#i reckon satan has a similar thing going on

[journey-to-the-attic]

yk i just recently saw that episode where belphie goes on his “i am the eldest brother 🤩🤩🤩” song and it just made me think abt how much he likes being an older brother :(( reminded me of jtta!!!

i didn't know about that episode til now (and i watched it definitely very legally) but oh my god that was incredible

that aside, you're so right!! belphie loves getting to be the teasing big brother, so (though he'll never say it), he absolutely treasures getting to play the role for ik

[weepylucifer]

Hey. I've really been thinking about my faith and just like, religions in general lately so I wanna ask people whose opinions I care about some stuff. Like, are you or were you ever spiritual and/or religious? How do you feel about organised religion as a whole? If you don't mind sharing that is

Firstly, it is wild to think that I'm someone whose opinions someone cares about. Kneejerk reaction to reading that was "is this some kind of copypasta or bot" bc generally nobody has ever cared what views I have on anything in the world. Maybe this is a copypasta or bot and I'll see a post about "the copypasta that asks people their religion!!" later and feel embarrassed for answering. Or maybe it's some kind of bait. Still, if you're a real person out here... of all the blogs you had to walk into mine (I said this in a gritty noir detective voice)

Probably I'm going to be unhelpful here bc my relationship to religion is extremely vague. I'm a natural doubter, and raised by atheists, so I feel a bit ridiculous when trying to pray or observe religious "rites" (for lack of a better word)... it feels like talking to something that'll never reply, bc maybe it's not there? Or doesn't exist on a level similar enough to talk/have any tangible influence on my life?

On the other hand, I wish I could buy into the whole thing enough to allow earnest, wholehearted spiritual belief into my world. People who rest secure in their faith are people whom I kind of envy! My mother always speaks of religion as inherently oppressive and ridiculous and I think it's a really annoying, narrow-minded viewpoint. Ideally, organized religion without oppression can be and should be completely possible. Maybe it means churches have to distance themselves from missionizing, bc the root of all ill that's done in the name of religion (any) seems to be trying to force it on people who don't want it. I'm in no ways an expert.

Was I ever adherent to a religion... I tried. I was/am Luciferian. I started this as a teen, for all the typical reasons edgy teens become Satanists. I revisit it sometimes now, because all flavors of Satanism are such artifical, made-up constructs that they demand no certainty of me, and I think that's funny and fascinating. For many, it's more an attitude towards the self than a belief that the devil is real. I live with that as the little spark of magic I allow myself without becoming a fuckin internet witch. Sometimes I try to act like Lucifer is real and listening, bc why not at this point, and I wear my sigil necklace when I'm out and about, and I let my general pro-devil-stance inform my literary analysis which I hope to make my career. And I generally try to live my life in a way that would intrigue a heretic angel. Idk if that's the same thing as believing.

That's more or less my story. Not very helpful to anyone on the search for clarity in their faith, I reckon, because I have no clarity to offer. The question of "how do I stand on religion" is one I constantly put off dealing with. If I have any advice at all, it's that the thinking human is always beset by doubt and controversy. It's fine to not be 100% certain in what you're doing. It's fine to be in negotiations with your faith or your deity. Religion is for humankind, like society and law, we created it to help us. It exists for us, we do not exist (only) in service to it. In the end, what you gotta know is, "Does believing [x] or following [y] add something to my life that I think is worthwhile? Does it help me somehow? Does the help outweigh any harm that might exist?"

[obeiii-mee]

The Brothers stopping MC from sacrificing themselves (Alternative Ending): Part 2

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So uh…this took me long enough to finish….hah.

I don’t know what to say besides I’m sorry for the long wait. I’m usually pretty critical of my work and as a result I end up rewriting and editing a bunch of times. Which takes longer for me to finish for bigger requests like these. I did try my very best to make the last part of this series good but I’m a little iffy with how Asmo’s turned out, even though I’m pretty proud of the one I did for Satan. I hope guys enjoyed reading as much I did writing this :)

As usual, get the tissues ready because writing this one for the twins hURT

“MC tries to sacrifice themselves in order to revive Lilith. The following brothers catch them red-handed….”

Characters: Satan, Asmo and the Twins

Warnings: Mentions of gore, blood, attempted suicide, breakdowns, etc. Don’t read if you’re sensitive to this sort of thing.

Part 1 (Lucifer, Mammon and Levi)

———————————

Satan

-“MC….I…”

-If he had been delayed and arrived two minutes later than intended, then you would’ve been dead. That sounds really harsh and by all means it isbut sugar coating the situation wasn’t going to magically fix anything; your arm and your fragile human life hanging on by a thread included.

-It’s a fucked up ritual, uncommon even amongst demons due to its unpredictable behaviour around individuals and the way it reacts with magic as a whole. That’s how you label a spell, or rather a curse since its effects are negative more often than not, as dangerous; if Lord Diavolo himself, the Prince of DevilDom and soon to be the King of its inhabitants, struggles to deal with the aftermath of such powerful curses then no one else really has any business coming in contact with them.

-Now, Satan is aware of all this because he would’ve had to study such topics for school on several occasions. Divination, witchcraft, history of spells, etc. These are all subjects he excels in and has put a lot of time and effort into understanding the concepts between each one. Knowing this, it’s only reasonable to assume that you only survived because he was so well-versed in curses similar to the one you were trying to cast. By the time he got to your room, you were already leaning towards the latest stages of the whole process and it’s generally harder to recover when your body and soul go that far along in cases like this.

-Luckily, you were still conscious. For the most part, that is. As long as you didn’t slip into any kind of critical condition, he was confident that he would be able to heal you in due time. Your wounds were bad but they could’ve been a hell of a lot worse so he reckoned treatment would go smoothly from then on out. Though, Satan isn’t the most optimistic to begin with. The stress was basically eating away at him, tearing him into smaller and smaller pieces until he was left with his thoughts. And the bloody dagger he found next to you.

-He was panicking. And, if you had to guess, he was getting very close to the edge of an angry outburst. You could tell by the constant muttering and laboured breathing as he tried to cauterise your injuries before you bled out. Despite the heavy steams of rage radiating from him, his hands were steady and calculated, doing everything methodically because if he skips even the smallest of steps, it would result in your demise. As he worked on stabilising you and enchanting the room so his brothers wouldn’t come barging in while he was trying to revive you, there was nothing else for you to do except watch him. I mean, you were in some pretty serious pain and it’s been constant ever since you started so it was difficult to focus on much but you couldn’t move, which you assumed was just a side effect of the the curse.

-“MC.”

-You weren’t paying attention so the sound of his voice made you flinch. The way he said it, your name I mean, wasn’t hostile per say but you could definitely tell he was being serious and you could just feel the dread creeping up your back because an angry Satan that raged and threw stuff around was dangerous; however, a Satan that sat in silent fury was straight up lethal and you weren’t about to piss him off even more.

-“Satan…don’t freak out, OK?”

-That appeared to have hit a nerve. He stilled almost immediately and raised his head to look through his bangs at you, glare burning like charcoal despite the softness of his touch. You could argue the fiery pits of hell were present in his irises and the damnation of everyone that has wronged him, confusion mixed with sorrow and droplets of exasperation as if he didn’t understand what exactly you were asking of him. You…wanted him…to not freak out? You might as well have been on your deathbed and you were asking him to not freak out? He wondered for a moment if you realised just how ridiculous you sounded and then came to the conclusion that you were delusional from lack of rest. Or maybe you were in enough pain to start spouting all this nonsense? But he was under the impression he had already used enough spells to lessen the pain of the curse. (A demonic version of morphine if you will). Perhaps he ought to have tried a stronger spell.

-“…MC, I have no doubt that I can cure you but as you can probably notice, I’m not exactly in a position right now where I can afford to relax.”

-“I’m not asking you to cure me.”

-The bewilderment showed on his face. Satan looked at you, blinking slowly as if his brain wasn’t quite capable of processing what you just said, “What?”

-“That was the whole point of this,” you sort of gestured weakly around you, as if to prove a point even though your arm in particular was in extremely bad condition. “I thought you might’ve figured it out by now. You’re quite smart, y’know. And good at putting puzzle pieces together like a detective. You’ve seen the dagger, right?”

-In response, he furrowed his brows and took one glance at the knife again, downright confused until he spotted it; the dark aura surrounding the damned thing and the inscriptions carved onto its handle glowing slightly in the darkness of your room. There was a moment where he didn’t realise what exactly he was staring at and then it dawned upon him that there was only one thing daggers like this could be used for and it certainly wasn’t for cutting vegetables. He turned to you and this time it wasn’t uncertainty that greeted you but the purest form of indignation and wrath.

-“You…why do you…?”

-“Satan, this-“

-“No MC, why the fuck do you have this dagger on you?!” That wasn’t an invitation to answer him. I mean, you could’ve tried but he would’ve just interrupted you again and you wouldn’t have been able to get a word in. Turns out you didn’t have to. It was almost as if he already knew, as if he could already tell exactly what you were thinking, to absolutely no one’s shock or horror. As you said, he’s smart enough to figure things like this out by himself. And he did, regretting it just seconds afterwards. He was still mad but you recognised something other than anguish and fire in those green eyes of his; it could’ve been hurt or regret but you couldn’t separate the two and the next time you looked, it was gone.

-“All of this…just to bring her back?”

-You felt deflated. That was your main goal, yes; to bring your ancestor back in hopes of easing the brothers’ suffering whenever as much as her name was mentioned. That was all you wanted really-to reunite them, allow them to be with each other again or, more accurately, give them a second chance at being a family. You wanted to voice out these concerns but you could sense that Satan wouldn’t find them reasonable enough to justify your actions.

-“If this is what I think it is then I genuinely don’t have anything to say to you besides the simple fact that you did something beyond stupid. There is literally fucking nothing that could make me think otherwise, MC so don’t even try!” It was a warning, from what you could tell. Obviously, Satan did not take the new information well and now he seemed to have swallowed himself into a pit of never ending fury-the kind that won’t let others interfere under any circumstances and one that will easily consume him if left alone. The spells he placed on you were finally starting to take their effect so you no longer felt as sickly as before, which gave you just enough strength to sit up and grab his attention.

-“Satan…snap out of it. If you’ve got something to tell me, then sit down and say it already.” Your throat hurt and had a burning sensation to it every time you spoke, as if you’ve been drowning in cheese graters or something.

-There was an intensity in his stare, visibly wanting to add onto what he stated just moments prior to this but deciding against it. You could definitely see it, the battle between his logical and emotional side resisting each other. He looked conflicted. And restless. Seeing someone as collected as Satan fidgety was a new experience all together but it was on a whole other level peering at this vulnerable demon you’ve barely laid eyes upon. Surprisingly, he did sit down. Being the Avatar of Wrath meant he doesn’t take kindly to commands while he is in a bad mood but then again, you weren’t ordering him to do so. If you were, he would’ve had to obey without a choice. Now, however, he willingly dropped himself onto the seat next to you even if he was gripping its armrests as if his life depended on it. Or rather, as if your life depended on it.

-You half expected him to turn into his demon form but he didn’t and instead spoke whilst trying not to snap at you too much, “I never met her. Our sister, I mean. She was gone almost as soon as I got dragged into this existence by Lucifer’s hatred towards his Father. I don’t know her.” His teeth were gritted and now he was back at checking your injuries, in fear you might’ve moved around too much and opened them. He only seemed satisfied after he ensured you weren’t slipping into a critical condition. “I don’t know anything about her; and I don’t suppose I ever will. Even though they talk about her all the time. And it’s so frustrating-to hear about this person that I don’t know but was apparently the reason for my creation.”

-You thought he might’ve been crying, but you couldn’t get a good glimpse at his face since he was still fussing over you and tightening the bandages he wrapped around you earlier. His voice was wobbly and you didn’t know either; had no idea what he was going to do next. Teeth gritted, he roughly ran a hand through his hair, trying to ignore the blood splotches covering it-your blood, “I don’t know her…but…there are times where I can feel her.”

-He stopped and placed hand over his chest, his nails digging into his shirt as if trying to stab his way in. The action seemed almost unsettling because of how aggressive he was being. “Times when I look at them and I can’t understand their sorrow or what the hell they’re feeling and yet I still find myself resonating with them all. It hurts. To the point I want to claw my heart out because it’s too much to deal with and then I try to understand but I still don’t. I know that she was my sister and that in exchange for her, my brothers got me instead. I know…she was kind but that’s mostly because that’s what I’ve been told, not because I’ve experienced it myself. I know she was important but I don’t know her and so the only attachment I have with her is spiritual. And that’s it.

-You struggled to listen to him and even as you did, you had no idea whether to laugh or cry. You ended doing a mixture of both, weeping and breaking into laughter at how ridiculous it all was. With pools gathering at the corner of your eyes, you rubbed them away with your fists as harshly as you could. His hands reached for yours, and you stopped. Talk about an unexpected turn of events. You were so sure of yourself just a few minutes ago and now you were forced to wonder if maybe your reasoning was wrong. Because Satan told you so and you trust his judgement more than you trust your own simply because he’s the smartest demon you know.

-“MC.” He said again, his wrath dissipating almost immediately as he traced your palm with his fingers subconsciously, “It would be…great if I could see her. At least once. I do want to know her and it’s hard not to when you live with my brothers. But not by trading your life away. That’s all I have to say about the matter.” Satan moved from your hands to your face, gently cupping your cheeks. You couldn’t tell if he was being affectionate or inspecting it for any signs of sickness, “I love you. So please, just…don’t leave me behind like that. Just…don’t. Stay here.”

-You wouldn’t have been able to leave even if you wanted to because he was still holding you and showed no intention of giving up any time soon. There was an urgency to the way he did it, and you guessed that he was still feeling antsy about the whole thing. All you could do was in lean on to his touch and nod your head. Things escalated so quickly, your brain really couldn’t keep up with all of the emotions you felt during this whole encounter. So, you cried properly this time around and he pretended not to notice as he continued to embrace you, allowing your thoughts to settle in properly before any further discussion was made.

-The Avatar of Wrath knows better than anyone else how overwhelming it is to be compared to someone you don’t particularly want to be associated with. Growing in Lucifer’s shadow since the day he was created was more like a cruel joke to him, and he ached to know you had similar experiences, to the point you were willing to exchange your life away just like that.

-There aren’t enough words in any pre-existing language on this Earth that could describe the pure rage he knew coursed through him at the very thought of you being dead, how lonely he would be once you were gone for good and how much he would miss your presence. He couldn’t let that happen, and to prevent this, he would need to keep a closer eye on you. After you were healed of course! And Satan was going to make certain your recovery would be quick-no matter whose blood he’d have to spare for that to be possible.

Asmo:

-“MC? Oh…”

-There was a lot to process at once. It would seem that he stumbled across something he wasn’t supposed to see-the atmosphere felt heavy and he could feel a draft coming from what he assumed was an opened window. From what he could tell, and that wasn’t much since his eyes filled with tears before he had the chance to straighten his thoughts out, his poor human was extremely sick.

-Honestly, there wasn’t a better explanation for the paleness of your skin, or for your bloodshot eyes or the dagger that you were weakly holding in your hand. Actually, the knife didn’t make any sense whatsoever but you knew it wouldn’t take long before he figured it out. You felt a lump form in your throat at the sight of Asmo panicking his way inside. It didn’t help that you dropped the knife as soon as you made eye contact with him so now he definitely took notice of it.

Obviously, he rushed to your side almost immediately and didn’t even give you a chance to explain yourself. You could tell, however, that he was freaking out because he was babbling something alone the lines of ‘reverse spells’ and so on, which meant Asmo could probably sense the magic used in the room. The dagger was the final act of the ritual but now it was lying on the floor and the fifth-born kicked it too, for good measure. It skidded across the floorboards and as it did, the sound made you cringe. Everything was too loud and you felt overwhelmed and dizzy and as if you were floating. You weren’t dead, of course but the curse had already taken its toll on your body and now you were starting to feel the effects.

-“MC?! Oh no-this…this isn’t right! The concentration of the magic in this room is too much for a human to handle, no wonder you are so ill! We need to get you out of here soon, otherwise….otherwise…!”

-You kind of wanted him to shut up. He was making too much noise. Still, you could feel your throat burning up and for some reason, you couldn’t speak no matter how hard you tried to get the words out. As if that wasn’t enough, you could feel pressure on your chest and now that you were aware of it, it made it harder for you to breathe. It almost felt as if the air itself was poisonous and your lungs were basically on fire for some reason. Then…you just passed out. You didn’t slowly drift off or anything, all of a sudden your vision just went black and then you were out for good.

-Thinking about it now, you must’ve been unconscious for days on end. I mean, you were stuck in a sort of dream-like state for what felt like forever. Moments passed by too slowly and you couldn’t do much besides sit and listen to the occasional sounds coming from somewhere farther away. Even when you did, eventually, wake up, things were still hazy for you. You knew someone was forcing some kind of medicine down your throat but other than that, you couldn’t tell much about your surroundings since they were too blurry to make anything out of them.

-In any case, the treatment must’ve been going well because you regained your senses soon afterwards. Or most of them, anyway. Nothing was blurring out anymore and your hearing seemed to have stabilised, more or less. You weren’t exactly healed yet but at least you weren’t writhing away on the floor anymore, in absolute agony. You don’t remember what happened after you lost track of everything back then. If you had to guess, Asmo called his brothers and you were carried to your bed, which is where you woke up to begin with. You imagine they were all freaking out pretty badly but the thing that confirmed this was the fact that your room was a total mess. Usually, this means the brothers all trampled over it in their frantic attempt to save you. Honestly, nothing was where it was supposed to be anymore.

-Apparently, from what you could gather, Lucifer and Satan were the only ones tending to you on a regular basis, with the occasional Mammon stomping in and demanding to see you. You figured that was reasonable enough-they were kind of the only ones with expertise on the matter of keeping you alive and you assumed they’ve already had doctors (both demon and human) check on you several times a day. They told you’ve been out for a few weeks and that even though the progress is slow, you’re getting better. Weirdly enough, they didn’t question you too much about what happened but there was no way in hell they didn’t already know. Either because Asmo told them or because they came to that conclusion themselves. It was the two of them that treated you up until now, so it’s not that incomprehensible.

-You didn’t get to see Asmo until a while later. Simply because your room was sealed off from everyone else to reduce the amount of physical and mental strain on you. By the time you were fully capable of moving your arms by yourself again and sitting up without any kind of support, Lucifer and Satan both relented and allowed their siblings to visit as often as they deemed fit.

-You really thought the twins or Mammon would be the first to rush in and see you but instead, it was the fifth born that came running in with tears streaming down his face and his make up all smudged, hair ruffled and disheveled as if he hasn’t been taking care of it for ages. It made you uneasy-to see him like this, knowing how much he values self care and looking after himself. In a way, it was hard for you to admit he was going through all of this because of you. And the thought made you frustrated since you’re the one that elicited such a reaction from him whilst you were trying to fix everything.

-“MC…I….I WAS SO WORRIED ABOUT YOU!-“

-Before you could say anything or even contemplate on how you should answer, he lunged himself at you at full force, nearly knocking both of you off the bed. Despite this, he didn’t back off and continued to cry into your shoulder, tightening his grasp on you the harder he sobbed. You didn’t know how to comfort him besides returning his desperate hug, and you didn’t have much to say either. So, you stayed in that same position for what could’ve been hours, until your hands were stiff and Asmo didn’t have the strength to cry anymore. His body was still shaking, even as he pulled away and sat down next to you, eyes downcast.

-“Asmo….I’m sorry.”

-Your voice was barely above that of a whisper, as if anything louder than that was going to set him off into a weeping fit again. In all honesty, you don’t recall a time where you had be this careful around Asmo or be as wary of him as you were at the moment. That’s probably because he was the type to make the people around him feel at ease; like a special skill he possessed, the ability to spread his cheerfulness and attitude towards others. Well, that’s mostly due to his charisma but nevertheless, the point still stands. Watching him dig himself deeper and deeper into despair and sorrow was horribly painful since it was a clear contrast to his usual self. You apologised but the words were hollow knowing that you had caused this and a simple ‘I’m sorry’ wouldn’t cut it.

-He was silent for several more beats. Then, he raised his head and something didn’t feel right about the way he moved. Even as he shuffled around, his manoeuvres came off as mechanical, lacking any sort of flow or appeal and overall…dull. Now that he wasn’t sobbing his eyes out and you could get a good glimpse of his face; he seemed tired. Wary and aggrieved and terribly sad. But mostly tired.

-“MC…do you realise how scared I was?“

-Your turn to stay quiet. His voice was tight, and that’s how you knew this was going to end in tears again. Without much of a warning, his arm shot out and he grabbed your hand, gripping as hard as he could and almost crushing every bone in there to nothing more than powder.

-“Because I was petrified. Because…because you were sitting there, not moving and I didn’t know what to do. Because…..I….I genuinely thought I was watching you die-“

-There was nothing to say to that either. You couldn’t find the words for it and you decided you didn’t need to. Asmo was pouring his heart out to you and your own chest was hurting again, the stinging and pinching from earlier came back, and this time you knew you were just overwhelmed hearing him falter as he spoke. You could feel something warm trickling down your face and onto your lap, but you wiped the tears off before more followed and composed yourself. This wasn’t the right moment to cry about anything. If anything, you had to let him say his piece and move on without interruption because no real progress would be made otherwise.

-“MC…whatever reason you may have…if you try something like this again, I won’t forgive you. Ever.”

-This was unexpected. From the moment he entered the room, it was obvious that his feelings of dismay have already consumed him for more than just a few days, judging by his appearance alone but also by the toned down version of his mannerisms and speech. It gave the impression that he was a lot more introverted than he actually was. The deal with Asmo is that he is, and always has been, the loud and obnoxious type, willing to be as flamboyant and extravagant as possible, which further added onto his charm. The one that sat next to you, in that dreary and even (one could say) suffocating room, was none of those things. There were still traces, of course; the reflex of his hand grabbing yours, the struggle to keep his emotions at bay and the sporadic bouncing of his leg, itching to stand up and do something. Even so, he sounded cold. And you only expected cold when you were just about ready to just die and get it over with. You did not expect it from Asmo.

-“…I was-“

-His movements caught you off guard, as they always did. You found yourself facing him as he squeezed your shoulders now, hands empty with his warmth still lingering around. Funnily enough, despite your hesitance to meet his eyes and the slight trembling of your body, you relaxed almost immediately, as if the idea of tensing up whilst Asmo was around is downright unheard of. If anything, the only thing on your mind at that exact point was the fragrance of his shampoo and the inviting softness of his skin. You could easily understand now; how he could seduce humans and demons alike by touch alone. It was tempting. And then your head began hurting like crazy, breaking the spell before it even started. Though the pain was more or less subsided thanks to the heaps of medicine you were required to take, you would get random headaches every once in a while. As a sort of reminder, you suppose, of what you did and how close you were to biting the bullet. You wanted to lie back down but he continued to clutch on to you, eyes lacking any tenderness as his face gravely morphed into one of seriousness. You’ve never seen him make an expression like that and, quite honestly, never wanted to watch him do that again.

-“I don’t care.”

-There was a certain edge to the way he said it, not taking into consideration the abrupt change in his tone of voice or the roughness behind it. He sounded hoarse, as if his throat gave out completely. Which would make sense if you took more than a minute to think about all the crying he’s done.

-“…What-“

-“I don’t care what you were trying to do!” He shook your for a bit, as if to emphasise his point and drill it into your head. “That doesn’t matter! At all! The only thing that does matter is that you never do it again because next time I…”

-Trailing off, he released your shoulders and somehow you could formulate the rest of his sentence without actually having to hear him finish it. He obviously did not want to hear anymore on the matter and you were too exhausted to persist, drowsily keeping an eye on him as he fretted around you, slowly slipping back to his natural self now that he was sure you weren’t on your deathbed. It was kind of amusing, really. How he paced in circles in front of you, loudly describing all of the spa days he was going to have with you once you could actually stand up without any help. You imagined he’d already planned about fifty different trips to the salon and Majolish in less than two minutes but you didn’t expect anything less from the jewel of DevilDom, the one demon that is argued to have more influence at times than Lucifer himself.

-There was, of course, doubt. About many things, but mostly concerning how your actions impacted the members of that household. You’ve seen Asmo in a state you never wished to see him again in; it’s a rare occurrence for him not to look his absolute best but under the circumstances, you believed you were at fault for his lack of self care. Still, his visit promptly opened your eyes and made you come to the realisation that things would’ve taken a turn for the worse if you were to actually die. What you were witness to that day; that was just a glimpse of what the future could’ve held. And it was terrifying because of how out of character it was. The idea of everything going downhill saddened you, so, for the sake of Asmo if nothing else, you attempted to refrain from giving the whole ‘reincarnation’ curse another go. Just in case.

-Eventually, after you were no longer running high on emotions, you would’ve had the courage to tell him. The reasoning behind your attempt at taking your life and replacing it with hers. How it felt as if it was your responsibility to bring them all together again. It was a hard thing to do, admitting to the belief you were basing this whole operation on. Coming to terms with the fact that it was inherently foolish. It didn’t end up changing a lot, to be honest. Asmodeus continued to feel just as strongly about the situation as he did before, if not even more so.

-Granted, now he was no longer blinded by distress or tears so that made it easier for him to understand just how much of an impact his family had on you. By all means, you’ve helped them a great deal in the past, and it’s thanks to you that he even got to see the day where his family’s major problems were sorted out. However, your consideration was starting to alarm him a little bit. This wasn’t to say that he didn’t still heavily mourn for his sister but in his mind, Lilith’s chapter was over. Bringing her back would open up a whole new can of worms that he wasn’t sure anyone would be able to handle. The bottom line is that she no longer exists. That’s it. She’s dead, and has been for a while. As much as he looks back on his memories with her in fondness, he doesn’t suffer nearly as much as he used to at the thought of her, as the wound of her demise closed and quiet recently too. He’s got you to thank for that. Which is exactly what he ended up repeating to you over and over again, as he ran out of things to say and felt as if those words weren’t enough to convince you.

-Asmodeus no longer has the strength to endure the pain he feels whenever he loses something precious to him. Time always takes something-whether that’d be status or family members or even something as insignificant as a good night’s rest, which is essentially to a demon’s natural beauty. There’s always something missing sooner rather than later. Companionship is what he craved more often than not. When days dragged out for hours and hours, and he was already spent out even if he had no reason to. You made him feel….complete, but not in the traditional way. He possibly yearns for your presence, your attention and validation, more than anything else in the world and that’s perhaps what helps him regain his strength. Being left behind again… would hurt too much so even the fleeting thought of it tends to frighten him. Even once he no longer fears for your life, he still wonders if he could bring himself to live without you there by his side.

The Twins:

-“…..”

-The stench of your room is what really tipped him off about what was going on. It is subtle, meaning there’s not much of it to begin with, but the putrid odour of rust was definitely there and only amplified by the presence of unknown magic his nose could just about make out. He could sense it, swirling around and around, corrupting the actual fragrance of your belongings and replacing it with something so foul it made him want to vomit. There’s not many things out there that can make the sixth born recoil in disgust but that fear-inducing smell has got to be in his top five and as a result, it was no wonder he started shaking long before he laid eyes on you.

-“…Beel.”

-Even from the doorway, he could see the prominent splashes of blood that stained your bedsheets and the way it continued to drip onto your carpet; a noise that could only be described as deafening because it blocked everything else out and forced him to acknowledge that something was definitely not right. Panic finally settled in and the sight of you laying there, drained and possibly in unbelievable pain, made him to ignore everything that was going on in the background, including the way his brother called out to him. From an outside perspective, he looked as if he had malfunctioned, as if he physically couldn’t handle what he was seeing. And that was, essentially, the case.

-He could feel it. The weight placed on his shoulders at the mere thought of you dying. It was heavy, the burden of your death and the knowledge that he could’ve saved you but somehow failed to do so. You were still very much alive but he imagined you as a rotting corpse for more than a second and his whole world fell apart at that dreadful conclusion. It sent him into a frenzy of incoherent emotions he wasn’t prepared for and before he had the chance to process anything, he rushed to your side by the bed in an almost desperate manner. Quickly thereafter, he dropped to his knees and reached for your hand as he carefully pinned it against his chest, grip tightening when he noticed the smear of blood on your wrist. You didn’t really know if he was crying or not but maybe you would’ve been able to tell from the shakiness of his hand on yours or by the choked sob he let out as he hung his head low, unwilling to meet your tired eyes. Because he knew…he knew he managed to fail you again, just like he did before and just like he failed Lilith all those centuries ago.

-Belphie gave up trying to get him to listen. The state of mind Beel was in could not be easily breached and there was no way he would be able to pry him off you to begin with. Attempting to console his brother would be meaningless because situations like these never have a simple answer and it’s not like he would accept words of comfort that easily anyway so keeping quiet is really the only choice he has. Better that he leave the comforting to you, though not even that may end up being enough to make Beel feel better.

-The youngest found you first, surprisingly enough. In truth, he had stomped off earlier that day after a nasty fight with Lucifer and planned on locking himself in the attic until he cooled off before he had the chance to blow up on anyone else. However, on his way there, he happened to pass by your room and as he did, he caught a whiff of an odd smell that just about knocked him over from how potent it was. Perhaps he should’ve gone to get help from the others before investigating but he entered because by then, he hasn’t fully imagined the severity of the situation.

-Safe to say, he didn’t really know how to react when he found you writhing about the floor, puddles of blood forming around you and the dagger that was quite literally stabbed into your abdomen at the time. And then, seconds after stumbling across this scene, he had a moment where he could feel it slipping. It could’ve been his own sanity for all he knew or maybe his vision was just going blurry because of the tears or the suffocating scent overpowering everything because he thought he might collapse. And he probably would’ve, had he not stilled himself against the nearest wall and allowed himself to regain his composure for a minute or two. Or, at the very least, try to take rein of his emotions again because he knew he would have to do something and soon.

-Considering he was running out of options, the only logical thing he could do was help you off the floor and onto your bed, despite your insistent protests which did nothing to ease his nerves or convince him put you down. You were talking to him by then, but he was barely even paying you any attention since he was trying to figure out how bad the wound was. Or rather…the wounds. In comparison to Satan, he wasn’t quite as educated about the nature of spells since he slept through most of those classes but he could recognise one without much of a problem. And from what he could tell, things weren’t looking good at all. As he was pondering on what should be done, Beel entered the scene and, though he’ll be a bit reluctant to admit it, his presence made him feel slightly relieved. Having to handle this by himself would’ve been too much.

-“Beel…”

-It surprised you-just how weak your voice actually was. It came out as a whisper when you really intended for it to be loud enough to be heard over Belphie’s mumbling and Beel’s quiet breakdown. Right now, you were in a rather uncomfortable position; sitting up despite your wounds hurting like a bitch, the awkward feeling of being soaked in blood and the almost vice-like grip Beel had on you didn’t exactly help either. It was difficult having to focus on all of that though, because having the twins here doubled the pace of your pulse and now you were actually wondering if your heart was going to end up leaping out of your chest with how hard it was beating. The problem was that you had no idea what to say or how to explain to them what exactly you were up to. Neither of them are stupid enough to believe any bullshit excuse you may be able to conjure in that limited time so you speechless.

-“…You guys-“

-“What the fuck were you doing?”

-His question felt more like a demand than anything else. The bite in his tone of voice was expected but it still stung to hear it; to him it may have been justified, his frustration and his need to ask you what, exactly, your intentions were because stuff like this was unfathomable from his perspective but you weren’t in a position where you could be harshly interrogated without some kind of drawback on your mental health. Having people lecture sucks. But what hurts even more is when you try to help only to elicit negative reactions from those around you. Beel turned his head around to face his brother, mouth slightly agape, as if he finally realised he was there.

-“Belphie…maybe we shouldn’t yell-“

-“How can you say that?!” Belphie rounded on his brother now, brows furrowed and his face contorting into a scowl as the tips of his ears began to redden out of irritation. It’s been a while since you’ve seen the seventh born express himself so sincerely. Usually he acts all sneaky-like and hides behind the backs of others when misbehaving but now he was fully lashing out and even turning on his own twin of all people, “Look at them, Beel! They are, quite literally, hanging on for dear life right now! Shit, and I don’t even know if I can hold this spell off until everyone else gets home. Fuck if I know a single thing about damaged souls! Why the fuck did everyone decide today is the best day to leave the human unsupervised?!”

-Clearly exasperated, he started pulling on his own hair, as if that would help him conjure up some kind of decent solution. Everything his mind was coming up with was half-assed and wouldn’t actually work under any practical circumstances so at one point, he just groaned and smashed his head against the wall to his left, hand tangling itself with the vines attached to the surfaces of your bedroom. For a moment, you thought he was going to try and rip them off but he just looked at you again and this time you could tell he wasn’t going to take silence for an answer. You could feel Beel’s eyes on you as well and the pressure bubbling up from the very pit of your stomach made you fumble through your words a little.

-“…I don’t know, I felt that-“

-“You don’t know? MC, that’s just bullshit.” He pointed an accusatory finger at your bleeding covers and then at the dirty dagger that remained on the ground where he found to begin with, “You can’t look me in the eye and tell me you don’t know how you got those cuts across your chest.”

-You felt inclined to zip your mouth shut and never make eye contact with anyone ever again. Moving around made your skin feel as if it were on fire and there was nothing you would’ve liked to do more than to lay down and sleep because you were under the impression you were going to black out soon. However, you could tell that wasn’t gonna happen judging by the firm hold Beel had on you. Perhaps he was afraid that if you fell asleep, you might not wake up again. You didn’t want to look at him. Instead, you dug your nails into your palm and let your eyes fall downcast, at the filthy carpet.

-“MC….”

-The sixth born didn’t say much else but it was obvious he was also expecting an answer from you. And to be honest, they both deserved one. You really wished you could’ve prevented this because it created so many holes in your otherwise flawless plan. You never intended for them to find out your motives or reasoning because you didn’t know how they were going to react. This could apply to all of the brothers but the twins especially are quite unpredictable when it comes to most matters concerning the past and Lilith as whole. Tears were pricking your eyes long before you even started speaking because it finally dawned on you that your idea ended up hurting everyone more than you wanted it to. The whole point was to help them and yet you did the complete opposite.

-“I….I was trying to bring Lilith back.”

-At the mention of his sister’s name, Beel’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped, obviously taken off guard by your words. You could feel his gaze trained on your face, searching for some sort of explanation because that was the last thing he expected you to say. In truth, he was still semi-convinced that you were attacked by some random, low-life demon scum but now that you openly admitted to attempting a ritual that was, beyond a shadow of a doubt, too much for a human like you, he really didn’t know what to think. Actually, he was pretty confused and that was putting it mildly. He didn’t quite understand what Lilith had to do with it, or why her memory had to be involved in this business.

-Belphie didn’t react as much. His expression stayed the same, though it was clear as day that his eyes hardened and that his shoulders tensed in a way that wasn’t natural his usual demeanour. You couldn’t figure out if that response surprised him as much as it did his brother because there was a tiny fragment of a chance that he already put all the pieces of the jigsaw together and processed the overall image presented him. The youngest could be classified as intelligent, if only he was willing to put in more effort towards day to day activities. You’ve dully noted that, recently, the amount of effort used in his time spent with you and Beel has increased significantly.

-Neither of them said anything. A silent agreement between the brothers, if you were to guess. Some sort of understanding. They both wanted you to finish. You should’ve known a single sentence wouldn’t be enough to quench their curiosity because that’s just how they are. Even without saying anything, they were asking you to expand on everything and go in as much detail as humanly possible. You had no choice but to oblige.

-“It’s just…I didn’t know what else to do to help and we were learning about the revival of souls in RAD at some point and I found a bunch of interesting books on the matter while studying for an upcoming exam and-shit!”

-You were getting too worked up to continue. Your adrenaline was still running high but the pain from your injuries was steadily worsening. Maybe it was just your imagination running wild, but the thought that the bleeding still hasn’t stopped crossed your mind once or twice as you reiterated your story to the boys. You didn’t look down to check and tried to keep your hands as far away from your wounds as you could. If you didn’t get this off your chest now, you probably wouldn’t be able to do it again, no matter how much the others may prod at you to do it.

-“If I died to bring Lilith back, wouldn’t everything get sorted out? I mean, I thought she might be able to help you guys a hell of a lot more than I ever could- because she’s your sister, right? I found this ritual, in a textbook I borrowed from Solomon, that talked about reincarnation and the ideas behind lost souls. Reading that got me thinking about you guys and how you all really deserve to have your sister back with you. If I only needed to sacrifice myself to make that happen, it’s really a no-brainer so-“

-You trailed off; unsure on how to end that line of thought. Suddenly, your ability to put your feelings into words disappeared and you were just left with this uncertainty about what would come next. Beel had tears streaming down his face by now and judging by the slightly wobble of his lips, you could there there more waterworks in store for him that would only lead to a breakdown of emotions.

-“You are cruel.”

-The interruption made you snap your head in the Belphie’s direction and the jerkiness of your action made you jolt because the pain was definitely not getting easier to ignore. His sharp words were a jab, or more like a full-on stab, clearly directed at you, obviously meant to hurt. It was just how the Avatar of Sloth operated, he slowly lets his irritation sizzle out of control and then he has no filter for what feels like forever, saying anything that comes to mind and what he believes to be true. The scowl on his face said as much.

-“You can stare at me all you want MC, but that doesn’t change the fact that you were making assumptions about what would be best for us! You don’t get to make that decision! That’s up to us and us alone! I’ll decide what’s fucking best for me and that’s definitely not you sacrificing yourself for my non-existent benefit. I don’t need that! What I need is for you to get this through your thick head MC, that’s it!”

-“I don’t need this either, MC. What would I do if you were to leave like this? I…”

-Following the angry rant of his brother, Beel’s slightly calmer demeanour took off guard again. His cheeks were still stained with tears but other than that, it was almost impossible to decipher the fact that he had been crying just moments prior to this, save for the glazed eyes gazing at you. He seemed to be more composed and he wasn’t shaking anymore but you could still sense a vulnerability hanging about him. You were on the losing side of this argument and yet you still had to protest because your efforts alone wouldn’t be enough to make them happy, no matter how much you may have helped them in the past.

-“Beel…you could get your sister back? Isn’t that the best possible outcome? My death, compared to hers anyway, is nothing particular special so you don’t need to feel guilty-“

-“Just shut up.” Out of nowhere, an additional hand appeared and softly dropped on top of your head, as what you could only guess were means of comforting you. You didn’t hear Belphie approach, having forgotten how quiet his footsteps could be if he wished to be stealthy in the presence of others. This was severely out of character for the spiteful seventh born, who would much rather bury himself alive than admit defeat and put his defences down. “Shut up about that. Just because I was a idiot and said some stupid things about you back then doesn’t mean you have to go ahead and parrot me like a fucking parakeet, alright? Please….”

-You kept silent after this. Really, you had nothing to refute his reasoning with. Seeing how utterly desperate they both seemed, you couldn’t bring yourself to continue because they appeared to take everything you said to heart. Besides, the pain was becoming too unbearable to tolerate so even though Belphie was still speaking, you couldn’t concentrate on a word he was saying because of it. You weren’t even standing upright on your own anymore, mostly using Beel as a support system which he noticed instantly. In the next few seconds, he helped you lay back down and touched your forehead to get a vague idea of how your fever was coming along. On the other hand, you felt as if you were drunk, if nothing else. Tipsy. Your immediate surroundings were sort of tipping over and you felt sick to your stomach. You have no idea how you could handle it so we’ll before. You must’ve been so preoccupied with the twins and defending your mindset when this all began to the point you could block out the merciless nature of your wounds.

-Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Belphie pulling out his D.D.D, trying to contact one of his brothers and inform them about your current condition, in hopes of hurrying their arrival home. After telling his twin to keep an eye on you and not let you fall asleep, he stepped out of your room, still speaking on the phone with whoever was on the other line. You were alone with Beel now and he had you pressed against his chest now, hugging you and paying any mind to the blood getting all over him in the process. You didn’t even realise he had climbed in bed with you but it didn’t matter, because whenever Beel gets clingy like this means that he’s set on one goal and one goal only. From lack of blood and the dark magic coursing your body, you were too far gone to actually figure out what he was so determined to do. As you willed yourself to stay awake and save him the trouble taking care of you, he started talking to you again, allowing himself to be speak his mind and be honest with you about his thoughts and feelings because you told him he always could whenever you two were alone. You ignored the tears gathering in your eyes as you listened and curled your hands into his shirt, even though you were already basically glued to him already.

- “Lilith’s death was the biggest regret of my life, MC. Not my fall from glory or the lost position I had as a high ranking angel. Not the fact I am cursed with this insatiable hunger that can never be satisfied or the fact that I can’t get my brothers to get along as often as I wish they would. I couldn’t reach her in time, even though I tried and I tried so hard to save them both because I knew I would crumble apart without either of them by my side. I just couldn’t. My best wasn’t enough that day, MC. But…if I can help you and if I can help Belphie too, then I’m happy. I’m happy to have you here with me and I’m happy to still have Belphie too. I’m happy you’re both still here because there’s no one else I’d rather have. And because of that, you need to get better MC. And you will. And I know it hurts. But I’ll still be here. I’ll be here and I’ll wait if I have to. And I know Belphie will too, even though he’s really grumpy right now. So don’t worry MC. I can be of help this time around.”

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This was so late but even more so than planned. I had no internet for the past week or so and as a result this post had to be delayed a bit longer. I’m really sorry for the long wait-between the lack of motivation and overall irl things happening out here, I couldn’t seem to get it finished. Nonetheless, it’s our now and I hope you all enjoy reading it :)

@hanafubukki I …uh, finished your request. Finally. After two months. And thank you for sending it to me otherwise it would’ve been lost forever, I don’t know what I would’ve done without your help so thank you 🌸🌸

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[archived-kin]

simeon with a himbo boyfriend

note from kin: once again i am writing for the boys because this fandom doesn’t have nearly enough content for them, especially for Big and Beefy Men. let them be in dating sim fandoms too!!!!!! give them more content!!!!!

anyway i’ve made you an angel since i don’t want to have to think about the deeper repercussions of what simeon dating a human would be (i mean we all know what happened to lilith when she tried it)

fandom: obey me!

character(s): male!reader, simeon, luke, belphegor, beelzebub, asmodeus, satan, leviathan, mammon, lucifer, barbatos, diavolo, solomon

pairing(s): simeon/reader but it accidentally becomes everyone/simeon’s boyfriend at some point whoops (this ended up as a pretty big block of text as a result so please let me know if you have difficulty reading it so that i can try to format it better!)

warning(s): nope!

genre: fluff!!!! fluff everywhere!!!!!!!!!

simeon thinks you’re the cutest goddamn thing in all three realms

you may be six foot four inches of muscle but to him that is six foot four inches of ADORABLE

you’re very strong so he likes to just run and jump up at you from behind and wrap his arms around your neck because he knows you won’t be fazed by it (physically anyways, emotionally is another story)

the other angels always gasp when he does this in public because it’s so far from his usual ‘poised and elegant’ thing but how is simeon NOT supposed to climb all over you like a koala when you’re so big and huggable???

simeon just really loves jumping at you like that okay

because every time he does you’ll just pause for a second and look very confused as to why your back has suddenly gotten heavier, and then you’ll turn your head, and your smile and excited little ‘simeon!!’ is to DIE for

he has to be incredibly upfront with you about what he wants because otherwise you will not understand

he has to say, word for word, “i want to sleep in the same bed as you every day” before you actually realise that that’s what he meant

the whole exchange kind of went like this:

simeon, being sappy at like seven in the morning: “i want to wake up like this all the time from now on”

you: “??? do you want me to come lie down next to you before you wake up tomorrow morning?”

simeon: “no, for the whole night”

you: “you want to wake up like this for the whole night??”

simeon: [sighs]

he also often has to be the one taking charge when it comes to physical affection  

like you’re always willing to give him hugs and carry him around and let him sleep sprawled out on your chest like a starfish and give him kisses but half the time simeon has to ask you because for some reason you just won’t do it on your own???

at one point simeon starts getting a little insecure that you don’t actually really like physical affection and are just going along with it for him

because he’s a sensible angel, he brings this up with you before jumping to conclusions

he was not prepared for you to reply that you always wait for him to confirm that he wants affection because you’re afraid that you’ll accidentally hurt him with your strength if you go for it by yourself

simeon doesn’t cry a lot but dear god did he come close that day

after that it’s just hand holding and hugs and forehead kisses galore from you and simeon couldn’t be happier

now, it’s time for a bit of backstory

you were created purely to fight during the big celestial war, which is why you are so Beefy and Stupid

the beefy is because they needed you to be both strong and intimidating, while the stupid is because they didn’t create you with anything but fist fighting in mind

during the war you were a force to be reckoned with because you could just run at and headbutt a demon and they’d immediately be flung straight out of the skies and back into the devildom

and, even better, this meant that you didn’t have to kill anyone! you could just punt them so hard that they’d be flung out of the realm where the battle’s taking place entirely

once the war was over though they didn’t really know what to do with you

you were basically just this giant baby who didn’t know how to do anything but war

so they just dumped you in a garden and told you to take care of the flowers

which was how simeon originally met you! he was taking a walk around the gardens and saw you crying over a tree that you accidentally snapped in half with your big clumsy hands

now, simeon wasn’t one to believe in love at first sight, but HOLY FUCK

if he hadn’t already been an angel in the celestial realm he’d have thought you were some divine being from the heavens

anyway long story short simeon consoled you and started helping you take care of the garden, taught you how to live a life in times of peace, spent entire nights just lying awake and thinking about your smile and your laugh and how warm your hands look to hold and how it would feel to hug you, and finally managed to confess to you without you misconstruing it as just a Friendly Act of Kindness, and now you two are the proud holders of the title Cutest Couple in The Universe

granted only asmo calls you two that but you’ll take it

speaking of asmo allow me to segue this to the rad exchange programme era

you get so sad when simeon tells you he’ll have to leave for a year

your face falls when he breaks the news and your voice is all lost and quiet when you ask, ‘does that mean i can’t see you?’

simeon is absolutely devastated

it’s like a thousand puppies and kittens are being murdered right in front of him

he nearly cries (when i say nearly i mean he does)

but he can’t back out of the exchange program now, and one year isn’t THAT much for beings that live for possibly forever, so in the end, giving you a giant hug and about a million kisses to make up for the ones you’ll miss over the coming year, simeon leaves for the devildom

he makes it about a month and a half without you before he starts getting all mopey

and you’re not doing much better up in the celestial realm

michael actually has to message simeon and ask him how to deal with you because you spend every day dejectedly shuffling around the gardens that you take care of and it’s making everyone sad just looking at you

simeon reads that message and immediately decides that either he’s going back to the celestial realm or you’re coming down to the devildom

the authorities are a little cautious about it because you’re one of the purest angels they have and they really don’t want you getting corrupted by demons

but simeon assures them that the few demons that you’ll actually be having contact with wouldn’t do that, and you’ll be under both his and lord diavolo’s protection

so you end up being allowed to join simeon in the devildom for his exchange year!!!

honestly with the way the two of you react when you see each other again you’d think you hadn’t seen each other in years

simeon runs up to you and jumps straight into your arms and you spin him around in a big hug and ahhhhhhhh it’s like a teen romance movie but with an actually compelling relationship

and so you move into his bedroom (because of course you’re still going to share one down here) and take up a temporary position as a gardener to take up time since you can’t really do school

pros: simeon now gets to see you every day again and you look very cute bustling around the devildom’s fancy gardens with a watering can and wheelbarrow. also he gets to watch you lift an entire shed and it’s the best thing he’s ever seen

cons: the others are all basically in love with you now as well

simeon’s torn between ‘why wouldn’t they be, he’s literally the most perfect being ever’ and ‘what the fuck, that’s MY boyfriend’

belphie likes you because you are similar to beel and you’re also warm and big and strong so he can take naps on you and you won’t be bothered in the slightest

one day simeon sees belphie just jump onto your back and start sleeping there while you’re crouched in the garden doing some weeding and he’s so stunned by the sheer audacity that he forgets to be mad about it

honestly you don’t really notice that belphie is sleeping on you until you go to get up and feel something move on your back

and then, being the dumb precious idiot you are, you just lie face first there on the lawn so that he can carry on sleeping without being disturbed

consequence: simeon nearly cries at your sweetness but is also incredibly jealous and belphie is now having Feelings that he didn’t sign up for

beel meanwhile isn’t sure how to feel about you at first because he kind of feels like you’re stealing his twin all the time, but then you make him your special candied fruits (from produce that you grew yourself) and he loves you from that point forward

also PLEASE share your workout routine with him he wants to know your secret

it turns out that you don’t really have a workout routine?? you were just made like that

though the constant exercise and heavy lifting and stuff you do as part of your daily garden-care routine (you take care of basically all of the gardens back in the celestial realm) helps as well

he’s a bit disappointed but he does like that you can pick him up without any effort

one time he asked if you were capable of it and without missing a beat you went ‘let’s find out!’ and straight up swept him off his feet

beel was fucking screaming on the inside but no can’t feel feelings that’s simeon’s boyfriend

meanwhile asmo… okay we all know the way asmo is

boy took one look at you and immediately started drooling (figuratively anyway. physically his jaw just dropped)

kudos to him though, he backs off with the flirting as soon as simeon informs everyone that you’re his partner

asmo may be the avatar of lust but he is no home wrecker (he still finds an excuse to hug you every time he sees you though because awooga, muscles)

(he does know his boundaries so simeon doesn’t mind too much)

asmo also very likes the fact that you have such a green thumb because it means you can grow the prettiest flowers and you’re always willing to trim him a few to use as accessories

at some point simeon accidentally eavesdrops in on a conversation between the two of you where you’re just gushing about what kind of flowers he likes and how you’re going to plant them everywhere in the devildom because you like it when he smiles when he sees them

CRITICAL HIT!!!!!

simeon is pretty sure he combusts on the spot, while asmo is just squealing

thus was the origin of the title ‘Cutest Couple in the Universe’

satan on the other hand is mostly disinterested in you at first

the two of you live in pretty different worlds even if you live within the a five minutes’ walk of each other. he prefers to stay locked up in his room or the library and just curl up with a good book or ten for hours on end, while you’re always outside, digging flower beds and pruning bushes and cleaning fences and walls and basically doing every other little bit of manual labour that none of the brothers could be bothered to do before

he does note that you’re pretty good at what you do but that’s about it

until one day

you’re just pottering about in the garden outside the house of lamentation doing your angelic gardener thing when the stray cat that satan’s secretly been feeding for the past month or so comes by for its usual afternoon meal

satan has the window overlooking the garden so he quickly spots its ginger fur as well as you staring directly at it, and he immediately panics because what if you scare it away with your intimidating stature???

(yes, part of the reason satan doesn’t acknowledge you before this is because he was kind of scared of you and your muscles that he heard could punt beings out of entire realms back in your hey-day)

so he quickly dumps his book (though not without carefully bookmarking his place first) and rushes down to the garden in hopes of salvaging the situation, only to find you lying face first on the grass once again, though this time it’s not his little brother on your back

it’s the cat, who is purring like a little motor and aggressively kneading its paws against your back

satan can’t even see your face in this moment but he still basically gets cupid-shot in the heart because this is the cutest thing he’s ever seen

he has to force himself to calm down for a bit before he approaches lest he get overexcited and accidentally incur simeon’s wrath in the process

anyway after that satan makes a beeline for you every time he sees you and learns that you are an Absolute Idiot, but it just makes him like you even more

if satan was intimidated by you at first though, levi is downright terrified

you look like you could snap him in half with a single punch

he doesn’t try to talk to you at all for the first few weeks because how could he possibly find common ground to talk to you about?? you probably hunt dragons and eat rocks or something in your spare time

it isn’t until satan brings you up one day and mentions that you are incredibly dumb of the ass and probably couldn’t hurt a fly even if you tried that levi even entertains the idea of befriending you

he’s still not making the first move though

but it turns out that he doesn’t have to! one day you just show up at his bedroom door holding a giant crate of his latest akuzon haul

turns it got dropped off at the local post office after traffic problems and you volunteered to go pick it up and bring it back

anyway levi thanks you and starts unpacking his stuff, expecting you to leave in silence, but then he looks over and sees you just standing in front of his tv and staring at it

he’d been playing some battle platformer to pass the time before you showed up, and while levi himself doesn’t consider it particularly remarkable, you’re absolutely fascinated

being a gardener in the celestial realm you’ve never really had experience with this kind of thing, and you’re even more tech-illiterate than simeon, so what you’re seeing is basically like magic to you

so levi takes it upon himself to teach you as much about the art of gaming as he can in the short span of the next four hours before simeon gets home from a meeting of some kind and you inevitably immediately run off to greet him

you learn the basics relatively quickly but you’re still pretty awful at it

levi loses count of the amount of times you’ve accidentally run right off the end of the platform and fallen to your death once it reaches thirty two

it’s pretty much the most he’s laughed in, like, forever

congratulations! you have gained a new member in your party! levi will now follow you to the ends of the earth because you are the first person he feels like he can just be totally at ease around without being judged at all and just have fun with

(once, after you leave another gaming session to go cuddle with your boyfriend in the garden, levi catches himself thinking that ‘it isn’t fair that simeon gets to date him’ and has to do some serious self assessment)

mammon meanwhile has none of the reverence for you that his brother does

the amount of times he’s tried to rope you into his money-making schemes (which never work because he fails to realise that you are incapable of doing anything malicious in the slightest) is honestly just embarrassing at this point

simeon has to step in more than a couple of times because honestly mammon could ask you for your wallet and you’d probably just give it to him without another thought

that being said your wallet wouldn’t be much use because you never have any money

you just don’t understand the concept of exchanging money for goods and/or services so you never see any need for it

that being said, simeon does give you some money every time you go out into town on your own because something will inevitably catch your eye and you’ll suddenly realise that you just cannot live without it

the thing is simeon spoils you ridiculously so he always gives you way more money than would be considered a reasonable allowance

which means all mammon has to do is tag along and ask you nicely and you’ll probably buy him anything he wants

he does this a couple of times but then stops because he actually starts feeling bad about it

something just doesn’t sit right with him when he’s walking around with a bunch of shiny new things you’ve bought him with money that was meant to be spent on you while the only thing you’ve bought of your own volition is a pack of chocolate lollipops shaped like rabbits to share with simeon and luke

he may be the demonic avatar of greed but even he has a line that he won’t cross

he makes up for it by buying you things instead

nothing too expensive (he’s still mammon after all), just little things like sweets or bulbs for flowers you haven’t tried planting yet or food colouring for you to use for your candied fruits

speaking of those candied fruits, guess who loves and would probably kill a man for them?

lucifer

man may not seem like it but he has a hell of a sweet tooth

there was a bit of tension between the two of you when you first met (well there was tension from lucifer anyway) because he’d never met you like he had simeon and luke and had no idea what you were like

plus he’d heard about how you’re everyone’s favourite now back in the celestial realm and the little piece of him that still misses his life as an angel is a little petty about it

but then he interacts with you more and he realises that that favouritism is absolutely deserved

he will not admit it but he has wondered what being carried by you would feel like on multiple occasions

figures out how to read you really well which isn’t much of an achievement when you wear every single feeling you have on your sleeve but it still brings him a bit of satisfaction when he notices something that simeon doesn’t

he may be a pridey mcprideface but he is willing to give up a bit of that pride by pretending he can’t carry something heavy so that he can watch you do it

simeon acts like he doesn’t notice this but he absolutely does and he doesn’t know if he should tease lucifer about it or whack him over the head with a newspaper for it

all that aside though, much like simeon,  lucifer also thinks you’re just the cutest

he comes across you building a pillow fortress in the middle of the house of lamentation’s living room one day and is understandably like “what are you doing in my house and what are you doing with those pillows”

you explain very seriously that satan asked you for help in an apparently pre-arranged pillow fight with mammon and that every warrior needs a well-protected base of operations and offer to show him all the optimised battle features somehow recreated from nothing but cushions and blankets and chairs 

lucifer’s heart goes d o k i  d o k i

he also has experience with Big and Dumb men from dealing with both beel and diavolo (when the three of you are together it’s just himbo3) so the stupid doesn’t bother him much

speaking of diavolo (wow i am nailing all of these transitions from character to character look at me go)

this man is basically just a grown up golden retriever boy and you are a big gentle st. bernard so the two of you get along like a house on fire

you’ve seen how much this man gushes about lucifer. now imagine that times a thousand

that is how he talks about you

honestly sometimes you’d think HE’S the one dating you

simeon would probably get defensive if he didn’t get so much whiplash from their conversations about you

diavolo: “i must say, i never would have pinned [name] as being your type”

simeon, ready to Fucking Brawl: “excuse me?”

diavolo: “though i don’t blame you, have you seen his page in that book about the celestial war? the illustration does his true beauty no justice, of course, but it’s enchanting in and of itself. to be honest i’d have loved to have seen him in action during the war, i imagine it would have been quite breath-taking to see”

simeon: “…what”

barbatos is usually just there in the background during half of these exchanges and he has to seriously stiffen up his poker face to resist just bursting into laughter

the other half of the time the conversation is just simeon and diavolo going back and forth gushing about you

barbatos honestly dislikes you a bit at first

not for any personal faults of your own! it’s just that all your garden work + your very forgetful mind means that you’re often tracking dirt everywhere

it doesn’t help that diavolo keeps inviting you over to the castle for tea and a chat and half the time you leave these big footprints on the floor and he wants to cry because he just spent four hours mopping that

he mentions it to diavolo in passing at one point, who then passes the message on to simeon

barbatos kind of gets concerned for himself because he knows simeon does not take well to you being insulted (one time a demon at the r.a.d. called you an ‘unintelligent buffoon’ and he was ready to start a fist fight right then and there)

not that it was an insult, but you never know how love can blind you to reason

but simeon just assures him not to worry and tells you to remember to clean your shoes as well as changing clothes after doing some gardening

normally you’d forget being told these things within a few hours but simeon offers to give you a kiss every time you remember to do this so now you remember every single time you’re about to enter a building after doing some gardening

after that barbatos holds no ill will to you at all

he teaches you how to bake and is honestly so endeared by how clumsy you get in the kitchen

you knock an entire container of salt into the cake mix by accident because your hands are too big and you moved too fast and barbatos is just like 🥺

he low-key babies you even though he’s like an entire two heads shorter than you

you don’t mind though because getting babied by barbatos means you get given all sorts of cakes and sweets all the time

simeon isn’t sure how to feel about it but it doesn’t seem to be the patronising kind of babying (it’s more of an affectionate doting) so he lets it happen

what he doesn’t let happen is solomon’s relentless attempts to feed you his food

you are both too dumb and too nice to realise just how bad his cooking is, but simeon knows you have a sensitive stomach and are actually a pretty fussy eater - you just tend to stay quiet when something isn’t to your liking because you don’t want to complain

having had a sample of solomon’s food himself in the past, he knows that you’ll probably get sick eating it, and he doesn’t want you to be uncomfy so he refuses to let you try even a bite

it’s like he has a radar in his head that goes off every time solomon approaches you will a bowl of ‘noodle soup’ that looks more like something he’s fished out of a nuclear waste tank

solomon, when he’s not trying to indirectly poison you, is probably the guy you spend the most time with apart from simeon and luke

he’ll just hang around nearby with a spell book while you do your gardening and show you some neat little magic tricks every now and then

he tries to help with the gardening but he’s not exactly physically strong and he nearly breaks his back trying to lift a giant bag of compost

so he decides it’s probably better for him to just watch from afar

kind of wants to conduct an experiment to see just how much weight you can lift before you start getting tired

one time he sees you cut down a whole tree with one hard swat of your hand and just walk off carrying it over your shoulder and he has to take several deep breaths

luke knew you already, so not much changes while you’re in the devildom

he really wants to learn to make candied fruits the same way you do but he can never get the hang of boiling the sugar mixture to the right heat and consistency (plus he’s kind of scared of how hot it gets)

you like to just carry him around on your shoulders and while luke would normally bristle at being treated like a child, you act like this with nearly everyone

(once he sees you running around the garden with diavolo of all people perched on your shoulders, arms raised in the air like he’s on a rollercoaster ride, and he nearly passes out on the spot)

he seriously adores you and acts like a guard dog whenever he feels like any of the others are trying to take advantage of your dim-witted naïveté because NO demons are allowed to harm his big brother like that

he will also chase them off with a stick if he has to if they get too close because no being is allowed to even remotely try to disrupt your relationship with simeon 

simeon himself is no fool, and he’s well aware of the effect you have on pretty much everyone you come across, but he trusts them because they’re his friends

besides (and he isn’t being cocky or anything), it’s not like the relationship you have with them even holds a candle to what you have with him

they’ve all known you for less than a year, he’s loved you for nearly two millennia

they might be allowed take naps on your back while you work or be carried about on your shoulders, but do they get to spend every night snuggled up in your arms, feeling your chest rise and fall with every breath you take? no, he doesn’t think so

in conclusion: one day himbos like you will probably take over the world with their big muscles and unwavering loyalty and clueless grins that could make anyone’s heart skip a beat, and simeon’s pretty sure he’d be okay with it

[simpingforobeyme]

Obey Me Boys Reaction to “Hey Please Don’t Be Mad”

How many times do you reckon I can pass posts off as ‘random shower thoughts’ and ‘ideas that i’ve been sat on this draft for ages and I just wanted to post’ before people get suspicious that I actually put a lot of thought into this.

Lucifer

*Cue eyebrow raise*

Gears up for you to be saying it on Mammon’s behalf

What was that? You want to finish your sentence? No need, Lucifer is already stringing his dear little brother upside down from the roof

Sorry dude but you are going to have to shout louder than that if you want to get his attention and clear up this minor miscommunication

Mammon

This boy gets really antsy really fast

You know that there’s next to nothing that he would be mad at you for, so why would you open with that?

Once his 2 braincell manage to gain some friction he immediately goes to make sure Goldie is okay and then runs to his room to make sure the rest of his horde is okay without giving you time to explain

Because what else could you have done that would make him mad

Leviathan

Uh oh

Levi’s brain is going a mile a minute trying to think of what you had done

If he’s in his room then I imagine he would stay pretty calm until you tell him what’s up

If he’s not in his room then he will be pretty soon because he just jetted off at the speed of light screaming about how he ‘LEFT IT FOR 5 MINUTES’ and something else about Ruri-chan that you didn’t quite catch

Probably should have prefaced that statement by saying Ruri-chan is fine

Satan

Similar thing to Levi really but with added disbelief that you would bother saying that to the Avatar of Wrath

If he’s in his room then he’ll just sigh and say something along the lines of “and you felt the need to disturb me about it?” and then go back to his book

If Satan is not in his room then he’ll just assume that you destroyed his entire room and kill you there on the spot to save him time later

(Note - If you ever find yourself in this situation, I suggest you say it was Mammon and run as fast as you can)

Asmodeus

Either “Oh my dear, don’t worry you won’t make me mad” or  “Holy shit are you pregnant” and there is no in-between

No it doesn’t matter if there is no way that you could be pregnant, he is still paranoid

It’s all dependent on how Asmo is feeling

Good mood = good response     Bad mood = you won’t get a word in edgeways and there is nothing you can do to smooth everything over until he panics himself halfway to comatose

Beelzebub

Our resident teddy bear would like to believe he would never get mad and to his credit, unless the next sentence has to do with his food or Belphie, he probably won’t

But Beel’s resting face is scary

Just  ಠ_ಠ  straight into your fucking soul

Sweet bby boy doesn’t realise it but good luck actually finishing what you want to say

Belphegor

Unless his twin senses notified him that something was off with Beel, he would just sleep through your confession of guilt

You could have set the house on fire and he would probably just be amused because it would annoy Lucifer

“Mmm that’s nice… Could you get me another pillow once you’ve finished talking?”

He doesn’t care

[jaeheewillalwaysbemyfav]

so since you're gonna do the avatar!mc au with the entities you think each brother would fear the most (SO excited for that btw, my friend can attest to the fact that i've basically been rambling about tma x om nonstop since the first post you made that put the two together), i'd love to hear your thoughts on which entity each brother would *be* an avatar of, if you're cool with sharing! personally i love the ideas of specifically vast!levi and dark!belphie but i'd love to hear your takes on the concept! <3

So because of how time works, despite receiving this ask on July 12, by the time you see this it’ll be August! So the entire Avatar!MC series should be out by now, which I hope you will/have enjoy/ed. I wholeheartedly agree with the concept of Vast! Levi, which I’ve talked about before (as you know ;) ), but I will happily ramble about it again!

These aren’t gonna be short fics though bc I do Yearn to save that energy for The Longfic, which is still in the planning stages because a) I can’t pick a timeline, and b) trying to match up the timelines of Obey Me and TMA is hard, especially when I tend to have a violent disrespect for actually paying attention to the timing of plot events in both. I already fucked up a part of the plotting because I forgot the order we get pacts with the brothers lmao

Content warnings: Mentions/allusions to tma-typical Spookies, yet another installation of my Cursed Crossover idea, lengthy debates about what makes someone choose to become an avatar of fear, spoilers for Lesson 16+ of Obey Me and S5 of TMA

What Entity Do I Think The Brothers Would Serve? (Cursed TMA x Obey Me Crossover)

Lucifer

So I put him as falling victim to the Eye/Beholding bc of his whole thing about Secrets and Pride being about wanting control over your own image

And he does have a creepy tendency in canon to always know when his brothers are up to some Dumb Shit

BUT! You know what we see in Lucifer’s character that we see in a certain Entity?

A simultaneous manipulation of others and submission to being manipulated by a higher power

That’s right, I think Luci would be a Web avatar

But Winter, Lucifer wouldn’t wanna take marching orders from someone/thing else! He’s too proud for that— You’re right! He doesn’t want to. But he will.

He willingly submitted himself and his family to Diavolo for eternity to get what he wanted (saving Lilith)

And from how much we see him work, it’s safe to say that he’s a pretty damn essential part of running the Devildom

If he really wanted to, he could probably successfully pull a coup on Diavolo

But he doesn’t, because he’s trapped himself by his own honour code

Thus, the sexual tension bromance we all know and love/insist is Deeply Problematic and blacklist (depending on how much you like/hate dialuci lol)

10/10, would fill with spiders again

Mammon

I put Mammon as falling victim to the Buried for pretty obvious reasons

But admittedly picking a fear he’d serve is trickier

I had to get a bit abstract with it, but I think the Hunt might suit him

Not necessarily the primal *cough* and police brutality *cough* parts of the Hunt tho

More like how Basira was considered an avatar of the Hunt in the fearpocalypse because of her mission/promise to Daisy

See, Greed can stem from fear

Fear of losing what you have, of no longer being able to support yourself, of being preyed upon by others

So people become greedy as a defense mechanism, to protect what they have

If they’re on the offensive, they won’t be targeted

Also, if you’re constantly pursuing more more more, there’s no time to think about anything else

Like consequences, or guilt, or Feelings

If Mammon let his little tough guy act go too far for too long, I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch to say he could start heading down the path to avatarhood

After all, people pay big money for hitmen and bounty hunters…

Leviathan

As I said last time, I can see why people would associate Levi with the Lonely first: he’s a shut in, he acts like he wants nothing to do with people/would rather be alone, and I get it

BUT! All of that actually stems from the fact that Levi has terrible self-esteem and thinks he deserves to be this gross shut in loser

While envy can make you want to bring others down to your level, so to speak, Levi tends to just shun “normies”, not actively conspire to sabotage them

He actually does crave understanding and to have people in his life, he just doesn’t know how to go about it

Boy’s got Mega Social Anxiety is what I’m saying (funny how both the Lonely and the Eye can be real bad for that, huh)

But the Vast? Nihilism? Takes all the pressure off

If everyone is a small, insignificant speck in the face of an uncaring, unfathomably large cosmos, who cares what you do? Who cares what people think of you?

Yeah, you’d be kinda weird too if you stared into the infinite abyss of the ocean and realized it was just the maw of a gargantuan sea monster too, Karen, lay off

Plus aesthetically, the great Awful Deep most people fear in the ocean is a comfort to Levi

And again, THE VAST IS MORE THAN JUST THE SKY

I WENT ON A BOAT ONCE

LIKE REAL FAR OUT, SO I COULDN’T SEE LAND FOR DAYS

IT WAS JUST ENDLESS B L U E

AND I WAS ON A CRUISE IN THE CARIBBEAN

I SAW A FRACTION OF THE OCEAN’S S U R F A C E AND IT WAS I M M E N S E

Did you know we’ve only explored like 5% or whatever of our oceans? Think about that! Every Single Thing we know about what’s in there is just the tip of the iceberg!!! GOD KNOWS WHAT’S DOWN THERE!!! PROBABLY FUCKED UP FISH IS WHAT

*ahem* anyway, fishee

Satan

Another tricky boi

I marked him down as fearing the Desolation, as a reflection of what he fears most in himself

I probably could have also gone with Slaughter, but I’d say that’s more baby/early-Satan

Desolation is also about destruction of potential, and Satan has very carefully built himself into a non-rage-monster person

So tearing that all away from him is :)))

But what would Satan give himself over to?

Ceaseless Watcher, I want that twink OBLITERATED—

Satan clings to knowledge and erudition to distance himself from the rage he was born as

“Watch and learn” is literally how he became a person

I find it deeply funny that it could also easily be how he becomes a monster once again

Also if you think the avatar of Wrath wouldn’t have a use for supernatural blackmail you’re just straight up incorrect

Couple that with Satan’s various connections and he’d be a Force to Reckon With

Asmodeus

I put him as a victim of the Corruption bc I found it extremely fitting considering the duality of his romanticized image vs the “dirty” fluid-filled nature of Lust.

Lust can be really nasty, but as licentious as Asmo’s supposed to be, he’s surprisingly coy

(now part of that comes from the fact that Obey Me isn’t strictly 18+/full-on porn, but still)

There’s a lot of Interesting Ideas to unpack there with attitudes towards sex vs sensuality and idealisation vs reality

Now as for an avatar… I debated this for a very long time, tossing around Eye, Stranger, Spiral, even Web for like one second

But I think I’ve got it

Slaughter!

Specifically the musical/random outbursts of violence side (not so much the war side)

Why? Well for one, Biblical Asmodeus is said to “"transport men into fits of madness and desire [...] with the result that they commit sin, and fall into murderous deeds (Testament of Solomon, verse 23).”

But also, Obey Me Asmo’s affair with that portrait chick from the earlier lessons started a whole ass war

Like it or not, the boy is very good at instilling manic violence in people

They don’t call it bloodlust for nothing

Beelzebub

I paired Beel with an End avatar MC bc the boy fears losing his loved ones like he lost Lilith

You could argue that Desolation would fit there too but I liked how it fit Satan better

Now as for a Vibe…

I’m tied between Flesh and Corruption tbh

Though corruption is mostly bc buge :)

So I’ll talk about the Flesh

So uh, mass consumerism, meat is meat, cannibalism… see where I’m going?

Ignoring the Hans because that was super racist, the two Flesh avatars I remember best are Jared Hopworth and The Guy Who Stuck His Arm in a Spooky Meat Grinder To Feed His Buds

I think of Jared in relation to Beel not because of the gym thing, but because his very chill/apathetic attitude towards his patron is similar to how I’d picture Beel’s approach to all this

Like “well, guess I’m here now”

I love Beel as much as everyone else, but he’s not exactly apologetic about his… habits

Not to the degree that he’d actually try and change them anyway

So if he got started on the path to Flesh avatarhood, he’d be pretty fucked

Belphegor

I put Web for him as a fear almost entirely because of the concept of Uno Reverse Card, ngl

It does technically tie into his whole thing about being trapped in the attic, since he’d denied all agency and freedom in there, but… Uno Reverse

Dark!Belphie is an interesting concept, and MAG86 “Tucked In” is iconic, but tbh I don’t really… Get the Dark

Don’t get me wrong, put me in a dark place and I will be scared, I don’t like not seeing things, but I have a hard time wrapping my head around why one would become an avatar of the Dark

It’s not a very “primary” fear imo? Like, I’m scared of the dark bc I can’t see what’s there, ie. a threat could be there and I wouldn’t know, but intellectually I know it’s just the absence of light. That’s not really spooky on its own.

I guess what I’m saying is I can attribute spookier things related to the Dark better to other Entities, so I’m not sure what its draw is specifically

According to the Entity Sexiness Survey I did a while back, there’s apparently some Catholic stuff going on with the Dark so maybe that’s why i don’t get it lmao

Anyway I’d put Belphie down for Spiral

“What lies behind a smile” indeed cowboy

Apparently it’s getting choked

Is it because MC’s entire relationship with him is originally founded on a lie?

Is it because the Spiral deals with distortions in your perception, gaslighting gatekeeping girlbossing, as well as foggy liminal mental spaces like between sleep and consciousness, death and life?

Is it because I think Belphie would absolutely delight in driving someone bananas by fucking with their dreams until it bleeds into their waking life?

Is it because being a person or consistent being at all is too much effort, consistent internal geography is hard, fuck it, just be an endless twisting series of hallways?

Yes :)

[the-gilbird]

so i haven’t really posted anything like this before. but fuck it, because good omens is amazing, and i just shared this with the discord server, and they encouraged me to share it here, so. let’s-a-go, i guess

anyway. so. here it is.

so, we all know crowley is capable of massive feats, in terms of miracles. he can stop time on a whim. he can make a car make it through a ring of whatever the fuck kind of flame surrounded london via the m25, and then have it continue to function for several hours after that. he can pull two other entities (including the fucking antichrist) into what i can only assume to be a pocket dimension or something similar outside of time when one of the most powerful entities in the goddamn universe was approaching their location. and we also know why he is capable of the things he does: his imagination. crowley's creativity and imagination are one of the most powerful forces in the goddamn universe and that's not even an exaggeration. now, the other thing. aziraphale. he's smart, and cunning, and the biggest thing working against him is his lack of confidence in his abilities. he deciphered a large portion of agnes nutter's notoriously fucky riddles in one night. he figured out how to possess someone, despite no angel having done it before. and the reason he isn't higher in the pecking order in heaven is because he's kind, and loves the way angels should; and he is told for six millenia that he is not a good angel, which feeds into the lack of self confidence. but after ain'tmaggedon, he's free of heaven's influence. in fact, the only influence he really has now is crowley. and crowley's loved him for that six millenia, and probably sings his praises as often as he can now that crowley is likewise free of hell's influence, because he is a dumbstruck loveass. so aziraphale is more confident in his own abilities and traits, now. and aziraphale is intelligent. agnes nutter's final prophecy got them out of heaven and hell's line of view, and gave them time. but they won't stay away forever; crowley acknowledged that, right after the switch back in the garden. and aziraphale knows that it's only a matter of time before someone notices some discrepency, and they get caught (there's ten million angels and ten million demons, after all. someone's going to notice). so aziraphale begins to plan.

the first thing he does is plant the seeds, if you'll pardon the pun. after things have been settled for some time, he starts researching. pulling out the oldest ethereal (and occult) texts he owns (which are very old, and very numerous), and researching everything he can about the nature of angels and demons, and the nature of holy water and hellfire. and this takes up some time (seeds need to take root, after all. crowley needs to see him doing the research, after all). and occasionally, exactly as aziraphale knows he will, crowley will ask aziraphale what he's looking into, and aziraphale will say he's looking into protections against hellfire and holy water, for if heaven and hell ever figure out their little misdirection. (and crowley will hem and haw at him for referring to deceiving the entireties of heaven and hell, one of the greatest wiles ever pulled off in all of time, with the same language used to talk about magic tricks. and aziraphale will smile, because he loves every part of crowley.) and this will continue. and eventually, aziraphale will tell crowley that he's made a breakthrough. of course, aziraphale won't actually have made that big of a breakthrough. he has everything he needs by day three. but crowley needs to believe it. crowley needs to believe that aziraphale spent that entire time researching and plotting and planning and reading, because aziraphale is the smartest person that crowley knows, and if anyone can figure it out, his angel can. but what aziraphale tells him is that there wasn't any need of a plan at all, really. all this research has essentially been for moot. well, not for moot, because now they both know, but they didn't actually need to do anything with the information, aziraphale explains, because they're already safe, and have been for some time.

because, aziraphale says, holy water and hellfire can't affect them anymore. because crowley loves him with all of his heart, aziraphale explains, and he loves crowley with all of his. (don't technically have a heart, crowley says, still a bit blown away, what on account of them having corporations and not bodies, and all. oh hush, you know what i mean, aziraphale says back, and gives crowley a kiss on the forehead for his trouble.) and if a demon loves an angel, really loves them, hellfire won't burn them, because hellfire is the creation of demons, beings of destruction, generally, fueled by the hatred of their opposition, and so if a demon doesn't hate angels, it won't burn as strongly. and if a demon loves an angel, just one, then the angel won't be destroyed. and it works the same the other way 'round with holy water, aziraphale says, more excitedly, as crowley watches him enraptured, because holy water is blessed by angels, used to wipe out the opposition which they hate. and so if an angel loves a demon, that demon will be protected from the blessing, even blessings created by other angels. because love is a powerful force, it is the basis of the creation of humanity, when god first whispered the idea of them into being. when you love someone and have that love returned, you are giving yourself, wholely and completely, to another, and everything you are protects them with everything you have. it just so happens, aziraphale finishes by saying, that the respective weaknesses and strengths of angels and demons balance out rather nicely. humans put this phenomenon into very nice words, once; you must be subjected to the mortifying ordeal of being known, in order to get the rewards of being loved. and so they are ready. when they come (and they do come, they were always going to come, eventually), they take aziraphale first, just like last time. but unlike last time, aziraphale and crowley are together when their respective former head offices come to deal the killing blows. holy water said to be blessed by the almighty herself, and hellfire harvested from the deepest pits of hell, fueled by satan's everlasting rage. the strongest stuff there is, just so there is every guarentee. (the water fizzles gabriel's skin lightly, even, as a drop falls out as he carries it over, and the fire roars with a heat that even beelzebub inches away from.) it is volatile, it is deadly, and there is absolutely no hope for the traitors now. (or there wouldn't be, if aziraphale weren't so smart.) and crowley is shackled to the ground, his shoulders restrained by... demons? angels? he doesn't know, and he doesn't rightly care at this point, they're all the same to him, forcing him to face aziraphale, shackled and bound just as he is, being led into a roaring inferno of the hottest hellfire crowley has ever seen. and he knows, he knows they're safe, aziraphale looked into every possibility and he trusts aziraphale, trusts him with everything, trusts him with the name he had before the Fall and even with that he can't help struggling, and snarling, and doing everything he can to get out and run to his angel, trying every trick in the book but it's not working because there are too many enemies abound, too many hands holding him down and restraining him as his head is pulled back by his hair and he is forced to watch as aziraphale is shoved into the flames.

(aziraphale knew this, too. crowley is the heart, out of the two of them, he always was, and heaven and hell want every bit of revenge they can get, they want it to hurt. they know it will hurt worst if crowley is forced to watch the love of his life die in front of him, unable to do anything, and for aziraphale to die knowing that he can't protect crowley from what is coming next.) (really, it's no wonder aziraphale figured out agnes nutter's prophecies so quickly; for being two completely different entities, they think with remarkable similarity.) but aziraphale has already protected crowley. he has already protected both of them, because he is the smartest being crowley has ever known, and because he knows crowley, just as crowley knows him. and he knows crowley is, hands down, one of the most powerful beings in all of creation, and crowley's imagination is a force never to be reckoned with. all that stuff aziraphale spouted, about how a love from a demon can protect an angel, and vice versa? bullshit. complete and utter bullshit. aziraphale found what he needed to in those books he researched, and what he needed was just enough solid evidence for him to convince CROWLEY that it was true. it is the biggest, boldest, most daring lie aziraphale has ever told, and he will never tell crowley the truth because he can't. (he has practice, with this whole lying thing. he's lied to humans, he's lied to heaven, hell, he's even lied to crowley before. and he promised crowley he would never tell him another lie again but this one, this one he really can't help, not if it means keeping them both safe, and aziraphale will keep this close to his chest until the end of time. and he will only regret it for a single instance, and that is when he hears crowley's scream as he is thrown into hellfire.) the hellfire doesn't touch him. it can't touch him, because crowley believes it won't. despite being made of the purest anger the universe has ever known, it wraps around aziraphale like a warm embrace, like a gentle smile, like a 'welcome home.' and as crowley sees aziraphale's figure unwavering in the fire, his cry cuts out, and he smiles even as he is drenched, because it worked, just like aziraphale said it would. (and it worked. just like crowley thought it would, aziraphale thinks, as he smiles and sighs a breath of relief that they are finally (finally) safe.)

[tragedynatural]

Hey I know you posted it like a month ago but I would love a detailed song-by song reasoning/annotations for your Sam/jake mix. If you have time it would be great to hear your thoughts!

anon i've never jumped so hard at the chance to explain my totally normal thought process in depth before. thank you! yes of course! i will try to be as brief as possible! but probably not!

the first caveat i have to give you is that this mix was based mostly on a concept where cold oak lasts for ~2 weeks. so there's time for complicated relationships and despair to set in and a lot of this won't match the like..two days? it takes in the show. also this tracklist might be different from the post. i was editing.

we must be killers (mikky ekko) - "children of the wild ones" - references demon blood and my loose interpretation of what it might feel like to have these burgeoning powers, and then the "killer" refrain is because imo a key part of boyking4boyking is about how they both Know one of them is going to die, probably by the other's hand. also i'm compelled by similarities i see between jake and sam and both have spent their adult lives (hunting, military) being trained to kill. and i think neither of them want to do that, and in this situation they're forced to consider killing their peers..oof. thinking about jake's face when he has to kill ava, thinking about how sam and jake have been in situations where they've needed to kill someone in order to ensure the safety of someone else (in the logic of spn universe's approach to hunting & military)

like real people do (hozier) - this is abt that sense of knowing i was talking about. in the 2 week cold oak au jake and sam both find out from azazel early on how things are supposed to go. and they spend a week not killing each other! but they don't know each other very well and each fears that the other will snap first. "i will not ask why you were creeping / in some sad way i already know" - a sense of like, scorpion-and-frog anticipation that the other's going to turn on you but wanting to prolong the peace before it happens. also this dynamic is a product of a horrible time for them, they know that they probably won't both make it out - the "kiss like real people do" refrain is about an idle wish of like, what would it have been like if we were normal?

damn these vampires (the mountain goats) - i just like this song i think. this was rlly about the atmosphere, capturing the sense of being changed against your will that jake is reckoning with for the first time and sam is still struggling with. also, you know, there's a little bit of a defiant feel to this song. "scream when captured... let this whole town hear your knuckles crack." at this point they think maybe they can refuse to play along with azazel, and that it might be possible to get out anyway.

our time is short (gang of youths) - look, you know, rn they've been here for a ~week? they're not sure if they're ever making it out. the other kids died in the first couple days so it's just jake and sam and i think they're going through 'last 2 people on earth' feelings at warp speed. this is .... a moment of feeling good b/c they know it won't last very long, and there's a bit of last hurrah energy. "so let's drink the best wine now..before lightning strikes us down" etc.

another place (bastille) - the jake/sam connection is a genuine feeling but it's also very much....a foxhole thing to quote bobby. they like each other genuinely but both are aware this is the result of an extraordinary situation. even if they were both getting out alive...they live completely different lives. this song is about, don't make this more than it is because even though maybe we'd both want it to be, it's not attainable.

heavy in your arms (florence + the machine) - "who is the betrayer? / who's the killer in the crowd?" is absolutely my concept for the 2 week cold oak. sam and jake being plagued by dreams from yellow-eyes, and they don't want to suspect or betray the other but. well. they'll be stuck here forever. this is both of them wondering who'll crack first. also "heavy in your arms" is a little foreshadowing for when jake stabs sam and holds him while he bleeds out. thanks!

as the world caves in (matt maltese) - look. they're going to nuke each other up boys till old satan stands impressed...on their final night alive it's YOUUU that i lie with.... this is last few days of peace before Inevitable Conflict as the tension hits a peak. it's about "i like you and i care for you and i know eventually one of us is going to kill the other but i can't be the person to pick up the knife first. so every night i sleep across the fire from you and hope you fall asleep before i do." and azazel is there.

no one would riot for less (bright eyes) - "everything is eclipsed / by the shape of destiny" - the fact that the lives of the special children have been counting down to this moment! their hopes, dreams, personal morals, affections for others are eclipsed by fate baby! inescapable! the whole "little soldier" section is again about how both of them have been made into weapons to fight for various causes, and now they're being. pitted against each other. "love me now / hell is coming" and "help me out / hell is coming / could you do it now / hell is here" is obviously about them knowing shit is going to go down soon and also this sense of like. just kill me if you're going to. don't prolong the inevitable.

have to explode (the mountain goats) - similar theme here, feeling like you're counting down to the inevitable - "the stage is set / someone's going to do something someone else will regret" sam and jake are pieces in a plan that's been in motion for years and everyone's just waiting for them to buckle down and play the role. "the fuse will have to run out sometime / something here will eventually have to explode" - dean only finds sam once sam's been stabbed and jake has 'won'. if no victor emerges they stay here until one does, and they know that they can't hold out forever.

tusk (fleetwood mac) - i put this on every playlist sorry about me! also it's, okay, jake wakes up in the night to see sam stuck in a nightmare and he knows the demon's visiting both of them. what's it saying to him, he thinks, what's sam going to do? this is about creeping dread, and this sense that the person you're with maybe knows something you don't. that they're planning to betray you, that they already have. and musically the frantic melody and vocalization just ups the tension.

bite the hand (boygenius) - jake's pov. sam is the one who pushes for a truce and holding out for another option out of cold oak, and jake is on board. at first. but as time kicks on he realizes that there's no other option whereas sam is still a little bit in denial. so the "i can't love you how you want me to / i'll bite the hand that feeds me / you want what i can't give to you / who do you think you are / who do you think i am / maybe i'm afraid of you" - is about him doing a heel turn where he realizes like, i can't do this (stay indefinitely here to find a dubiously-real other way out for a guy i just met) and sam can't do it either, and one of us is going to snap, and i'm afraid it'll be sam first.

i bet on losing dogs (mitski) - sam's perspective on ^ - he does know how it's going to end but he can't quite. give up on hoping that it won't. he doesn't kill jake when he has the chance. he must know jake'll kill him if he's not dead or knocked unconscious, but he hopes. that he won't. anyway. and he's wrong. he knows he'll be wrong, i think he can sense that jake is doing a heel turn but also, they're getting played by azazel who's planting seeds of doubt and they're stuck in this depressing place alone, and sam's not sure how much he can trust himself. he's betting on losing dogs.

samson (regina spektor) - "you are my sweetest downfall / i loved you first" - jake's pov on a guy he genuinely likes who he knows he's going to kill. before the fight & the cemetery they cared for each other. "we couldn't bring the columns down / we couldn't destroy a single one" - in the end trying to hold out against azazel does nothing, the gate opens, the apocalypse happens. it's futile. and the story never mentions jake or cold oak again - i think the fact that sam tried to like, help & protect the special kids & then had to watch andy, ava, and lily die, & then jake tried to kill him, & he had to kill jake is like. pretty fucked up. those are the last people like him on this earth man he was 23!

heaven or hell (digital daggers) - vibes! also: "i’ve got the same deep wounds as you / my love can double as a weapon too" - jake and sam's similarities are so key to me. either one of them could have been the person to turn first. i'm anti-trying to make jake into a bad guy for stabbing sam! he wanted to go home! "show me the side no one else sees / turn it back on me" - what's it like for sam to be around other special kids? does he feel more normal or less than he does with dean? thinking about that "it doesn't matter if we believe it only matters that they do" scene- SO interesting! what a cool moment of jake and sam connecting on a level of both being leaders, both knowing what a lose-lose situation looks like, both knowing how to keep the hope alive, and do what has to be done. of course this is also the trait that leads to jake killing sam / sam killing jake. they're the same.

old college try (the mountain goats) - this is specifically like, night before jake stabs sam. he knows he's going to kill sam by now. "i want to say i'm sorry for stuff i haven't done yet / things will shortly get completely out of hand" - jake thinking about this last like, goodbye. and "i will walk down to the end with you / if you will come all the way down with me" - seeing it through till the end, sam has a burgeoning sense of something wrong.

it seemed the better way (leonard cohen)- again i literally just put this one on everything i can. also you know, it's jake thinking about listening to azazel and killing sam. it seemed like the better way then, but now, when azazel's threatened his family and he realizes he can't get out of it, it's too late to go back in time and do it differently. he has to obey azazel + play along. "i better hold my tongue / i better take my place / lift this glass of blood / try to say the grace". yes i know this is about religion i'm not trying to make light of the song i just think. i'm squinting okay.

don't let me be misunderstood (nina simone) - LISTEN! JAKE'S INTENTIONS ARE GOOD. this is like, meeting in the cemetery and sam is alive and they both know what's passed between them and what can never be and where it has to go now, and jake's thinking "just remember that i'm not evil. just remember i have a family that i wanted to come back to like you, don't let where this went eclipse the fact that you cared about me, that you know i'm a good person." it's also me holding a large stick and pointing it at everyone in supernatural so that they remember that he did nothing wrong.

say goodbye (fleetwood mac) - okay bear with me. in my version. of cold oak jake doesn't get killed by sam. he kills azazel and sam and dean let him go. this is a retrospective on the whole thing for both of them. "i let you slip away / there was nothing I could do / that was so long ago, yeah / still I often think of you" and "so don't let it get you down / just a time within a time / just a scheme within a scheme / a little world within a world / yes, a dream, just a dream" are the thesis lyrics for this song. cold oak's done, azazel's nuked, back to the real world now. it's a bitter way to say goodbye to a person you cared about after they killed you/you killed them, even though you both sort of. expected it to go that direction. by this point i was just like IT FEELS RIGHT (adds to playlist).

[iamkhange]

Why is Israel a developed country, and why are we still developing?

I am not a very good writer or author. But one day, I sat down to write my thoughts,

Think about it, some irrelevant ideas and questions are starting to get very annoying these days, like:

· Why is Israel a developed country, and why are we growing?

· Why does he have so many resources that he is selling the world and we are just borrowing?

· Are they still a chosen nation, and our share is limited to the "promise of intercession"?

When I started drowning in these and many other questions, I resorted to Google, proving to be very strong.

Many things between the Jewish nation and the Muslims

Like meet

Both are Abrahamic religions

Believe in one God

To worship him

To be cleansed

make ablution

To do charity

Slaughtering and eating animals

Don't eat pork

Circumcision

Believing that jinn are God's creation

Considering Satan disobedient

The act of considering the people of Lot a sin

Don't recognize a relationship without marriage

On the coming of the Messiah before the resurrection

Believing in the reckoning on the Day of Resurrection

Thinking in the same way of being resurrected after death (being made back from the tail bone)

Witt: The practical methods of all these ordinary things are different; for example, they call Allah by another name, the practise of ablution and prayer is different, their Messiah is different, etc.

Now the surprise increased from here that despite so many similarities and similarities, how did they move forward? While here (God forbid), religion has become a chain of feet, the children graduating from our madrassas are seldom integrated into the outside world, and in the modern lifestyle, they are barely visible, any skill anyway. It is not part of our education system that the child is still "reading" (why it is inappropriate for us to teach skills while learning).

We have included religion only in everyday life till the azan at birth and the funeral prayer at death. The rest of it has been left in the niche. The two are not conceived at the same time. Yes, some schools or madrassas are now promoting religious and scientific education together, but on the one hand, their number is like salt in flour; on the other hand, their fees are out of the commoner's pocket. And if the money came in the bag and then the education system of London, Europe and America would look fine, then very few children are getting an education from these modern madrassas.

After madrassas, school and college education is also in an awful condition in our country. An example of our education system is termite infested wood. We memorize it. But the same child cannot write 5 to 10 lines on any subject other than these.

Curriculum and the practical world are two different things; there is no match between them; education is so expensive that if one leaves with a degree, he is worried about "recovering his investment" first.

And after all, the sad thing is that 44.5% of children go to high school; 55 out of every 100 children do not go to school.

Beloved God, the Prophet (peace be upon him), prioritized the gathering of knowledge and education over the meeting of remembrance and supplication that I was sent as a teacher (Ibn Majah).

And more than 25 million children in Pakistan do not go to school ... (These are pre-Corona statistics)

In Israel, schooling is free and compulsory, as well as skills and practical business training, paid for by the school/government, and the dropout is skilled. Yes, and also business, he also bears and collects the cost of his further education. Thus, the country's economy is also strengthened, and the expenditure incurred on the child's teaching also starts coming back.

There was no oil in the house at the Prophet's death, but three swords of personal use were hanging on the wall.

On the occasion of the trench warfare, the Muslims dug a fifteen-mile long trench in fifteen days with stones tied to their stomachs and defended Medina on an empty stomach.

Referring to both incidents, Israel's defense minister bought heavy weapons from the United States in the 1973 Arab-Israeli war, saying that even if it provided the nation with only one loaf of bread for 20 years, the world would see only a winner after the war. Not empty stomach

In 1973, we lost Bengal, and Israel increased some of its territories.

There is no water in Israel, they make seawater usable, grow crops from it, drink it, and now they have become so skilled that they are selling the world, even purified water, to purify it. Plants, crops grown on them, animals raised on them and their milk/meat,

Despite being the most extensive canal system, it is sometimes time to import wheat and sugar (which are among our significant crops) despite being primarily an agricultural country.

The Hour will not come until the Muslims fight the Jews and kill them until the Jews hide behind a rock or a tree.

“O Muslims! This Jew is behind me. Come and kill him, except for the tree of Gharqad, because he is one of the trees of the Jews” (Sahih Muslim).

Despite being the world's technology hub, Israel has grown the most trees in the last 50 years. While the number of trees in the rest of the world is declining, Israel is the only country growing.

He (the Antichrist) will come to the babe Lud in Palestine. Jesus (PBUH) will have descended, and here they will kill him ... Hadith

Today, Israel has a military airport in Lud and has excellent security.

So, sir, the thing is that religion is not a chain of feet, nor does a large population hold anyone back. On the contrary, the most vital factor that hinders progress is mental retardation, the thought of not moving forward.

If our prime minister said that women's clothes cause mischief, he would also give some ugly justification for the crimes committed against older women, boys, girls, dead (dead bodies). But in our country, Islam starts with a woman's clothes and ends with four marriages of a man. There is no rule of training or justice, no control of the self and no control over the eyes. There is no question of passing any verse of knowledge, of discovery,

Well, this is a collective matter, which we all blame the government and its policies and acquit our political party and ourselves, but our role as individuals is no more negligible.

We never try to pick up a loser, but we call him so bad that he loses confidence in his return. To get a chance to hit a woman,

Mobile has become very popular; about 30 million people in Pakistan currently use smartphones, but sadly, the top trends in search are cricket series, cricketers, political scandals, controversial and bold actors, education, health. We have nothing to do with research and knowledge. Thanks to Corona, the only "Google classroom" in terms of education is still in trend in 2020.

The epidemic is also considered a "business season" in our country, and things are expected at 4 to 6 times higher prices, oxygen cylinders are missing from the market, and a simple mask is available at 20 to 25.

Of course, not everyone is like that; many people are doing perfect things, retail shops deliver rations to needy homes, schools give free education to poor children, etc.

But all this is not enough. It is like salt in the flour. For development, we all have to move forward, so whatever you are, whatever your status, think of collective benefits, your neighbor, partner, house. Help, employee, friend, brother, make encouragement a motto in every relationship, encourage them to move forward, ignore their mistakes and shortcomings, guide them according to their talent,

We are a very talented nation, and the world is buying our talent ... Via the same mobile, laptop and computer,

Anyone around you has any talent, provide information to sell on the net, guide them on how they can make money by selling this skill, don't limit the intake to yourself, because stagnant water, no matter how good and abundant it is, rots, it becomes impure, so keep sharing, knowledge, conveniences, sweet words, whatever is available to you,

Believe in everything you can get money need a little research, information, so do not use your mobile phone to wait for the magic by writing five in the comments it is a great power you can use it; ideally, you can earn money from it, you can strengthen your family, your nation ...

Rise and do your part to move beyond Israel and developed countries like this so that our next generation can breathe in a developed Pakistan, do your part to make this country safe because

ہیں ہے ناامید اقبال اپنی کشت ویراں سے

ذرا نم ہو تو یہ مٹی بڑی زرخیز ہے ساقی

Pray for progress

[afriendlyirin]

Just finished season 1 of The Owl House!

I am really amazed by just how similar it is to Gravity Falls. The characters, writing, and humor all feel so familiar. I know Alex Hirsch is only listed as a “creative consultant”, whatever that means, so are there other carry-overs among the staff as well?

I feel like the show is great at character moments, but stumbles a bit when it comes to overarching plot. Its manic, irreverent style doesn’t work very well for long-form plots, I think.

Eda is honestly a really terrible teacher and is constantly dragging her feet on teaching Luz for no clear reason; it would be one thing if she was actually teaching Luz other things, Granny Weatherwax style, but we don’t really see that. She doesn’t even explain that she doesn’t think Luz can even do magic at all until the fourth episode, which makes her promise in the first episode look really dickish. (She should also notice that Luz’s method of magic is completely different from hers, and so “just commune with nature” is probably not going to work.)

Lillith was hard to get a read on. The show treats her like a joke the whole season right up until the end where suddenly she’s super serious, and the transition is just too abrupt. She’s so toothless in all of her previous encounters with Eda, giving up extremely easily and swearing vengeance only to come back just as toothless as before. (She just walks away after losing a sports match, really?) I think it would have worked better if we had actually gotten to see the noose tightening on her prior to the finale to show that a reckoning was not to be postponed indefinitely. I felt they also leaned way too far into her being equally childish as Eda, which makes her really hard to take seriously. The straight man is a comedy staple for a reason.

Also, her last-minute redemption was way too rushed. She goes from holding a child hostage to “I’m a good person so you should trust me” in the span of, like, ten minutes. The reveal also casts all her previous interactions with Eda in a horrible light -- if she really felt so guilty about the curse, why does she constantly mock Eda for being cursed? All those jabs about Eda being old and weak and the curse making her ugly are just... yikes in retrospect.

The Emperor’s palace also has astoundingly poor security. They appear just as befuddled by basic magical tricks as we would be. A student illusionist should not be able to bypass all of their defenses; I would have expected them to have defenses and protocols against such things, given they live in a world where magic is commonplace.

I was also a little disappointed that Luz learned new glyphs by just getting them handed to her -- I was hoping she would analyze the language of the glyphs to figure out what they mean and start constructing her own from first principles; a more scientific method of learning than the witches’ innate abilities. But maybe they’re saving that for next season.

But otherwise, the show is still very good! I was laughing in every episode. I think the thing that makes it work so well is just how self-aware it is; this is really a story by fans, for fans. It knows how much we love this genre and all the things we wish could happen in it, and also demonstrates such a loving awareness of fandom terms that you just know the writers have participated themselves. I also like the overall messages it seems to be going towards -- found family, gatekeeping is bad, and your high school rival is not actually the spawn of Satan. (And after being subjected to The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, I am delighted that “witch” is a gender-neutral term here.) And the characters are also lovely -- I particularly love the precocious Gus, and King continues to be adorable. (Animal people actually acting like animals is one of my favorite things, and one of the big things I loved about The Amazing World of Gumball and Zootopia.)

Looking forward to next season!

[nancywheelxr]

i know half the fandom is writing these but could you write something about aziraphale and crowley the night after the almost apocalypse? maybe they go back to crowley's flat together? i just need more content and your writing is always perfect

Ooh, anon, I love this, everyone’s take on the missing scene is so valid, but I’m so glad to try my hand on it! Thank you so much, and I hope you love this one too!

*

The bus ride back to London is quiet and ordinarily uneventful; as if the World itself had exhaled deeply and retreated early after being forcefully faced with imminent destruction and escaping only very narrowly.

That sort of thing really does take a toll on you, Crowley thinks.

It also takes a few more minutes than necessary wandering the streets of London; first towards Aziraphale’s bookshop before Crowley remembers it burned down, then a couple contradicting turns around downtown before Crowley realizes Aziraphale is also doing the persuading but seems to have no idea where Crowley’s flat is or how to go about it on wheels.

Finally, the bus does what it always does when faced with confused passengers that don’t quite know what to do with themselves– it takes them to the nearest hotel, leaving shortly after with half a dozen people still inside wondering why on earth they detoured so.

“Room?” Crowley asks the receptionist hopefully, and she gives them a key without asking for any personal information. She forgets why Room 308 is booked seconds after they slip past her desk.

The silence hangs on steady during the elevator ride; it does try to play its usual cheerful elevator song, but Aziraphale huffs once, reproachfully, and it ceases and desists, properly remorseful, taking them straight to their floor.

It’s only when he’s finally inside the room, staring blankly at the bed and the quaint wallpaper and the tacky curtains that it hits Crowley.

Armageddon came and went, and yet they’re still here.

Freedom is a tangy taste on the tip of his tongue, intoxicating as a good wine, and Crowley feels drunk enough as it is.

“D’you reckon they’ll look for us here?” He says, sitting down heavily in what he refuses to think as his side of the bed. The blankets are a bit rough and a ghastly green color, but Crowley has just seen Satan get told off by an eleven-year-old, so he supposes his worldview can shift enough to allow for a bit of ugly in it.

“No, we bought ourselves a small reprieve, I believe,” Aziraphale answers absently, in that soft voice of his that shouldn’t travel so well in the space between them but does. He stays there, standing by the small desk as if considering the merits of remodeling the whole thing. “For all that it’s worth,” he adds even quieter.

Aziraphale looks tired, unbearably so, and it’s ridiculous how much Crowley wants to reach for him.

It occurs to him then, suddenly and striking, that there’s no reason not to, not from now on; however long that lasts.

“It’s worth enough,” he decides. Somewhere inside his chest, an unnamed emotion unfurls– well, not unnamed so much as ignored, stomped on, and hid snugly between his ribs where he daren’t look. Now, it flutters, and Crowley doesn’t have to breathe but his lungs still ache terribly. “Come on, angel.”

He leaves the invitation intentionally open-ended, lets Aziraphale choose how to interpret it. In his experience, all six thousand years of it, it’s best to let the angel be at his own pace; Crowley may prod and push, but ultimately it’s always Aziraphale that sets the tempo to their dance.

And it would be so easy– he sees the possibilities playing out in Aziraphale’s eyes, laid bare by their shared exhaustion and bubbling nerves from nearly dying mere hours ago.

Aziraphale smiles, a small and quiet thing that illuminates the room. Ineffable, indeed.

It’s a good thing Crowley still has his sunglasses on.

“Should’ve asked for a bigger bed,” is his only comment before taking off his suit jacket, leaving it meticulously folded over a chair. Crowley twitches, coiled tight on his skin, feeling drowsy and wide awake at the same time. “Are you planning on sleeping?”

Crowley considers this. He’s tired, exhausted, really, dead on his feet and his body still smells faintly of smoke and grease. “Yes, possibly until the next century if I could,” he says honestly, following suit and discarding of his jacket and shoes. After a minute of deliberation, the sunglasses go as well. “You?”

“I don’t normally indulge– never quite seen the point, truly– but if there ever was an occasion,” Aziraphale trails off, perhaps realizing there was no need for an apology here, or even an explanation. It had been a simple question, yes or no, and the answer is, perhaps, both a given and not at all, like many things regarding them are. “I do believe a couple hours of rest would do us well.”

The mattress dips, creaking as Aziraphale gets under the ratty covers, and Crowley sighs– the full-body kind, the we nearly died for good and where do we go from here? kind. You see, it’s a very heavy sigh. “I’m assuming we’ll figure out things in the morning, then,” he reminds him, thinking of the displeased, angry snarl in Beelzebub’s face and the incredulous one in Gabriel’s. They’ll be coming for them soon, that’s a given. “Regarding the whole implied doom situation.”

“Yes, yes, my dear,” Aziraphale says, almost shushing him, the bastard, and Crowley would have things to say about that, capital letters Things, too, if he hadn’t shifted, hand closing over Crowley’s in that tentative sort of way Aziraphale gets whenever he ventures in taking first steps of any kind, and it all gets jumbled in Crowley’s throat. “We’ll sort it out in the morning. Dawn is only a few hours away.”

Crowley sighs again. It’s as heavy as the first but perhaps a little shakier; his plants would lose all respect for him if they ever heard such a forlorn sound coming from his mouth.

They lapse into an easy silence, warm and familiar, lulling them back from the keyed-up state this whole Apocalypse mess had put them in, only broken when Aziraphale suddenly breaks into giggles. “It’s funny, isn’t it? When you think about it, now that it’s all settled.”

“What’s so funny?” He drawls, wary. This level of childlike glee is too similar to the cheap coin trick to be any sort of good.

“You and me,” Aziraphale says simply, like it’s perfectly obvious, “looking after some… some human child! For eleven years! And for absolutely no reason at all!”

Well, when you put it like that, and when Aziraphale is still giggling quietly into the night, Crowley supposes he can’t be blamed for cracking a smile or two, or snorting into his pillow. There are some things that are too infectious to be resisted– some types of bacteria, black mold, invading species in areas without natural predators, and, specifically in Crowley’s case, one very particular angel’s laughter.

“It was awful,” Crowley agrees, grin still infuriatingly in place, and gives up pretending today’s events haven’t shaken up things in the Arrangement and derivations thereof. His arm wraps around the angel, tugging him to his chest, and Aziraphale goes easily, no complain at all, if anything, he snuggles closer because his ultimate goal is clearly to end Crowley for good. “But it could have been worse, all things considered.”

“It wasn’t so bad, was it?” Aziraphale sounds almost wistful, as if he’s reminiscing a time long past and not the blink of an eye for immortals like them. “Then again, it wouldn’t have been half as bearable if it hadn’t been with you.”

The same viciously unnamed feeling from before swells on Crowley’s chest. It cackles, singsonging its name even though Crowley had refused to hear it the other hundreds of times during those 6000 years. It should not be possible for it to exist at all, not in Crowley and not over Aziraphale, and it should not be so light, and good, and true. See, those are not qualities you usually find in a demon.

Still, it grows.

“Go to sleep, angel,” he says, hoarse and too aware of how far from over this whole ordeal is. How it’s too soon to say to hell with it all and skip along to any sort of hopeful ending, to say anything along the lines they’ve been dancing around since the Beginning. “You’re talking nonsense.”

“Of course, dear boy,” Aziraphale relents with a final huff, relaxing further against Crowley, their hands remaining tangled, but something in his voice is insufferably knowing. “Tomorrow, then.”

“Tomorrow,” Crowley agrees, and it sounds an awful lot like I love you.

[kyliehorsegirl]

Snakes Ch.3 (Michael Langdon x Reader)

A/N: HOLY SHIIIT sorry that this chapter has taken forever! You guys have been so sweet I love you all! I hope you got your FLUFF fix with Just a Sketch because this one is sexy and smutty and gore. FUCK. Please enjoy little deviants.

WARNINGS: NSFW, GORE, BLOOD, SMUT, blood!kink, ritual and language

WORD COUNT: 2349

If you have NOT read the previous chapters or would like to get caught up they will be here** Ch.1  Ch.2 Ch. 2.5 

Read more of my Langdon stories on my MASTERLIST

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“What am I?” Y/n sat on his bed, eyes red and puffy. She stares blankly at the room.

 “You my dear, are a modern-day Lilith. We were made for each other.” He stands tall, his hands behind his back.

 “What does that even mean Michael? What do you mean we are made for each other? What are you.” Y/n looks to him, exhausted more mentally and emotionally than physically.

 “Hush love, I will answer all of your questions but you need to be patient.” He takes a seat beside her. “I have been searching for you for quite sometime now. With your powers suppressed it was a challenge to find you. Do you ever wonder how you got here or why you were chosen out of 7 billion people to be saved? I need you by my side.” Michael takes her hands in his. They feel cold, soothing almost.

 “But why? What are you?” She repeats to him. He offers a small smile.

 “I am a child product of Satan.” He laughs it off like it’s no big deal. Y/n’s eyes widen.

 “What? Are you- are you the anti-Christ? I literally sound so stupid even saying that.” Her eyes cast down, looking at their hands together. He takes her chin in his hands and brings her gaze to his.

 “You are not stupid. Don’t ever think that about yourself. If that is what makes sense to you, I suppose you could see me as that.”

 “What do you want from me?” She tries to tear her eyes away from his, but she can’t. His gaze pierces into her very soul.

 “It’s not what I want from you, it’s you. You are the one I want, the one I need by my side. I have been alone for so long. Sure I’ve had followers and people to help me accomplish my goals, but I get lonely. I want someone I can trust to stand by me. To care for me as I care for them. All these morons in here don’t hold a candle to you. I need you to see who you really are. Have you never thought about things that have happened in your life? Think hard. Has anything happened that make you question who or what you are?” Michael’s eyes wander throughout her face, analyzing her. It feels like her brain is a file cabinet and he is raking his fingers through.

 “There were, a few times now that I think about it. I tried to push those thoughts aside.” He slides off the bed onto his knees, his arms rest in her lap holding her small hands.

 “What were they?” He looks up only slightly, his height getting the better of him, even while he’s on his knees.

 “Several years ago, I found out my first and only boyfriend cheated on me. I was so angry, when I found out it was a girl who worked close by I was enraged. I was with my mom crying. That night they were dead, the news said they were caught in a fire and burned alive. I never had to testify. I didn’t think I was the one who did that. Another time I was walking through the park I was upset because my parents had a fight or something, a murder of crows fell dead at my feet, almost landing in a perfect circle. There are times where I would feel empty, like I was missing something. I never knew what that was.” She looks into his eyes. Playing with a curl that hung close to his face.

 “I have had similar feelings, I however, was able to channel a lot of my feelings. Still, there was an empty feeling inside. Like a piece missing from my very soul. You are that piece Y/n. You are the part that has been keeping me awake at night. I searched long and hard for you. I want to help you learn your powers.” He leans his face into her hand.

 “I think I would like that. I’m so tired of feeling like I don’t understand who I am.” He brings his face close to hers, giving a soft slow kiss to her pink lips. She presses harder into his plush lips. Michael breaks away.

 “I know what I showed you earlier was a test; the real test will be arriving soon. I don’t expect it do go the same way as the dream I gave you. However, they need to feel your power, they need to fear you. Don’t worry about me my love, but you are a force to be reckoned with.” Standing, he offers a hand to her as she stands as well. They make their way into the bathroom. He will teach her about his rituals.

 As they head into the cold marble bathroom, Y/n abandoned her shoes near the bed. She feels the cold bite of the floor underneath her feet. Michael brings her into a ring of candles. Backing away from her he slowly takes his clothes off, letting each article collapse to the floor.

 She can’t help but stand there in awe of him. No matter how many times he will be vulnerable and show her his skin, she will never get tired of it. The ambient light of the candles christen his muscles. Each curve is extenuated. His curls are licked by the lighting, creating an omniscient glow. She will never get over how truly beautiful and ethereal he is.

Michael makes his way to Y/n once he is bare. He glides his fingertips lightly over her skin. Her outlines the shape over her face; her cheeks, her lips as well as her jawline. He brings them down her jaw tracing the lines of her throat, cascading them down to her collar bones. She doesn’t know, but he finds her just as beautiful as she finds him. Of course, he has seen his fair share of beautiful people, but most of the time they are not beautiful on the inside.

 She isn’t pure, the purity he sees is that of someone he wants in his life. Pure for him, good for him. Michael is not good, but he will be good to her. That’s all that matters.

 He takes careful steps around her, dragging his fingertips along her shoulder before making his way to the zipper of her dress. His touch his soft, she sighs in content. Slender fingers slowly bring down the zipper, revealing her porcelain skin to him yet again. She shutters as he follows the curve of her spine.

 Michael’s presence leaves her as he retrieves a sliver knife. She looks down at the sharp object. Its clean, so clean she sees herself as if it were a mirror. Her black eyes shadow ever present in its reflection.

 “Is this how you got those cuts on your arm?” She removes her gaze from the knife, not seeing the cuts that were there the first night he revealed himself to her.

 “Yes, blood is key in a ritual like this.” He migrates behind her once more. She tilts her head to the side, looking at him through the corner of her eyes. He presses himself against her, desperate to feel her warmth. She leans into him. With a free hand, he starts at her thighs touching her where he can. It’s a soothing touch. Soon, his hands are at her hips, her waist. He brings a hand between her breasts. Holding her close. He presses his nose into her neck. He nuzzles into her neck, breathing her in. She can feel his breath near the back of her ear. His knife hand comes around to her front, pressing her hip, bringing her closer to him if that was possible.

 “What happened to the cuts?” Y/n breathes out, clouded with euphoria. He rotates his head up to gently bite her ear. A small moan escapes her lips.

 “I can heal, regenerate. After this my love, you will to. I want to be bound to you, belong to you. I want you to be bound to me, to belong to me.” He licks the shell of her ear, sending her over.

 “I’m ready Michael. I want us to be bound.” He gets in front of her. On his knees, he kisses everywhere on her thighs. Kissing closer and closer to the heat between them. Hands touch all over, he brings his hands up to the curve of her waist, pulling her down with him. She’s on her knees.

 His large fingers wrap on either side of her throat, tangling into her hair. He pulls her forward to kiss her. Their tongues intertwine. An exchange of biting each other’s lips commence. Michael pulls away and picks up the sliver blade. Dragging the sharp edge up his arms, he hisses with pain and pleasure. Blood pours down his arms, painting them in crimson. In symmetry, he does the same to the other arm. The blood runs, dripping off his fingertips. He draws a pentagram around them. Looking to her, he caresses her face, staining her skin red, blood red. He brings two fingers to her lips. Unspoken she takes his fingers into her mouth. Sucking and licking the blood off of them. The sharp tinge of copper bites her tongue. Michael closes his eyes and rolls his head back, moaning in pleasure.

 Opening his eyes once more, he places the blade in her hand. Looking at the blade, she hardly sees herself now. Its like having red vision. The sight of her pure skin gone. Gone from the reflection of the blade, gone from real life. She drags the blades up her own arms. Her once unstained arms, now coated in her warm blood. It flows out. She takes a moment to gaze at her blood. She loves it.

 He motions for her to trace over the pentagram in her own blood. Y/n brings her hands to her body, coating her breasts in blood. Michael leans in, licking the blood off her breast. He takes her fingers in his hand bringing them to his own mouth. He looks her in the eyes as he wraps his lips around her fingers, licking in between them. Her arousal is blended in the musk of their blood. He releases her fingers.

 “Father, we come to you. To be bound, bound forever, bound to no other, but each other. In your name father, allow the power to flow through her. Unlock the untapped potential.” Blood coats his neck as he feels himself. She can’t help but stare. It’s a beautiful site, unlike anything she has ever seen. He closes his eyes.

 Close your eyes. She hears in her head. She obeys. She feels hot, an overwhelming amount of heat coursing through her. She feels light, as if there was no gravity, it’s a high. One that she wouldn’t mind chasing. With eyes closed, Michael take her hands and flips them up. Her hands resting palm up in his.

 She feels a burn in her left wrist, a searing pain, she cries out. She feels heat in her right hand, its not hers, he too is feeling a searing pain in his left wrist. Her eyes remain closed. The feather-like feeling comes back, she realizes they are no longer on the ground. Eyes still closed, their legs intertwine with one another’s. Their bodies are close. As if they will become one. Releasing her hands, he wraps an arm around her back, pressing a hand into her spine. Her head falls back, a moan escapes them both. The feeling of being lowered overtakes her.

The feeling of sticky blood coats her back as she is pressed down onto the floor. Michael is on top of her.

 “Ava Satanas.” They chant in unison. Their eyes snap open, black. His bites her neck hard, leaving his mark. She runs her hand over his shoulders, leaving marks with her nails. She feels his mark she just left on his shoulder, on hers. They are becoming bound to one another. She spreads her legs wide for him, feeling his arousal inside of her, it’s a feeling. His hard-throbbing cock, plunges into her mercilessly. Her head slams back into the tile.

 “Michael.” She moans out. He thrusts into her fast and hard. She can feel the pleasure all the way down to her toes. She digs nails into his shoulder, she feels that too. The other hand makes way to tangle in his locks, pulling his hair. He moans out to her, it’s enough to bring her over the edge.

 “Y/n you are mine, you belong to me.” He growls at her, it shakes her to the bone.

 She shoves him over, asserting her dominance. He gasps in shock. She rides him hard, she’s in control.

 “And you belong to me, you are Mine Michael.” She growls back with the same intensity. Her dominance has him weak. His tries to bring his hands to her hips before she roughly slams them above his head. His cock twitches inside her.

 He can feel she is close, and he knows he is just as close. He rolls and slams her back down. On top again, he copies her, pinning her wrists in one hand above her head. She moans and cries at his assertiveness. He fucks her hard and fast.

 “Michael I’m so close, please.” She cries snapping her eyes shut. He thrusts into her hard releasing his seed into her womb. She feels a burst of warmth as she cums too. There are tears in her eyes. He pulls out of her and lays beside her. He gives her tender kisses, cupping her face. She holds onto his hands.

 “I love you Y/n, you are mine. My Lilith forever.” Michael holds her close to him. Her head laying on his toned chest.

 “I love you to Michael, my dark Prince.” She kisses his neck and lays her head back down. They lie there, in blood, the smell of sex, blood and sweat, puts them peacefully to sleep.

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[codyfernaesthetic]

Dichotomy

Part 8

Author’s note: The chapter in which Michael and Mallory are having none of each other’s shit. Also, buckle up, the slow burns about to become a wildfire.

Warnings: Language

Mallory became more comfortable with leaving her apartment as time went on, though she didn’t interact with anyone besides Rhoda. Not for lack of trying. She’d see other people, either at the various entertainment facilities they’d built or just in passing. At best, she was treated like a plague; avoided and snubbed, which she didn’t mind at all, she was used to it. Coco’s various functions and friendships had made her build up a callous to elitist bullshit. 

The one difference between then and now was Rhoda. She couldn’t remember having any friends when she’d moved to L.A., let alone a best friend; but Rhoda quickly earned the title, perhaps out of necessity, but not begrudgingly. Once they’d gotten over the hurdle of master/servant, they found they had a lot in common; a grounded sense of self, a natural helpfulness, and now even a deep love and respect for Princess Leia. Mallory couldn’t help but wish that they’d known each other under much different circumstances. Ones where there was no apocalypse or Antichrist, and she wasn’t a designer human grown in a lab, and they could have normal lives; where she’d have Rhoda to hang out with on her birthday, and not feel completely alone every waking second of the day like she’d been since moving...though she forgot why she moved.

But the nicest times with Rhoda, or at any point, were at the Sanctuary’s library. It was a less populated area, and so peacefully quiet; even in the apocalypse people obeyed library rules. 

It was a grandiose as the rest of the complex; floor to ceiling rows of books spanned rich mahogany shelves underneath a glass roof trimmed in gold, the floor the same reflective black marble. They’d get lost just searching for books, any kind; Rhoda was most fascinated by history, inundating Mallory with questions about what used to be America or other countries. To which she would shrug most of the time, she’d never been an A student in history. Oddly enough, Mallory found herself drawn to collections of fairytales or myths; enthralled by tales of witches and fairies, gods and monsters. She’d never considered herself a fanciful person, but felt an irresistible pull to the mystical.

Their peace, however, was interrupted one day when a servant entered the library and made a beeline for the two of them with an envelope in his hand. He stopped, gave a quick bow and held out the envelope.

“An invitation from Lord Langdon.”

They looked at each other, confused and scared. Mallory took the envelope carefully. It was blood red, a golden seal with the indent of a goat enclosing its contents. She popped it open, unfurling a short letter in a thick, cursive hand.

Mallory, may I have the pleasure of your company for dinner tonight? I await your answer with bated breath.-Michael Langdon

She gave the messenger a deadpan stare, “You can’t be serious.”

“He needs an answer,” they responded just as blankly.

She furrowed her brows, then nodded gravely, “Yes.”

They bowed and left in a hurried pace. Leaving the two women frozen in place.

“God, that man is pretentious,” Mallory muttered, rolling her eyes.

“He wants to appear calm and in charge,” Rhoda replied, more so to herself.

Mallory turned to her, “How’d he know where I’d be?”

She lifted up her arm with the black band, “Our wristbands are tracked.”

“Comforting.”

* * *

Lydia had become another fixture of Mallory’s new life, a slightly more annoying one, but still welcome. And of course, she just had to make Mallory a dress for the evening, even though she insisted she could wear any number of the others; but she was determined. Lydia was practically buzzing with chaotic energy as she designed, made the pattern, and started sowing this new dress in a single hour. 

“Is that satanic influence or pure talent?” Mallory joked.

“Both,” she replied, not looking at her.

The final product, finished just in time, left Mallory speechless. It was a soft, flowing white dress. The bodice was encrusted with gold trim and adornment, leading down to a skirt with feathery fringe; the sleeves open and sheer, draped and falling off the shoulders. Rhoda helped place the finishing accessory of a golden crown of flowers.

“What do you think?” Lydia asked, glowing with pride.

“It’s gorgeous,” she said turning to her, “It’s very angelic.”

She chuckled with a wink, “I thought it’d be a nice little contrast.”

Mallory smiled and looked in the mirror again.

Words were scratched on the mirror; slowly each letter appeared, line by line. Time seemed to stall. Her gaze was set; unmoving, as the impossible happened right before her eyes once again. Eventually, the message was complete, and it was incomprehensible to her.

Spiritu duce, in me est. Deduce me in tenebris vita ad extremum, ut salutaret inferi. Descensum!

“Mallory?”

Rhoda placed her hand on her shoulder, “Are you ok?”

She gave no reaction, not wanting to alert Lydia. 

“I’m fine.”

The same messenger from before arrived at her apartment with the same breakneck speed she’d delivered the invitation. The moment Rhoda opened the door, the escort looked at Mallory and informed her, “Lord Langdon requests Miss Mallory come alone.”

Mallory could see Rhoda’s grip tightened on the doorknob and the sudden fear in her eyes.

“It’s fine, Rhoda,” she assured, “I’ll be fine.”

As she left, Lydia called out after her, “Good luck, dear!”

She felt like a teenager going on her first date, her doting parents watching out for her. The entire situation both filled her with dread and a weird humor; of all things she never expected to happen, the first was a nuclear apocalypse, and the second was dinner with the Antichrist. She wondered if her reckoning had finally come for the Temple incident; she had flashes of blood and gore pass through her imagination, all the different ways Langdon could kill her.

At least she knew she had a defense mechanism; she had no idea how to use it, but it was something. She’d tried to manifest it on her own free will, but no matter how hard she focused, she would hit a brick wall. Maybe, she thought, it was only an emotional response. Maybe the threat of dying will be all it takes for me to go off. That is if I get the-

Her thought stopped as they exited the main complex, a motorized cart waiting outside. It wasn’t anything fancy or futuristic like she’d come to expect, just a simple gray cart.

“What, does he live in an entirely different building?”

They got into the cart without a word. She took that as a yes. She slipped into the cart and they began to drive. The artificial lights had been dimmed to a more evening-time atmosphere, the outside of the glass looking as green and dark as before. They came upon a house 20 miles eastward of the complex, as gothic as Mallory expected. It was Victorian architecture, the wood painted a deep red with accents of black. A black iron staircase led up to stain glass doors under a spherical archway, which to her looked like a mouth, the black crown molding its ready teeth. The escort parked and led her up the stone pathway, the familiar darkness creeping up around her. 

The escort rang the doorbell, receiving an immediate answer. 

Michael opened the door, fully clad in gothic regalia; though not as extravagant as expected. The escort bowed deeply without a word, immediately leaving at the wave of Michael’s hand. Within a blink, the two were left alone, Mallory still standing on the stairs.

“Oh, Mallory,” he mused, looking her over, “you didn’t have to dress up for me.”

She restrained herself from rolling her eyes, didn’t want to get killed too early.

He raised an eyebrow with a smug grin, “Still so shy?”

“What would you like me to say?” She crossed her arms, “Thanks for inviting me to dinner? Nice place you got here?”

“Gratitude is always a good way to start.”

She stared at him blankly.

“Or not.”

He stepped back, extending his arm to invite her inside. She cautiously slipped passed him, feeling her skin tingle from his gaze never leaving her. She looked around, the inside not as loft and flamboyant as the exterior. It was stately, like a house that came from old money. 

“I wanted a house similar to my childhood home...” he told her, “one of them, anyway.” 

He turned to the left and started walking, she followed silently. They entered a dining room, not dissimilar to...

She couldn’t finish the thought, like the memory was hiding from her.

Food was already laid out on the table, nothing fancy at all; steak, potatoes, a few vegetables on two plates at each end, wine glasses beside them; a simple candelabra in the center. 

“Ms. Mead has opted not to join us this evening,” he said in passing as he pulled out her chair.

She obliged and sat down, the strangeness of the whole situation growing in the pit of her stomach; she thought of the Twilight Zone, or like being in a simulation where the ones controlling it only barely know how everyday life operates. 

“Why am I here?”

He had already begun to eat, “I feel as if we got off on the wrong foot.”

She didn’t move, “That’s a weird way to say you poisoned me.”

“I told you, it was a test,” he lifted the glass to his lips, “And you seem to me to be alive and well.”

“And are you trying to fix that?”

He set down the glass, looking at her with a mixture of offense and concern, “Mallory, I’m a man of my word. You passed the test, you made it to the Sanctuary, why would I take that away from you?”

She shrugged, “Seems like something you’d do.”

“Perhaps you don’t know me as well you assume, then.” 

Something in his tone, or in his eyes, was off; not as confident, not as clear. 

“Just as I don’t know you,” he continued, “I haven’t forgotten your coyness at your first interview,” he smiled, “I was hoping this would establish a new sense of trust. Perhaps we can be friends.”

She huffed, “You have an odd way of making friends.”

“Must explain my lack of them.” 

There was the shift again. A twinge of...sadness? A wavering.

He leaned closer, curling his fingers under his chin, “There are so few interesting people in the world. People you can’t figure out within the first five minutes of meeting them. I like getting to know these people. See what makes them tick.”

She nodded, finding herself slipping into peculiar comfort, “I’m an experiment.”

“You’re fascinating,” he mumbled to himself, “Tell me about Coco.”

Words spilled from her, like an overflowing glass, “She was a Capricorn, hated hazelnut, the color orange, and Lana Del Ray. She wanted an iced mocha with exactly 10 large ice cubes every morning at 8:30 on the dot. One time she asked me how to spell the word “insatiable” for a tweet,” she chuckled, “I still have no idea what that tweet was. She once threw my phone into my drink because I wasn’t paying attention to her while she was talking. I was texting my mom,” her voice became sad, but her mind somewhat struggled to pull the memory from the depths, “She’d just had a mastectomy and I hadn’t seen her face to face in three years.”

“And yet you mourn her,” he whispered, his eyes fixed on her like a trance.

After a pause, she looked down in thought, “She was no stranger to being a bitch but she was still a person. I never thought she deserved to die. She needed me to take care of her to watch her and make sure she was ok. For all her bravado she was like a baby bird that really didn’t know how to flap its wings. And it was my job to help her,” a tear slipped down her cheek onto the plate, “And the one time I don’t...” 

He stood from the table, slowly walking towards her. She was weeping now, not of her own free will.

“I should’ve seen that something was wrong, I should’ve known. I could’ve done something. I failed her. And then I got to come back, I got to keep living. And I can’t help but keep thinking that I don’t deserve to when she didn’t.”  

He crouched down next to her, using his thumb to brush away a tear, “Why did she matter so much to you?”

She shook her head, I have no idea. I just felt so protective of her. She was such a short part of my life, yet I felt this connection to her, more than anyone” she blinked confusedly, “...that I can remember at least.”

He touched her hand, entwining it in a comforting grip, “When you lose someone you love, you very quickly seek for an outlet to express your rage,” his eyes were wet, “sometimes even after your scapegoat has been sacrificed on the altar of your vengeance, there’s still some residue of anger left over for yourself.”

They stared at each other, something passing between them; a spirit of humanity, a shared grief. For a moment, she forgot who...what he was. His words sunk into her heart and made grooves for empathy to flow through like a river through tunnels. Her hand reached over and rubbed his shoulder, she didn’t know what he’d been through, but she knew she desired to relieve the pain. 

Something changed when she touched him, his eyes were filled with a new emotion, determination, “Would it relieve some of your grief if Brock was killed?”

She was taken aback by the question. She didn’t answer at first, her mouth having to catch up with her mind. 

“No,” she replied sadly, “No more death.”

He shoved away from her, and stood, an obvious aura of anger boiling over the surface, quickly dissolving the tenderness of the moment, “How selfless,” he growled, “and utterly apathetic of you.”

Her defenses shot up, “What?”

He looked ready to rip her apart, “You say you cared about Coco and yet you feel absolutely no desire to do anything about the one who took her life.”

Energy began to stir in her fingertips, “Not wanting revenge isn’t the same as indifference.”

He slammed his fist on the table, making her jump, “You didn’t give a fuck about Coco,” he leaned in, snarling, “She was your project, your tool to find your own self-satisfaction in helping such a stupid, vapid little heiress keep her life together.”

The fire began to coil in her chest and surge through her veins. She balled her hands into fists, “That’s not true.”

He laughed viciously, “You’re glad the bitch is dead, you only wish you had a replacement to keep up your illusion that you’re in control of your own life,” his eyes were wild with rage, “Is that your dark place, Mallory? Making the weak rely on you so you can feel better about yourself? You didn’t give a damn about her!”

She pushed away form the table, standing to face him, closing in on him, her voice as enraged, “You don’t know the first thing about me.”

”I know too well,” he met her confrontational stance.

Thick tension swirled around them. Sparks of power flaring between them, a sign of deeper energy, begging to explode.

He grimaced, “Do you know why I haven’t killed you yet, Mallory?”

“Because you’re afraid I’ll come back again,” she spat.

She was against the wall in a second, Michael’s fingers crushing her throat, his other hand tightening around her wrists above her head, his legs pinning her firmly. His hot breath ghosting over her face and neck with each word of venom, “Because you’d take it like a martyr,” he spoke dangerously low, she could barely struggle underneath his grip, her body going cold, “you’d grit your teeth and watch as I gutted you like a goddamn animal.” His eyes traced over her lips, she felt his breathing quicken, his heartbeat race, “You’d stare at me with those big brown eyes and whisper forgiveness from your pretty little mouth. You’d take every single blow with saintly silence. And I personally don’t like getting that angry,” he squeezed her neck, strangling a terrified gasp from her mouth, “Congratulations, you’re too infuriating to kill.”

She pushed him back with inhuman strength. He flew to the other wall, his head slamming with such force that for a moment she worried it had cracked. Panicking, she ran out of the room, nearly falling out the front door.

Ms. Mead came running in, seeing Michael on the ground, disoriented, “ What the hell happened?!”

* * *

She didn’t look back or think. She just ran. All she knew was the moving ground beneath her feet. She just had to-

She was in her room. Like a blip. Her body appeared in her room. Rhoda screamed, scared at first, before realizing it was her. 

“Mallory!” 

The world was shaking. Mallory’s eyes widened, seeing blurs of color and light. She collapsed to the floor.

“Mallory!” Rhoda shook her, crying.

Words came from her, spewing out with perfect clarity.

“Spiritu duce, in me est. Deduce me in tenebris vita ad extremum, ut salutaret inferi. Descensum!”

Her vision began to fade, the world around her getting smaller and smaller like she was descending into a tunnel. Pressure bared down on her body, and she sank lower and lower. Darkness covered her, a dull ring pierced through her ears, her skin feeling numb...

Blinding white light exploded all around her, then left as quickly as it came; replaced by gentle blue. The ground was solid beneath her; she wiggled her fingers, soft grass poking against her skin. She touched her face, feeling a temperate warmth on her cheek. It took her a moment before she realized...

Oh, it’s the sun...

The thought was so strange, the sensation even stranger. She sat up, using her arm to shield her eyes as her other hand swept over the grass. Looking around, she saw miles of open field stretch on into eternity, splashes of color dotting everywhere from the myriads of flowers. She stood, examining more of her surroundings, not seeing-

“Mallory!” 

She whirled around, seeing a large glass building, similar in shape to a gazebo. The beams of sunlight bounced off its roof, casting a heavenly glow around it. She saw a figure standing in front of it, whom she assumed had called her. She couldn’t make out any features, or details, but recognized the voice as feminine...

And familiar

“Come inside!” she heard the figure say again, “We have a lot to talk about!”

A burst of energy surged through her veins, and Mallory found herself running; but without exerting any effort, as if she were a breeze nearly passing through with ease. She stopped at the front of the building, even bigger up close, and looked inside. It was a greenhouse, sections of different flora organized neatly throughout. A woman, honey-toned hair cascading down her back, stood watering a hanging plant.

“Hello?” Mallory called out carefully.

The woman turned. It had been months since she’d seen this face, but the memory appeared like a solid figure out of a pillar of smoke; along with a faint whisper, a ghost of remembrance.

Cordelia

“Mallory,” she smiled, placing the watering can down and walking up to the young woman, brushing a tuft of hair behind her ear with all the nurture of a mother.

“I’m so happy to see you.” 

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

Ooh ohh i would also like to request a single parent Mc but for Hilf please.

I love you to Anon. Alright, similar deal with the L&L one- I change the Kiddo each time for fun. 

Long post

Mac

The kid is a little girl who is five and it the result of a relationship in high school. She’s a bio kid who had blonde hair and is super girly. Like think GIL MC.

Mac is very nervous about the kid. It’s not like a ‘Oh, she was with a guy before’ nervous or anything- Mac is way to cool for that- but it’s a ‘I really hope I don’t hurt this kid or her mom and shit a kid’ nervous.

Also, this kid is pink. PINK.

Mac and MC are very good parents though Mac kind of takes the role of the disciplinary parent more than MC given she is a cop.

Mac is a really good mom, she just struggles hard with bonding with the kid because she has never been into that stuff. Until she shows the kid some comics and BAM. Bonding time!!

Beu makes the mistake of trying to mess with the kid. His ass is GRASS.

Mac is the parent who will go to every recital and competition to cheer her kid on. When the girl starts showing an interest in gymnastics, Mac is all over that.

Mac’s parents are grandparents now. As soon as they find out that their daughter’s GF is a mom? Grandparents.

Mac gets called mom like by the third season and it’s one of the most emotional moments of her life.

Annabelle loves the kid and is like a big sister.

The kid plans on being bitten when she’s older because she doesn’t want to lose her moms.

Diego

The kid is a little boy who is eight and has cerebral palsy. MC met him on her year of travel. He was a foster kid cause his parents didn’t want him and he had really bad anxiety due to being abandoned. MC took him in after coming to care for him.

Deigo knows the kid very well as he has been the kid’s doctor for years. The kid really likes Deigo.

Deigo takes a longer time to accept being with MC because of all of his self-doubt about himself. it’s the kid who helps most in getting them together cause he is really hopeful Deigo will be like his new dad.

Deigo is kind of overprotective of the kid because of Eva and stuff. The kid doesn’t mind but it does get a little exhausting.

The kid calls him his dad fairly quick and Deigo just… kind of shuts down for a moment but he’s so, so, so happy.

Deigo and MC are so happy together with their son, it’s a little gross.

The whole shit with Dracula terrifies the hell out of Deigo, he’s so worried about the kid and MC. He actually considers leaving but he can’t. He can’t lose his family.

Deigo doesn’t want to bite the kid cause he’s worried about the kid being a vampire with cerebral palsy and the kid isn’t sure about being bitten either when he’s older.

Razi

This kid is a four-year-old bio kid who is a girl with super curly natural hair. Her dad was an African exchange student MC ran into while on her travels and her dad is kind of in her life but is more of a correspondence kind of dad as he’s to busy with his life and never wanted kids.

Razi and the kid get along great. Razi’s crush on her mom made him get along amazingly with this little girl already and the two are way to cute together. Kind of gross really…

Razi is dad as soon as he and MC get together because she’s already thought of him as such anyway!

Razi is all over anything the kid is into but what she is really into his history and stories. Like already this girl just wants to learn everything.

 AUNT ROSHNI. (and future Zizi Mothman)

Razi being utterly terrified of Baba Yaga ever meeting his kid and when he learns how close she was this entire time… Razi has a full-fledged panic attack.

Razi putting up with the makeovers all little kids give their parents and just being so stupidly charming about it.

Razi being really worried about having to watch this little girl die and just being unable to accept it. Like at all. No, this is his baby girl. He can’t…

JD

The kid here is a snarky ten-year-old who is a trans boy who got kicked out by his parents. MC found him on her travels and took him in. he’s very defensive of MC and has picked fights over her honor before. 

JD and the kid already get along. The kid loves how rebellious JD is. But like… JD is even more like ‘this is casual’ between them and MC because they really do not want to ruin the kid’s life or be a parent.

Kid may or may not punch JD for making his mom cry and there is issue between the two for a good long while. Eventually, the kid stops with the anger but… yeah.

JD is not the greatest parental figure. MC has to be the authoritarian one because JD is very much not. But at the same time JD is fully aware of the lines and won’t cross them.

The kid going under Rip’s spell is terrifying. JD is a force to be reckoned with.

JD doesn’t really become Bibi until they give up their freedom for MC and the kid sees how much JD loves their mom. 

Hikari is the worst aunt. 

Satan is not allowed near the kid. JD is vicious about protecting their kid. That is their son and his fucker of a granddad will not touch him!

Nessie is even more upset about JD having a family. SHE COULD HAVE GIVEN THEM THAT.

JD plans on figuring out immortality for the kid. Satan offers it along with immortality for MC but… the catch is to much. Of course, the kid drinks cider along with his mom later on…

Vanessa

The kid here is a three-year-old bio kid who is the result of a relationship with a soldier who died in Iraq. Said kid is a little girl who likes dolls and soccer.

Vanessa… is not good with kids. Like she’s not bad just… not good. At all. Especially little three-year-olds who just get so confused about what’s going on…

She tries though! She teaches the kid a few self-defense techniques to protect herself. 

The kid and her bond over anime. Kiddo likes the sparkly anime and even has a plushie Altea she loves that her aunty Grace gave her.

Vanessa and MC have a slow burn as MC isn’t sure about a relationship with someone who has a dangerous job like Vanessa and Vanessa isn’t sure about a relationship with a single mom. 

Vanessa kind of embraces being a mom a little. She really likes how happy the kiddo is and likes teaching her stuff. 

Kiddo doesn’t call her mom yet (the third season sometime maybe?) and is upset she ran off.

Vanessa being super protective of the kiddo as she is also a target from Dracula’s brides.

Antonio

The kid is a five-month-old baby boy who is a bio baby from a one night stand.

Antonio had no idea that MC was a mom. He would have never kidnapped her if he knew. MC has the baby in her car when she goes to the diner and Antonio doesn’t realize there’s a baby in the back until like… they’re halfway to his place.

Then it’s shit. Because he can’t go through with this but what does he do now?

Then Igor happens and he can’t let him grab her or the baby and it’s just fucking chaos. MC is not pleased with Antonio or his reasons. Victor honestly finds this entire thing hilarious.

Side note, Victor with a baby is utterly hilarious.

Antonio is actually really good with babies? Like scary good? And the baby loves him? Victor stares in shock.

Baby does not have the right gene or whatever to bring back the dead. Baby is safe.

Antonio spoils the shit out of the baby and MC. Like the nicest stuff and the most expensive baby stuff that has the most approval. He is so focused on making sure the kid is healthy and happy.

His and MC’s relationship goes how it goes in game cause Antonio is a little weary but also kind of happy at being able to hang out with a baby a little.

Antonio just assumes the role of a dad so well. Everyone is surprised.

[a-brave-light]

As a long-practicing witch and a scholar who studies media portrayals of witchcraft, I see the current witchy zeitgeist, which often posits witchcraft as an aesthetic, or an interesting approach to self-care, as both helpful and hindering to women’s empowerment right now. I’d love to see a deeper engagement, a better understanding of the history and culture of modern witchcraft, amidst all the witchy fashion, DIY décor, and weekend spellcraft. But even more than that, I worry that the many years of effort modern witches have spent offering disclaimers about their spiritual practices, ensuring our friends, lovers, neighbors and the mass media that we don’t worship the devil, may have all been for naught.

This is an interesting little article, but I have my misgivings about the author’s vantage point here. She seems to understand the difference between Wicca and witchcraft as a practice, but it’s not explicitly stated.  She refers to witches as a monolithic group with similar beliefs, when that’s...not really true.  

There are, after all, satanic witches. There are Christian witches. I’ve never personally met them, but there are atheist or secular witches as well. Witchcraft is a practice and it isn’t necessarily tied to a religion, ideology, or faith.  

More interesting to me, though she doesn’t dwell on it, is her mention of the recent turn in the explicit portrayal of witches as satanic or demonic, for example in the movie Suspiria, and the new Sabrina reboot on netflix.  I can understand her concern, but honestly, I think there’s something else happening there.   

As long as Abrahamic religions are the majority in the world, so will the risk of this “satanic panic” and misunderstanding of witches and witchcraft.  It’s happened before, it will continue to happen, and I don’t feel afraid for my safety in that regard. Religious persecution is already happening, and it’s not witches they’re going after.  I’m frankly more concerned with the welfare of my Muslim and Jewish neighbors, for those who are PoC, trans, or immigrants at the moment. 

This shift toward portrayals of witchcraft as demonic: I wonder if it has to do with a widespread feeling I’ve noticed among my peers.  It’s...well, apocalyptic.  Something big is imminent, and I’m not sure what it is, but it doesn’t feel like a good thing.  It could be the amalgamated anxieties about fascism and nationalism at home and abroad, about the impending doom of climate change, but it all seems to be driving relentlessly towards a breaking point.  

Towards the end of Suspiria, a witch character, who seems to be demonic, says to another character in a reassuring way, “We require guilt, and shame, but not yours.” 

Maybe it’s all an expression of a sort of reckoning, an acknowledgement of the mass surrender of sanity to base fear and cruelty, of the chaos and hardship to come. 

May we be ready.  

[catsnuggler]

@gjavavont we really should talk sometime, btw. I often see you in my notes, but haven't taken the time to talk to you yet, and that's rather unfortunate. Anyway, I remembered that you invited me to answer the other apostate questions if I felt like it, and, well, I think I'd like to, actually, so here they are.

I'm going to put this under a cut because the answer to the first question, in particular, is incredibly long. Like. You would not believe how fucking long it is. You would either think I just think angels and demons are neat, or that I don't really care. Nope.

Tw for mention of limb loss. And very, very mild NSFW. Plus discussion of religious trauma syndrome (RTS).

7. Do you like angels or demons?

I do! And, actually... I've wanted to be a writer for years, but have yet to write a page for my ideas. Most of my writing ideas regard ancient history, particularly "barbarian" peoples resisting Roman domination, or perhaps those who already threw off the Romans throwing off a local tyrant. However, relevant to this question, I've had, for years, the idea to write a book about a fallen archangel.

The basic premise would be somewhat similar to the basic premise of Mormonism: there's a war in Heaven before the Earth is populated, where God represents choice (but only the choice to follow him will result in salvation), and Lucifer, later Satan, represents the salvation of all, but with no choice to deviate from his will (in the sense that it would be impossible to do so, not in the sense that you could but would be punished for it; like you're a drone and can't think for yourself).

Here's where it deviates: I don't think, if I remember correctly, that Mormons believe in archangels? And they don't really believe in fallen angels the way some Christians do. Plus, the Mormons don't believe the war in heaven, which they believe happened before mortal life, was a literal war, but that souls simply chose to follow God or Satan, and those who followed the latter were cast down to "Outer Darkness" (Mormon Hell, basically). Unlike Mormonism, my story would have that war be an actual war. Spirits would only be functionally immortal, impervious to mortal weapons, but able to be killed by spiritual/holy weapons. And the main character, again, would be a fallen archangel.

I don't know what his name would be, but he would be a fallen archangel who resisted both God and Satan. He'd recognize that to have choice only to be confined to a certain, narrow range of choices, lest you be punished for not falling strictly in line, is not really choice at all, so if that's good, if that's light, then he is opposed to the light. Likewise, he rejects outright the proposal to give up all choice whatsoever and succumb to domination, thus he refuses the... urgh, I want to say "darkness" because I'm just thinking in terms of sunlight vs shadows, of open truth/"truth" vs cloak-and-dagger-in-the-night deception, but the terms "light" and "dark", "white" and "black", are racially-charged. That's one of my most major problems. And my idea for his true archangel form is that he is black on one side, and white on the other, with a black eye on his white side and a white eye on his black side, so like, not arguing against scrapping that if that's what I have to do, just saying I would also have to scrap that if I scrap the use of the terms "black" and "white" to refer to Satan's and God's respective sides.

I'd choose to go with God being one personage for the story. Supporting Trinitarianism, with God just being called different things when he does different things, would make the story a lot easier to write.

So, basically being an anarchist, who is alienated from his family because he can't choose either dominionist side, yet is pained by his love for them, and his desire for them to stop their conflict and to choose peace and freedom; and being cast down for rebelling against God, but also thankfully separated from Satan, he spends his days wandering the earth as an immortal, disguised as a mortal. I don't know what his skin color would be, although if he's been on the earth ever since modern humans were on the earth some 300-odd thousand years ago, I'd say his skin would have to be dark to some extent, possibly Black, because he wanted to/had to blend in. He changes his appearance on occasion to further disguise himself, but usually stays with the original appearance he chose. His eyes would be golden, and would glow under certain circumstances.

Let me be clear, his skin color would be his choice, but would not be a curse. Fuck that racist Mormon bs. God does agree with, and even mildly order him to be dark-skinned, anyway, in the story, but that's only because the first humans are dark-skinned and God wants him to blend in. As terms of surrender after God won the war, God ordered that those who lost would tempt people, to test them in accordance with his will, and the best way to be able to do that would be to not stick out like a sore thumb. So if nobody had white skin until between 20k-50k years ago, that would be suspicious, wouldn't it? But the skin color thing is not a punishment, not a curse, no way to that racism.

Back to the fallen archangel's character, rather than appearance, he spends hundreds of thousands of years in exile on Earth, traveling, learning from humans, but largely keeping to himself. He has hidden enclaves, libraries, across the world. Rumors of immortal individuals, such as the Comte de Saint-Germaine and Nicolas Flamel, are inspired by him. He is forced to see humanity commit cruelty upon cruelty against itself, and to not lift a finger to stop it, only to cajole, as God decrees that there must be cruelty within the world for people to ever learn, become purified, and worship him; cruelty which, though required by God, is largely caused by Satan, who knows he's doing work for God, but is sated by the fact that he is nonetheless denying more souls to God and causing suffering for his children. The fallen archangel is mentally ill from witnessing death for as long as he has, only being allowed to do what a mortal can to save others. He keeps himself distant, consequently, because it hurts less when he doesn't know the people who die. Or so he tells himself.

Eventually, by the 2000's CE, the seven seals - now I'm borrowing from more traditional christianity and legend - are broken, and the end times are upon the Earth. A final great war between God, his angels, and his followers, versus Satan, his demons/fallen angels, and his followers, will commence for years. Satan has become a lot more powerful since his battle with God long, long ago. The forces of each are about evenly matched, but Satan's forces are ultimately stronger.

Back to the beginning of the end times, the fallen archangel already knows exactly what's happening. God and Satan both try to bring him in, to turn the tide in their favor. He refuses. They both try to assassinate him, destroying his sanctuaries, and they fail. He has to run, and finds himself in a conflict he wanted to avoid, as he in fact wanted to avoid conflict all of his existence. But since God and Satan are fighting, and Satan is more powerful than God thought, the fallen archangel can finally be himself. He can finally rise, finally fight, though he wished it didn't come to that. Finally, he may have a chance to end the conflict, and end it right. If he can, he'll do anything to bring peace and freedom, true freedom, to the universe.

I don't know what would happen from there, save that he'd have a force that would neither be as strong as God's, nor Satan's, but would still be a force to reckon with. He'd have to wait for the right moment to strike - then the final battle happens. His troops lie in wait, til one of the stronger contenders has nearly bested the other - then they strike.

The fallen archangel, covered in the blood of mortals and immortals alike, sweating and exhausted, every divine and unholy muscle in his body strained, fights through the hosts to face the enemy generals. He finds God, largely beaten up by Satan, about to be killed. The fallen archangel has a traumatic relationship, as previously mentioned, with the both of them, but he loves them, and he loves his father. He can see that Satan long since lost his genuine desire to protect his family, and that God still does have his own genuine desire, it's just that his method is entirely wrong, his structure is entirely wrong. He wants God to stop. He wants Satan to stop. He wants the bloodshed to end.

Instead, Satan kills God. Stabs him in the chest. God whimpers "Lucifer..."and falls to the ground, but his head is caught and propped up by the fallen archangel. God gives him some last words of love and apology, but is unable to finish his sentence before he breathes the last of what would otherwise have been his eternal, unending breath.

Satan laughs, and mocks God and the archangel alike, after the archangel has wept for a brief moment. The archangel is overwhelmed - he is filled with grief, hatred, and love. He loves Lucifer, but not Satan. And he loved God. He had to take him down, but he loved him. He is filled with a burning need for vengeance, causing his transformation into his true fallen archangelic form. He slowly stands, and as he does, the tears rolling down his cheeks turn to blood; then, he is engulfed in flames, explosive in their brilliance yet rendering the light out of one's vision from the sight; and then his form slowly emerges as the flames dissipate, all while he still rises. His left side, white, with a pure black eyelid, crying pure black tears, his left wing looks like a bat-wing but pure white, the ivory-shade sword is magnificent and sleek; his right side is black, his right eyelid is white and crying pure white tears, his right wing is obsidian-black, and like the wing of an eagle, its feathers sleek, his blade is pure black and looks nearly to itself be made of obsidian with how jagged it is, roughly serrated in places. His swords are of equivalent length and heft. His gaze was downcast when he was on the ground, but his face slowly turned upward as he rose, a grim, determined, closed-eyed look of concentration emerging from the pitiful expression he had before, though the tears remain, as described. He begins to rise above the ground after standing, flying while his wings slowly, majestically flap. And then he opens his eyes, his expression becoming more furious as his eyes, his right eye pure white and his left eye pure black, flash open, immediately followed by him unsheathing his blades - his left arm grabbing the right, his right arm, over his left arm, grabbing the left - in a split second. Satan laughs, transforms into his (stereotypically red, goat-like, with wings) form, taunts him as he pulls out his blades, inviting him to attack, which the archangel accepts as he launches himself swiftly at Satan.

Their battle is intense, destroying the broken structures around them as they fight, each strike of blade on blade can be heard for miles, from the most grating steely sheen-shriek of blades sliding against each other, to supersonic booms when the flats of the blades hit each other head-on.

They're evenly-matched, evenly attacking and blocking each other's attacks, but then Satan lands a blow. The blow isn't fatal, but is grievously painful. The fallen archangel has an instant realization after feeling the pain - this isn't just about his vengeance. It can't just be about his vengeance. It isn't just about him. It isn't just about his loss. If he dies - no. Whether he dies or not, if Satan wins, the universe trades one slavery for another. He can't allow this. God must be avenged, yes, though his cause was wrong; and Satan must pay for what he has done, even though God had to be stopped anyway, and he is still the fallen archangel's brother; but more so, more importantly than anything, the fallen archangel must prevail, even if he isn't there to see it, for the freedom of all. He is, at once, encompassed with a divine, pure sense of justice, a sense of justice that does not necessarily require his own death, but which he will fulfill even if it comes to that.

In the instance that he is filled with this divine purpose, a blinding white emit explodes from him, as well as a shock wave which sends Satan back to land hard against a wall. When Satan opens his eyes, he sees the archangel in what appears to be his mortal guise, but with a near-blinding white light emanating from him, gold-yellow light shining from his eyes to the point you can't see his irises, and blue-white flames emanating from twin sabers, both held low and painting down and behind the being that was once a fallen archangel, but who has transformed into a god. A healed scar is visible from where he was cut by Satan. A look of impending judgment from this new god stares deep into Satan's eyes.

Satan is horrified. He knows he can't win now. He knows he is going to die if he continues fighting. He knows he has to escape. He knows how unlikely it is that he will.

The new god charges forth, raining unending and lightning-quick strikes at Satan, who is only barely able to block the blows as he looks on, unblinkingly, in sheer terror at his adversary. Satan is backed further and further as he blocks attack after attack after attack, his mind screaming to find an escape but unable to find one as he is backed toward a pillar. Finally, his back hits the pillar after he blocks a blow, which surprises him just long enough for one of his blades to be hit out of his hand and flying into a wall, shocking him for another split second long enough for his right hand, holding his other blade, to be sliced off. He falls against the pillar, holding the stump on his right arm, opens his mouth in pain, and faintly hears a low, bloodcurdling scream, not knowing if it's his own, as his nerves are overwhelmed with pain, and his ears were already pounding from rapid blood flow caused by the intensity of the fight.

The new god swiftly finishes him off, with wide but well-practiced and swift swings, the first lifting him up off the ground, his body sliding off the blade, as the second slices him again on the torso as his body hits the ground. Two more slices, in an x-pattern, are delivered on the torso, followed by twin stabs pinning him to the earth. His eyes quiver, then freeze, going pale.

I mainly thought of the final fight of the story, tbh, before coming up with the rest, after listening to the song Archangel, by Two Steps from Hell. The fight details just came to me, vividly. The rest is concocted from various Christian myths I've heard over the years, and, I suspect, no small amount of my personal traumatic emotional issues.

I like the concepts of angels and demons generally, though I mostly want to avoid Christianity altogether. However, if I were to write this, and if, somehow, this were to become popular - unlikely, I know, but can't a man dream? - that would be incredible and hilarious to me. Especially if I write under a pen name and leave my author background vague, only mentioning I "was raised in a Christian background". It would be entertaining to me to hear pastors, bishops and the like, as well as Christian laypeople, arguing about my book, were I to even put a page to it, let alone finish, edit, and successfully publish it, calling it blasphemous and anyone who reads it a heretic vs defending enjoying it as a work of fiction and nothing more. Meanwhile, my pagan self would be laughing my ass off at the whole debacle, as it's an apostate, not a heretic, who would have written it.

8. What gives you purpose?

Oof. This one is tough, but should - in the sense of not making this post more needlessly long than it already is - hopefully be much shorter? If we're talking not just in the grand scheme of things, but what keeps me above-ground, which I'll just assume to be the case, it'll be slightly longer. Not too long, though.

I'll just make a bullet list:

I want to know true, romantic love. I've had dependency issues due to my background, which is one of the major factors in why my romantic relationships have always ended badly. I felt deeply attached to each of my partners, but in retrospect, I'm pretty sure that's dependency, not love.

I haven't... quite fucked somebody. It's rather complex. What it boils down to is 1) the actions themselves were sexual, but I don't feel they truly count as sex in my case, or else why would I still feel apprehensive and unfulfilled like a "virgin", for whatever worth that concept has? And 2), the person I was with was... in a few ways, they didn't yet know who they were, to the point that the person I was with, in a manner of speaking, didn't really exist (this person is flesh-and-blood, though). That sounds complicated and confusing af, but I won't further explain that.

My political convictions. Anybody who looks at my blog for longer than a day can tell I seriously believe fundamental changes are necessary for the just survival of all life on Earth. I feel guilty that I haven't done a thing about it yet, but if I'm no longer around, I'd never be able to do anything, would I?

"I deserve better, and others do, too." The first part is a lot harder to accept, though. The very existence of the self feels inherently selfish and bad to me, even though I don't judge others the same way. It's a struggle.

Aside from that... I don't know.

13. (tw) Do you relate to the concept of Religious Trauma Syndrome?

I thought I'd heard that spiritual abuse is a thing, but I don't think I've heard before of Religious Trauma Syndrome. Um... yeah. Yeah, I relate to it. Nearly all the symptoms are ones I still struggle with, intensely, to this day.

Anyway, that just about covers the last questions, I think.