“… Any chance you got rum on you?” He said shyly, rubbing his hands together in his lap as he looked up at the giant.

‘Sadly, no. Make sure you bring enough for me next time, though.’ Sithero said toothily as he tapped his enormous finger on the end of Raphael’s boat.

“So, tonight?” The man said, holding his breath in his chest.

‘Tonight.’

[wodeworm]

Omukade - 大百足 This rare and illusive mountain roaming yokai, often resides in dank humid abysses beyond the sight of rational beings. When finally coaxed from these hellish pits, they become a threat to every being in an area, more akin to natural disasters. So vulgar and great is the threat posed, even dragons are not safe from a venomous mauling, with an exoskeleton un-pierceable by known weapons. There are some whispers of a possible poison humans regularly produce that can kill them but accounts are unclear as to what it is. Fewer tales still, tell of heroes of ages past taking down these reviled beings in single combat and being granted boundless boons. It is finally told that these monstrous leviathans have no known size limit but can presumably grow, devour and produce their acrid venom without end.

[xjulixred45x]

OKEY I know I should be working on JJK's other works now, but I have to talk about Helluva Boss as someone who studied the Divine Comedy (a work that Vivziepop based on to create hell and some characters) and say that it is INCREDIBLE.

First of all, ASMODEUS AND BEELZEBU, I saw a lot of people confused about why they seem like good people while Mammon is an idiot, but it is actually something that is repeated in the book in a way, let me elaborate.

In the divine comedy, the sin of lust is just below purgatory, that is, it is the first sin, the first circle, the least serious of all, and contrary to what some believe, they are not people like rapists, but people who did "inappropriate" or taboo sexual acts for the time (such as sodomy), had sex before marriage, "forbidden" romances, etc.

Even the punishment given to these people is that they are separated into the air with hellish winds, and just when they are about to come into contact with someone/the person they love, they are separated at the last moment. My teacher even said "the worst punishment for lustful people was to have the person they loved within reach and not be able to touch them."

Which fits Asmodeus very well! we are literally told in the show that it is the least threatening sin of all. It's quite appropriate. Don't talk about the relationship he has with Fizz, I mean did you see how he was when he was kidnapped? He almost went crazy.

NOW WHAT I WANTED TO TALK ABOUT, THE BEE DESIGN.

Many, and I mean MANY, people complained about the design, I get it, it's a bit overloaded. but i was also able to find a VERY good reference to the Divine Comedy that somewhat excuses her appearance as a dog rather than a bee.

In the divine comedy, the Gluttons endure an endless hail shower under the ATTENTIVE EYE OF CAN CERBERUS.

CERBERUS.

The legendary 3-headed dog! Because yes, in the divine comedy they put several characters from various mythologies (although the Greek one was Dante's favorite, since Charon, the old man who passes souls to the other side of the Acheron river, also appears).

I think it better explains why they decided on that design for Bee and her attentive attitude towards the people in her circle. After all, gluttons eat without measure and don't know when to stop, but in theory Cerberus prevents them from escaping the circle, so Bee prevents them from reaching that extreme.

Regarding Mammon, I can see why they made him an idiot, in the divine comedy the greedy were seen as plainly selfish who withheld their goods or squandered them without control, it is something that you cannot get anything positive from (not like being a glutton at parties or being lustful for your partner for example). I really like that they made him a pure and simple villain.

and my last comment regarding the serious work of the circle of laziness, yes, we barely have anything, but from the little I saw, I already have a reference.

The people in the circle seem to be amphibians or reptiles, even fish (except for the goat doctor), which is quite ironic considering that in the book the sloths are constantly DROWNED.

(EDITH: I FUCKED UP, THE FISH AND AMPHIBIANS ARE FROM THE ENVY RING, FOR THE LEVIATHAN, NOT FROM THE SLOTH, THE ONLY FISH THAT IS FROM THE SLOTH IS THE SHARKS, SORRY ABOUT THAT ONE)

ahghg sorry you have to put up with my fangirling over La Divina comedia and Helluva Boss, I know many hate the series but I love it.

I'll write something about JJK soon, don't worry. Love ya.

[ryverbind]

Faceless Fixation (Sal Fisher): Cut Me, Hurt Me, Use Me [26.2]

Sal's Lore Part 3

------

TW: substance abuse/addiction, su!c!dal thoughts, and mentions of self harm

++++++++

Chains gripped him, held him down under a torrent of consistent, suffocating, and lethal waves of affliction. It was a plague that had been taking him over for decades now and he wondered how he hadn't become used to it after all this time.

Every time it started to get bad, he shattered under the weight of realizing 'again.' He was trapped again. A victim of his own torment. He tore himself down, stripped himself of dignity and of hope. 

This time, he didn't care where these abyssal waters dragged him.

Sal's rapidly deteriorating life was transforming into something monstrous and untamed. He no longer recognized himself when he looked into the mirror-- not that it mattered much in the first place. He hadn't recognized himself since he was five years old. 

He stared blankly at his ceiling. Counting the stained tiles and filing through arbitrary numbers and combinations in his head no longer aided as a distraction. The only savior in his life happened to be the one thing that would tear him down for good. 

When he tried it the first time, upped his daily dosage of anxiety medication to three pills rather than one, he was thrilled. Finally, a solution to his mental torture. He had fallen into a near drunken state, his head clouded with fog and for once, not so many worries captured him so devilishly. 

Since then, he had slipped into a hellish routine. Wake up in the late afternoon, take much more of his medication than he should have, then he'd nap for hours or dissociate beneath his duvet. What else could he do to occupy his miserable days? The woman who assaulted him was in prison, but she wouldn't remain there forever. She wouldn't be there for nearly long enough.

All Sal could do was painstakingly count down the days to her release-- when he was sober enough to do so, of course.

When he would regain a bit of his clarity come nightfall, when the moon and stars occupied his empty days, he would stream. It was never for long-- he couldn't bear to engage in something he couldn't find it in himself to love anymore. She had stripped him of the few things he had once adored.

His birthday was approaching. He would be twenty two. In his past years, he feared the fated day. What if everyone forgot about him? What if no one wished him a happy birthday? But this year, he didn't even consider that, nor did he care. So what if everyone forgot him? He was beginning to forget himself too.

Sal glanced to the side, the weight of his own head too much for him to carry with benzodiazepines coursing through his veins. His internal enemy had transformed into his friend-- the medication he cursed for so many years had become his safe haven. He beheld the bottle, wondering if he could turn the pills inside into an eternal bed for himself. He could rest. He could finally leave it all. 

All the elderly scholars claimed that Aphrodite had been the greatest temptation, but Sal had found a substance that topped the goddess in that department.

He didn't want to continue in a world where he wasn't even living. Why continue to suffer when everything could be silent forever? 

The monster that haunted Sal laughed at him, mocked him as it towered over his limp form on the bed. The wispy trails of its shadows slithered around Sal's body, only adding to the chains that stood out against the fresh cuts along his skin. Its wicked grin failed to strike fear in Sal's heart this time. He looked at the abomination he was destined to become and didn't cower. With each passing day, he assumed he wouldn't be alive long enough to see this empty shell of a creature he'd eventually turn into. The land-born leviathan that made his life into a laughing stock had nothing on him if he could end it before it began. 

Sal lazily glared at it-- at the imitation of himself-- while his hand stumbled around his dresser for the bottle of medication.

"Sal?" Three knocks sounded on his bedroom door, painfully echoing around the dark vignette of his drugged mind. The bottle clattered to the floor. "Wanna come out with me and Lisa for dinner tonight?"

It was his father. Sal bit down on his scarred, chapped lips as the hallucinations of his greatest fears, conjured up by his own mind, dissipated into nothingness. Gone like that, in the blink of an eye. He cursed the odds. How come he couldn't fight his own battles?

He swallowed against the dryness in his mouth, waiting for an excuse to come to him. "Not tonight, dad. I'm still feeling a little sick." He slurred, giving his father the usual excuse, claiming he was suffering with allergies.

A muffled, defeated sigh. Sal waited with bated breath for his father to leave. The sooner the better. He didn't want the man who raised him to see him like this. He didn't want anyone to see him this way, which is precisely why he only left the room in the dead of night and early hours of the morning.

"Son," the words were gentle, sad. "Talk to me, please. You've told me you're sick for months now. I know that's not it." 

Sal gulped over the lump that suddenly formed in his throat, cutting off his airways. Tears sprung to his eyes, but he stayed quiet.  

"Your friends say that they don't see you anymore. You don't answer their texts or calls. Hell, you don't even open your bedroom door for them." Henry's voice cracked, the sound causing Sal to launch into an upright position. His weak arms were barely able to catch his weight when the room began to spin around him.

Sal squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to clear his head, to right himself. His dad was outside his door, close to tears. He hadn't seen his father cry since the passing of his mother.

And his friends. Every day, without fail, they would try. Ash messaged him at least three times a day, called a couple times. Larry, Neil, and Todd would knock on his bedroom door to check in once or twice each. He would ignore them or give excuses every single time. He knew he was letting them down, but in this state, he didn't want to see them. He didn't want to see anyone.

"We have Gizmo at the apartment." Fuck, Gizmo. Sal's little man. After the first few days of falling into himself, Sal started asking Larry to take care of his cat in his stead. He didn't have the strength to look at his boy knowing that the feline could sense his downward spiral. "He's been with us for a few weeks now. He misses you. We all miss you."

Sal dropped his face into his hands, his fingers quaking with the revelation his father had bestowed upon him. Leaving his friends and family behind was already one thing, but the cat who saved him? He felt terrible. The monstrous version of himself was right for cackling at him. Sal was a pathetic excuse of a human.

"And I just want you to know that I love you. You're my boy, Sal. I adore every bit of you and I desperately wish I could hold you in my arms again the way I did the day you were born. With your little hands and feet." Henry took a deep, shuddering breath. "You know, I'm proud of you. You're talented at so many things. You're polite, you're strong, you're kind. Despite all the obstacles, you've... you've pushed through it and you've become a wonderful man. I'm proud of you, and I'm proud to call myself your father."

Sal felt a sob working up his throat, his heart pounding inside his chest. He gripped the front of his shirt in weak hands, squeezing the fabric as the pain of causing his father so much anguish became too much to bear. 

Hot tears slipped down his cheeks and he sniffled, feeling attacked by the onslaught of guilt, of fear, of regret. He thought he had conquered these emotions, finally beaten them. It created a hole in his heart, forced a deep ache to surface in his chest. Everything his medicine was meant to do failed on him now as harsh pants wracked his body, his thoughts on a rampage and his body suffering the consequences of the abuse he put himself through. 

"Sal," his father's voice was a bit frantic now. Sal knew he could hear the breakdown he was tumbling into. "Please, buddy. Let's talk. Let me help you."

Sal rushed to stand, his legs too tired to support him. He stumbled to the wall, another agonized sob breaking past the barriers he thought he'd built up. His hands trembled against the white wallpaper and he used it to guide himself to his awaiting father. He needed to get to him, tell him he was sorry. Tell him he loved him, beg his father to forgive him.

He gasped for breath, his chest so tight and his mind so muddled with negativity that he couldn't take a full breath. He was slowly slipping beneath the waves, barely able to keep his head above water.

Sal didn't let the terror of leaving his emotions bare to his father stop him when his quivering hand finally wrapped around his doorknob, unlocking it the moment he realized he'd had it locked for two days now.

He ripped the door open, the wood slamming against his bedroom door viciously.

Henry stood past the threshold, his eyes red-rimmed and a lone tear running down his flushed cheek. Sal was sure he looked much worse than his father, especially when Henry's gaze softened into something somber, something far more heartbreaking than the word 'sad' could truly encompass.

Sal launched at his father, wrapping his arms around his waist and squeezing. Henry rubbed his hands up and down Sal's back, trying to soothe him, comfort him in the only way he possibly could.

"I'm sorry," Sal cried, his tears wetting the front of his father's shirt, his shame leaking onto the solidity Henry brought him. "I'm so sorry."

The grief that overtook both Sal and his father weighed even more than the after effects of the drugs he had been abusing for so long. Burdened them more than the depression and pain that Sal had been suffocating with all this time. All of his problems were sharp pins and he was the voodoo doll. It all came back to drown him-- and now it was drowning the people he cared about most.

Sal spilled everything the moment he and Henry sank to the floor. He relived the exact moment he confessed what had happened to Ash just a few months ago. Once was enough, but twice couldn't be a coincidence. 

How many times was Sal going to blame his bad luck before he could finally see that he was the one tearing himself apart now?

On the floor, a heaping, sobbing mess before his father, Sal wondered how he'd be able to pick himself back up whenever his actions had thrown himself down this way. Henry tried to tell him he understood, that Sal was never to blame. That Sal never deserved all these things that happened to him. But Sal had resolved his mind to one thing-- falling apart in front of his father like this was something he never wanted to do again. Ignoring his friends and family, neglecting his Gizmo. They were all things he never, ever wanted to do again for as long as he lived. 

He didn't know if he'd get better, but the least he could do was try, right?

With Sal's permission and a conversation with Lisa, Henry helped in admitting Sal into a rehabilitation clinic.

It was the scariest and most revitalizing thing Sal had ever done for himself. Even if he wasn't sure about what he wanted from life anymore, it at least showed that some deep, hidden part of himself wanted to live. Maybe not for himself, but for those around him, at least.

Sal made some friends during the weeks that he spent away from streaming and away from the temptation of tearing himself apart. The first week and a half was miserable. He had to learn to survive without the help of more drugs than he needed. The dosage of his anxiety medicine was lowered to better accompany his journey toward healing. Worst of all were the constant headaches and nausea of withdrawal. Part of him believed his attempts to improve were in vain, especially during the sleepless nights where, sometimes, he could hear that monster clawing at his barred windows.

But, then the headaches began to go away. He was able to eat more than just crackers and soup once a day. He felt like going outside, walking around the garden that his clinic had. And, damn, he felt like talking when he and his hall-mates would meet with a counselor to discuss their day and their thoughts. 

Not being alone in his darkness inspired him. And that was when the writing began.

Sal's pen flew across the blank sheet of paper he had taken from the lounge down his hall. It hadn't been the first time he'd done this-- the past week, he had filled up a full stack of paper with words that came from the darkness that had tainted him for all these years. 

This paper, though. This one mattered the most.

He hardly had to think, his gaze flying across the page and his pencil scratching against the paper. It just came so easily to him.

"Preserve my youth Through words I write-- Forbidden truths Soaked with venom in the night.

Enslaved to my pen, Chained in this cage; Ink stains on my skin For my friends beyond the page.

Blood soaked rose thorns And bones for my quill-- Trapped in beauty that adorns The violence of a kill--"

Sal blinked when the paper slipped out from beneath his pencil, no doubt leaving a long, graphite mark across the page. 

He whipped his head to the side, looking at his roommate who pursed his lips at the paper. Sal relaxed a bit upon seeing him. He may have been Sal's roommate, but he'd also quickly become a friend. Quite a curious friend, at that.

Sal didn't know much about him, but the man encouraged his healing habits. That seemed like reason enough to consider him a friend.

His friend picked up another paper that lied on Sal's small desk on his side of the room. He glanced over it, his lips quirking up in a little smile. A smile that made Sal suddenly grow nervous. Poetry wasn't new to him, but he hadn't realized he had such an affinity for it until he'd come to rehab. His counselor had instructed his group to write a poem about their healing journey a week ago and Sal realized he'd loved the escape that came with it. It was about as freeing as playing his guitar, but much more creative and meaningful than the mediocre poetry he'd written before this.

Sal snapped himself out of the memory when his friend began reading the words on the page he'd just picked up. 

"Look at what I've become-- My mother's careful knitting is undone. Sixty stitches and a price never paid, Might as well have sliced me with a blade.

All gaping wounds and pity, Disgust has never looked so pretty. My own disgust or theirs;  Or is it just hospital rooms and wheelchairs?"

Sal snatched the paper back before his friend could read anymore. This one was personal and he didn't want all of his internalized anguish out in the open.

"That's enough," he rasped, tone quiet. 

His friend frowned. "It's good stuff, Sal. Don't be ashamed." Sal took a deep breath, trying to ignore the way the man's smooth, captivating voice seemed to lull him into feeling false confidence. And still, his friend continued. "Why don't you like people reading your work? You didn't read yours during the meeting the other day."

"It's embarrassing," Sal grumbled. He could feel his cheeks burning up beneath his prosthetic. "Give me the other."

His friend raised a defiant eyebrow.

Sal rolled his eyes as anxiety gripped him whole. He gestured to the paper and, through gritted teeth, forced out, "Please."

His friend grinned at him. "I'll give it back under one condition."

Sal sighed, beginning to grow frustrated, but he heard his friend out.

"Whatever the issue is, whether you're just shy or if you don't want people to see the scary parts of yourself, your poetry's good. That's undeniable." His friend's grin softened into a reassuring smile. "I have a band back home. We're just starting out. Why don't you write music for us? It would give us an excuse to be friends after all this."

Sal's lips parted in surprise. Write music for a band? He hadn't considered giving his poetry to anyone.

Sal's voice was hoarse as he managed to say, "I-- I don't know..." His poetry was his. He felt possessive of it-- he couldn't possibly let anyone else express his mind, even if it were through sound, could he?

His friend shrugged, handing his poetry back to him. "Think about it," he said to Sal. "No one has to know you write the lyrics. Might be a good way to express yourself and heal, you know? Music has been healing for me. Maybe it can do the same for you."

The man gave Sal a gentle smiled then walked out of their shared room. Sal watched him leave with ideas swirling around his head. 

Recently, he had begun to see a light at the end of the tunnel. Eating properly, going out into the sun, admiring the sunset, reading literature and poetry, writing poetry again, making friends... it had all begun to mold into this infectious hope. Something he thought he would never, ever feel. And now this opportunity to write music for a band... he felt like he was standing at the door that let in all the hope that swelled within him. He just had to choose how he would walk through that door and if he would take the offer his friend extended to him.

The tides had turned. Maybe music could be an escape for him again.

He thought about his friends proposition, considered his options, thought about all the other things he could do in his life. He thought about his friends back home, thought about his streaming career, other projects he'd been working on before things started to go downhill.

He made his decision, but he'd talk to his friend about that later.

Until then, he'd scratch away on his paper, pull the last broken bits of him out of his body and splatter it against the page.

------

A/N:::::::: i know this lore chapter isn't long, but the next one while be a little lengthier!! :3 i also think the next one will be the last for sal's lore as well.

as always, i'd like to address the heavy hitting topics included in this chapter. we've explored sal's suicidal thoughts before, so the main focus here is his addiction to his medication. As many of you know, there's been an opioid and drug epidemic in the US that has been around for over a decade now. many doctors abuse the option for medicine and prescribe it when it is not needed, or they prescribe much more than needed. of course, many people do need their medicines-- i'm one of them. the issue lies in the possible effects not being explored nearly enough. opioids, OTC's, and prescription medication can be very addictive due to the job that they do to regulate our system. it creates something of a euphoria or an escape when taken in excess and that's where the addiction can begin. while i'm not knowledgable enough on the topic to say much more about it, it is something i'd like to raise awareness about. addiction is heartbreaking, life-altering, and crippling. my father fell victim to addiction-- to the same type of medication that i've had Sal take in this chapter. it broke my family apart and it broke my dad. witnessing him slowly falling apart and being away from him during his time in rehab has completely altered the trajectory of my life. seeing his tears as he finally came to understand what had happened to him is genuinely some of the worst pain i think i've ever felt. i'm very happy to say that my family has been back together for a few years now and Father Ryver is doing so much better, but i can't say the same for other victims of addiction, especially considering that my aunt is going through the same thing right now.

remember that you are NEVER alone. i see you, i hear you, i love you. addiction is no one's fault, nor is it something to feel guilty over. it's a horrible thing that can happen during attempts at healing or completely unplanned, but it isn't forever. pain is temporary, love is forever.

if needed, i did some research on international hotlines as well as some in the US:

USA - Emergency Substance Abuse Hotline: 1-800-662-4357 EUROPE - Samaritans: 116 123                      Give Us A Shout: text SHOUT to 85258 AUSTRALIA - Sane Helpline: 1800 187 263 CANADA - Wellness Together (for mental health and substance abuse): 1-866-585-0445 or text WELLNESS to 741741 SOUTH AFRICA - Narcotics Anonymous: 0861 00 6962 NEW ZEALAND - Alcohol and Drug Helpline: 0800 787 797 PHILIPPINES - Substance Abuse Helpline: 1550 INDIA - National Toll Free Helpline: 1800-11-0031

anyway, as always, all my love to you darlings! stay true to yourself and stay strong. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!! have a lovely morning, day, evening, night <333

[bite-sized-devil]

💕 Love letters 💕

Written as an add on to @crazyyanderefangirlfan idea posted here

Summary: yeah as if I'm writing that, check out the original post if you want info. And then hit like and reblog because it was such a good idea! Love you Yan 💕💕

Lucifer: Little dove, I see the effort you put into your studies and extracurricular activities. Your achievements should fill you with pride, as having you as part of my family fills me with pride. Forgive me, love. You mean the world to me.

Mammon: If I'd a known those notes were from you MC I wouldn'ta reacted so dumb like! I fish'd 'em outta the garbage, just so ya know. They're keep'n Goldie company. Say, you wouldn't wanna write another one would ya? I'll keep it like it's my most prized possession. Like how I'd keep you. I love you

Leviathan: My first stalker turns out to be you MC? That's like, straight out of one of my favourite animes where the hero keeps getting these notes left for him to find and it turns out to be his childhood friend who he's been in love with for years but he was scared she didn't feel the same- anyway I miss you MC, please come play games with me again. I won't stop sending you these little notes until you agree! I neeeeeeeeed my player two.

Satan: Dearest MC, I am filled with the utmost rage and regret at my inability to determine that those notes were from you. Please accept my most humble apology, I'm sorry my love. Going forward I would request that you sign them, not necessarily in your name but a simple signature so that I can determine their origin. For example: signed kitten. Yours eternally, Satan.

Asmo: Screaming! Crying! MC! You are such a naughty little thing, sending me love notes and not signing your name. How am I supposed to know which of my admirers they were from? Darling, next time you want to write me a note, just come to my door. Let's save the trees and skip the paper altogether. Love letters are so much more fun when they are written in kisses on the naked skin. 😘😘

Beel: Doesn't write you a note, comes to you in person later that night standing in your doorway. He's so big but looks so small in that moment, giving you puppy dog eyes as he clutches your smaller hands in his. "MC are you really over us? Because I'm not over you. I'm in love with you, I want you. Always. I kept every note you gave me. I knew they were from you, I know your hand writing and I know your scent. Please forgive my brothers, they're sorry, I know they are."

Belphegor: I'm always making mistakes with you MC, would you forgive me again? Please, I'll beg if I have to. Can I make it up to you? I'll do anything for you, kill for you, give you anything you want. Just, say you'll forgive me. I keep having nightmares about you leaving me, forgetting about me, hating me, and yet it's still not as hellish as hearing you say you're over me. I'm sorry MC, I took you for granted and swear to you I never will again.

What do you think Yan? Begging is a good colour on them. Kinda dig that 😅☺️😘

@delphi-dreamin @sassykattery @alexxavicry @your-next-daydream @rosanism @marvelous-maniac @i-hardly-know @kyungjoon-do @ria-demon29 @itsmeninerz @allielozoya @spookyscaryskeletonn @zarakem @tea-time-writes @ladyofcrowsx-deactivated2023040 @yuujispinkhair @attic-club-sandwich @whimsiecat @bontensbabygirl @beelzebubneedsabeelzehug @lostsomewhereinthegarden @simpsations @randomnerdthingz @weeb24555

[sebbiesolace]

The PA system in the room crackled, a voice familiar to EXR-P's and MTF, HQ speaking over the commotion as he observed from the safety of his office.

"All units be advised, Z-13 is armed and dangerous, don't make yourself an example of why you shouldn't get too close to it. Remember your orders - shoot to kill"

As the PA system shut itself off, a brief"and what the hell is Z-13 wearing..." Could be heard as HQ's voice cut out.

( @h3ad-quarters )

@lenoraven

[Any trace of humanity was long gone as the animal snarled, stooping protectively over its kill. It tore off an arm, a sickening crunch echoing through the room as the bone snapped, blood splattering onto its skin.]

[Any animal, when trapped in a corner, will fight. They will gnash their teeth and strike out. Any Animal.]

[Warnings to stay back fell on deaf ears, gunshots ringing out, mixing with the noises of a beast to create a hellish cacophony. And bullets hit their mark, rendering the leviathan scared, in pain, and angry. Not the fury of a human, not the rage of a man, but the frenzied, incoherent madness of a trapped animal.] OOC: this functions as a reply to 2 asks im sorry im sorry

[mossdaggar]

HELLWHALERS!

An indie TTRPG of nautical and Christian religious horror. Play as damned whalers, set upon the seas of hell, hunting a monstrous leviathan in a bid for redemption. Gamble with souls, discover the horrors of hell’s oceans, and fight a demon whale.

Features bespoke linocut work by Albert Johnson and Charles Torok, as well as public domain depictions of demons and sea monsters, curated and laid out by Kaye Mahoney, this will be a gorgeous collectible for any fans of its themes.

The game itself uses tokens in a Belonging Outside Belonging style, but allows players to gamble tokens on a dice metagame. With a digital board by Tony Girard, online gameplay is as hellishly beautiful as it is in-person.

Guiding the whalers is the captain, a foul tempered figure who might just be the devil himself. The gm takes the role and leads players on the hunt for the hellwhale. Includes a playbook for the gm to use the captain to best effect.

Within the captain’s quarters is the hellwhale’s disembodied heart. The black, rotting muscle sits silent, but awaits the moment you’ll feed enough souls through its arteries to call the hellwhale by its own slow heartbeat.

Expect tons more content, like blessings and curses, hellish locales, gnarly items to dredge from the inky deep, a multitude of six-segmented storylines, several possible epilogues, and more, largely written by the talented BogusCheesecake. HELLWHALERS is coming this Summer.  It’s drawing close. See you in hell.

[parad-ice-lostandfound]

Todoroki!MC

Prompt:

Pairing: OM!Brothers and GN!MC

Genre: NA

TW: My hate for Endeavour is very clear, no good feelings towards Endeavour here, idk what else-

“Hey, MC.”

MC looked up from their D.D.D to Satan. It was one of the rare days in the HOL where all the brothers would be gathered in one room without fighting. As peaceful as the atmosphere was, MC had a feeling the next few minutes could very well throw the entire room into chaos. “Yes Satan?”

“I know you told us about how the humans have ‘quirks’ now, but you haven’t really talked about your family. Considering you have both ice and fire power, your family must be incredibly powerful.”

MC scoffed, turning their attention back to their D.D.D as they said, “What’s there to talk about? My dad’s a power-hungry asshole who’s now the substitute for the No. 1 Hero, my mom’s in the mental hospital because of him, my eldest brother Touya who was thought to be dead is now a villain, Natsuo’s never home anymore because he can’t stand the sight of dad, Fuyumi’s trying to keep this dysfunctional mess of a family together, and me and my twin Shoto have enough trauma to last us for a few lifetimes.” Their venomous words caught everyone off-guard, and for a few moments only the sound of the fire crackling in the fireplace could be heard.

Clearing his throat, Lucifer asked, “ What do you mean MC?”

Sighing, MC decided to tell the brothers about their dad’s obsession with All Might, their circumstances and reasons for birth, and the hellish training they underwent in order to 'surpass All Might.’

Lucifer

What in the three realms-

Lucifer looks calm on the outside, but inside he’s seething with enough rage to create another Satan.

After everyone has gone to their rooms for the night, he calls MC to his office and asks MC if they want to visit their mom and siblings, reassuring them that he won’t let any harm befall them anymore.

Reminds them semi-regularly that they are their own person, and that he’s proud of them.

Decides to schedule a visit to the Human Realm in the near future to deal with MC’s dad. And when I say this demon’s gonna drag Enji Todoroki’s soul to the pits of hell, you best believe me.

Mammon

What the hell did this human have to endure wtf-

His first reaction is to scoop them in a hug, mostly to calm himself and remind himself that MC's here with him, they're safe, and that there's no immediate danger.

Becomes hella protective of MC, more than he already was.

Hates their dad more than he hates debts, you best believe he’ll be looking up ways to make Endeavour’s life miserable

Becomes a little more mindful of MC, if they look even the slightest bit uncomfortable he will do whatever is needed to make them feel comfortable.

He reminds them that they should do what they want and what makes them happy. Anyone who even thinks of forcing them to do something will have to go through him first.

Leviathan

Levi subconsciously transforms into his demon form when he hears of this

Why did his Henry have to suffer all that? Sure all protagonists have sad back stories, but MC’s so kind and nice to him, a yucky otaku who’s always holed up in his room. It’s not fair for them to have gone through all this!

Offers to feed Endeavour to Lotan. He’d do anything for his Henry after all.

Now, whenever they hang out, Levi is extra mindful of his words and temper, since he doesn’t want for MC to be scared of him or hate him.

Satan

So MC hates their dad? He can relate with that-

No but on a serious note, he’s worried about MC. Also feels kind of guilty for asking-

He’s also seething with anger at things MC’s said.

No one deserves to go through such toxic situations, and certainly not his MC.

Teams up, albeit reluctantly, with Lucifer to teach their dad a lesson for hurting MC.

A little curious about their family, and asks MC about them in private. Do they miss them? Who's their favorite sibling? Do they want to visit them? Surely Lucifer would allow it if they really wanted to.

Makes them read books with the found family trope and reminds them that him and every single one of his brothers would kill for them. His wording and tone may be a bit too intense for their liking, but his intentions are pure :)

Asmodeus

Gasp! How dare that man hurt his cute little munchkin?!

Yeah, Asmo is not happy with Endeavour one bit. After all, hurting the second most beautiful being in all three realms and the holder of his heart is a grave crime!

Will team up with Solomon to absolutely ruin Endeavour’s name and influence, just give him the word MC~

King of self-care. Will have spa days with MC where he’ll reassure them that they are their own person, not a tool to surpass someone else.

Beelzebub

So MC has a twin? They must be missing him so much-

That’s his first thought, seeing as how much he missed his own twin when Belphie was imprisoned in the attic.

The second thing that he feels is worry and sympathy for MC and the rest of their family.

Their dad must have been horrible, if MC’s words were anything to go by.

“I could eat him if you want me to MC. Though I don’t know if he’ll taste good, since he’s such a rotten person.”

Would like to know more about the rest of their family though, especially their twin.

Belphegor

He’s convinced that all of humanity is bad now, stop him before he goes on a killing spree-

Becomes clingier. MC should expect him to be hanging off of one of their arms at all times. Naptime is now all the time MC, don’t resist him.

Offers to help them if they have nightmares. Man’s the Avatar of Sloth, dreams and nightmares are under his jurisdiction.

Asks a bit about their family and whether they wish their twin was here. Depending on their answers, he debates whether to ask Lucifer to bring their family to the Devildom to keep them safe.

Won’t exactly go up to the Human Realm in order to hurt Endeavour like Lucifer and Satan, but if Enji mysteriously gets insomnia or terrifyingly realistic nightmares, well, what does he know of it?

[leviathans-watching]

torture, is that you?

day 7: free day

includes: beel & belphie

wc: .6k | rated t | m.list

a/n: this was so fun to write ngl. and this is the last part for @ombrotherlylove2023!!

Belphie yawns as he steps into the cool morning air, taking in the fog lining the street. He can’t remember the last time he was up this early. 

“You actually made it outside,” Beel says appraisingly, looking him over. Belphie was dressed in a mishmash of workout clothes–Asmo’s sweats, one of Mammon’s t-shirts, and a hoodie of Beel’s somewhat swallowing him. “I’m glad the clothes fit.” 

“Yesh,” Belphie says through another yawn. Beel is way too chipper for it to be this early. “Why am I doing this, again?” 

“Oh, come on, have a better attitude than that. I promise you’ll like running. It’ll probably help you sleep better, anyway.” 

Belphie frowns. “I sleep just fine.” 

“Whatever, we’re doing this,” Beel says adamantly, motioning for Belphie to join him on the–ugh, gross–wet lawn. Couldn’t they have at least done this on a nice morning?

“It’s so beautiful out,” Beel hums, inhaling deeply, and he has got to be making fun of Belphie right now. What is wrong with runners?

Beel leads him through some warm-up stretches, and though he feels a little silly doing the dynamic ones, he sees it through anyway. Beel is taking the time to do this with him, and as much as he doesn’t want to, he’s not going to scorn his brother’s hard work. 

“Wow, you’re super flexible,” Beel compliments at one point. “Must be because of all of the weird positions you twist yourself into when you sleep.” 

“Ha ha,” Belphie says, breath clouding up in front of his face. 

Once they’re all warmed up or whatever, Beel explains the proper running posture, something Belphie didn’t even know existed. Couldn’t you just like… run? 

“Alright, let’s go,” Beel says, and Belphie reluctantly prepares himself. It’s only a mile, right? He can do a mile.

He cannot do a mile. 

“Beel,” he gasps. “Beel, I can’t breathe. You can, ah, go on ahead. Just let me catch my breath. Fuck.” 

“You’re alright,” Beel says, slowing to a stop. He’s not even the slightest bit winded. “Deep breathes in and out. Try not to pant. And,” he continues, “as much as I love you, this is just sad. We’re like, a block from the house. I can still see it.” 

“Shut up,” Belphie manages between breaths. “I told you, running’s not for me.” 

“Aw, come on,” Beel puts a hand on his shoulder, “it just takes some work. Everyone starts somewhere. And consistency is the most important thing. More important than ability, or skill, or even improvement.” 

“I don’t want to be consistent,” Belphie whines says like a mature adult. “I want to go home.” 

“Too bad,” Beel says. “Now come on. We can go slower, though. We’ve only got–” he checks his watch, “–point eight miles to go.” 

Belphie mutters some choice words under his breath but follows, hoping to god he doesn’t pull something. 

*

“I can’t move,” Belphie groans, everything aching. He’d made it through the hellish run but apparently, that wasn’t the end of the torture for him. 

“Yeah, your muscles probably aren’t used to doing that much work,” Beel says, and only the small smile he can’t quite hide tips Belphie off that he’s being made fun of. 

“Asshole.” 

“I’ll grab you an ice pack.” Beel stands, and Belphie glowers up at him. 

“Better make that two, dipshit. I’m never running again.” 

“That’s what you think,” Beel mutters ominously as he disappears towards the kitchen, and Belphie shouts after him. 

“Hey! Hey, Beel, what do you mean by that? I’m not running again, ever! Hey, Beelzebub, answer me!” He lets out a growl of frustration. “Goddamn it.” 

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

[scalpho]

when do all of these fusions first emerge? How often do tbk fuse?

some of them do first emerge during freshman year, but i think the majority of them would first appear in the lull between prom and sophomore spring break - tbk are all decently close friends by that point, so have the bonds and time to just fuck around and experiment with the fusion stuff. others do appear even later

cig is definitely one of the first to emerge - fig and gorgug probably spontaneously fuse during one of the band's very early practice seshes. he makes a comeback during prompocalypse to summon gorthalax. i think it'd be very funny if captain made an almost-appearance while gorgug and fabian are beating the shit out of each other not even five minutes after meeting, but he certainly doesn't manifest in any stable way until much later on. kristen's first fusion likely happens in the downtime during fy where like half the pcs are living in the strongtower luxury apartments, and it's probably with either fig or adaine (and i imagine both fusions have happened at some point before the end of fy). prez's first appearance is probably when riz and kristen interrupt sandra lynn and garthy on leviathan. tangential to tbk but goragh fusion first appears when they kiss at prom. i know that barely even begins to cover everyone but. Gestures vaguely. yeah

tbk fuse pretty often! fighting as individuals has its merits too, but they will fuse for battle when the situation calls for it (and by jy pretty much all their fusions, especially the ones that more frequently make appearances in battle, are stable enough for fusing/unfusing to be a smooth process even in high pressure situations). some bad kids fuse recreationally. fisten (fig + kristen - yes she's aware that her name sounds vaguely inappropriate, yes she loves it and thinks it's hilarious, yes nobody agrees with her on that) is often around because fig and kristen just enjoy hanging out like that. when kristen and tracker are dating they probably stay fused most of the time. cig pops out for most cig fig related things. captain does the same for bloodrush, and prez for campaign stuff in jy, and they all tend to stick around for a while after whatever they were brought out for is done. If riz and adaine are working on something together, they'll often fuse for a fresh 3rd set of eyes. depends on the time, too: during jy where they all get very busy, fusing becomes a more infrequent occurence because they just don't spend as much time with each other, but in the stretch of time where they were hunting the night yorb they probably fused almost constantly - both for adventuring purposes and because it offers a welcome change from the hellish monotony of the same six people on the worst road trip of their lives with virtually no private time

[thunderlightning351]

Gym Buddies (Beelzebub x MC (self insert) x Diavolo) P1

It was another bright and beautiful day in the Devildom, Clover, originally a human transfer student had long since graduated, deciding to stay in the devildom, as she found peace in the hellish place. 

The morning went as it normally did, everyone got up early and gathered around the dining table before one of the brothers would go and make breakfast and coffee. In today's case it was Beelzebubs turn, the avatar of gluttony; after saying good morning he went to the kitchen and set to work, everyone else now expecting large portions for the morning which they would definitely need, especially Clover. 

As expected, the meal was huge, several trays of sausages, bacon, eggs, hashbrowns and pancakes; Beel had really outdone himself this morning and most of the food was left untouched which was a funny yet rare case from the glutton. Everyone served themselves their portion, something everyone had grown accustomed to after a failed attempt of one slightly clumsy human trying to dish up food on eight separate plates. 

Clover hummed as she served herself breakfast, several eggs, pancakes and bacon, the main go to during the situation. Looking around at the brothers she smiled warmly, already hearing chatter between Satan and Asmodeus while Lucifer tried to stop himself from bickering with mammon. A wise idea. Beel looked over at Clover, admiring her silently before perking up when Leviathan asked about everyone's plans for the day. Mammon and Asmo were going shopping together, Lucifer had to do some work for Diavolo, Belphegor was going to nap, Satan was going with Levi to a bookstore, their reasons similar yet opposite and then Beel spoke up between mouthfuls of food. “I’m going to be in the gym for a few hours, weights this time” he stated as if it were second nature, clover then perked up. “Oh! I’ll come with, I want to get some cardio in'' For a human she wasn’t the fittest person the brothers had ever seen, they loved her how she was but wouldn’t stop her from doing as she pleased, with some restrictions of course. 

Beel smiled and nodded quietly in her direction before the room went quiet, everyone focusing on breakfast, enjoying the food on their plates; any leftovers would surely be eaten later in the day anyways. Slowly one by one the brothers finished and departed from the table to attend to their plans, Beel rose and went to Clover, taking her empty plate before she could stand “I got it” he mumbled before gathering the rest and taking them to the kitchen to be cleaned later on. Once he returned he walked with Clover to the home gym, recently having better equipment put in because some of the machines couldn’t take Beels strength or weight limit. With a smile they went into separate changing rooms, getting into their gym clothes before remeeting in the middle of the room. Clover took a breath “Right, well I’ll be on the treadmill for a little while then” Beel nodded silently in response, eyes watching as she turned around and walked to the equipment, it took a moment for him to shake his head and snap out of the trance like gaze before going and collecting some hefty dumbbells from the stands; eventually he took a seat on one of the benches and focused on arm curls, all the while watching Clover as she started at a walking pace on the treadmill.

As time slowly carried on and the workouts commenced Beel found himself unable to look away from Clover, unsure if it was his growing infatuation for the human or the need to make sure she was safe while working out, either way he was watching, smiling softly to himself as they continued. Beel soon finished his reps and out the dumbbells away at this opint clover had worked up to a jog in a small incline to push herself however that was short lived as she soon jumped off, going to the gym fridge and immediately drinking from a bottle of water from the inside. Feeling refreshed she approached Beel who was now sitting on the bench press station, she sat on the mat beside the equipment, looking up at him fondly, sweat already showing on both of their bodies. 

The two sat quietly for a moment before the girl piped up “Need me to spot you?” She asked, kindness laced throughout her soft voice, Beel was about to speak before the gym door opened and closed. In walked Lord Diavolo, in full gym gear, looking around before spotting the pair and walking over with a grin. Clover was confused about the Demon lords presence but shook it off as it was common that Beel would invite Diavolo to join him if no one else would, or if Diavolo remarkably had time off from his regular duties and today was one such day. “Good to see you both” Diavolo stated, dropping his bag off to the side, he then walked behind the gear, ready to spot Beel as the ginger demon got prepared to bench press the weight above him. Clover shrugged her shoulders, used to the boys just getting to business as it was. 

She slowly moved away, deciding to focus on doing stretches and several yoga poses, relaxing her body after doing the cardio, with fond eyes she watched the two boys go at it, Beel, as usual did an incredible job, unafraid to show his strength in the gym setting while Diavolo watched over him carefully, prepared to do anything if Beel needed him. It was a rather attractive sight. Likewise for the boys watching Clover over sparing glances made their bodies feel hot, thoughts hazy while watching her stretch carefully, almost elegantly. After several impressive reps the boys swapped over, Diavolo on the bench and Beel spotting for the young lord, Diavolos strength was also a sight to behold, benching almost the same as Beel if not a few barely a few kgs less. Clover soon finished up her yoga, taking a good fifteen minutes to relax and ease her body from the stress of the previous cardio, she sat up and watched Diavolo do the last of his reps before the prince set the bar back on the stand and got up, him and beel clapping each other on the backs for such a good workout, albeit a little short but just enough for the two of them.

(Please like for the next part :D)

[hwascripts]

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♡=Fluff ¹⁸⁺=NSFW♤ =Angst ♔=Old Work ✎=Rewritten ♢=Crack Fic

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