#it's about him not being able to move on from his image of demon realm as this evil forsaken place that needs to be purged

[milfcamilanoceda]

Toh is about idealistic dreams, learning that the real thing is far from perfect, and then learning to be ok with it by either finding beauty in the imperfections or letting it go.

[interstella-eyes]

✦ Cordelia and Flynn Gryffin

You can probably tell from their proportions, but Cordelia is like a head taller than Flynn, that's why their refs next to each other look so goofy lmao

I somehow managed to do real quick references for Cordelia and Flynn before Art fight, so I’m using this as an opportunity to talk about their lore!! Long ass ramble ahead 🫡

Cordelia 🦚

Cordelia is a peafowl puenymph! Specifically a male one because they look especially beautiful and noble, which fits her heritage of “rarer“ puenymphs. When it comes to animals with sexual dimorphism, these features usually match the sex of the person, which makes Cordelia intersex because she is female! She is also unable to transform at all because she lacks the hormones needed for transformation, meaning she is “stuck“ in her hybrid form (which can get inconvenient with her long tail)

She is considered a very beautiful puenymph and gets a lot of attention for her heritage. A lot of pressure lasts on her to maintain her family’s image, meaning she got a lot of backlash from the public for having children with a “common“ puenymph which would “poison the prestigious bloodline“ (YIKES!!!). This only got worse when the public found out that Robin turned out to be a “commoner“ too.

During the time Flynn was lost at sea, she was helped with raising Samuel and Robin by her close friend Pascha, becoming very close with her and developing romantic feelings. They got together and Pascha and her daughter Noctua became part of the family. After Flynn came back home and they got to know each other and fall in love again, Cordelia, Pascha and Flynn enter a polyamorous relationship.

Flynn 🦈

Flynn is a great white shark puenymph with a passion for sailing. He likes exploring the undocumented parts of the sea in the puenymph realm, which becomes detrimental for him when his ship gets caught in a storm and is destroyed. He is the only survivor, with the rest of the crew being sent to the demon realm and unable to contact him. He was straying around in the ocean in his shark form for TWENTY YEARS until he got home (arriving around 3 years after the beginning of my actual oc story).

He had a very hard time readjusting, seeing that everyone he loved thought he was dead and moved on, and on top of that not having much human contact for two decades. Though he was able to rekindle most of his relationships after a lot of time and effort, his relationship to Robin is extremely distant and strained, as Robin has next to no memories of his father and believed he had left for so long on purpose.

And yeah that’s it!! (she says after rambling for ages)

[sashi-ya]

𝑩𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒊𝒏 𝑨𝒃𝒚𝒔𝒔, 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒆 ~ +18. Martial God! Byakuya x Great Calamity! Reader

✦ a rather dramatic smut scenario inspired in Heaven's Officer Blessing AU. In case you don't know about what it goes; it is a chinese BL novel turned to a donghwa. The novel tells the story of two lovers; a Martial God (which is essentially a prince that became a god with great skills) and a Great Calamity (a ghost/demon that holds an upper position, basically). two realms are discussed in this fic; the land of gods and ghost city. " tw: in this AU, gods and ghostshey are able to shapeshift, as well as change gender whenever they want, so, Reader will start being a woman but end up having his real form at the end: a man. Gender swapping for reader, if you aren't ok with your gender changing please proceed with caution. oral sex. bondage. a lot of angst. anal sex. "𝑩𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒊𝒏 𝑨𝒃𝒚𝒔𝒔, 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒆" is one of Xie Lian's (the mc) most famous phrase. if you wish to read more about the spiritual meaning of such word, I found this awesome post that explains it perfectly. I'm not sure why I cried so much writing this, but yeah, enjoy :P ✦ wc: 2k

Across the lands, his temples showed proudly the image of his holly form. The dry branch on his left hand, and the one with sakura buds in his right hand, meant to the worshippers the transformation of the death to a higher self. It also meant how fast life could go from blooming to drying. Byakuya wasn’t a God of water, nor wind or earth… he was, the god of ephemeral life.

He was strong, and he was venerated. His long black hair, fell like a rain on his shoulders and back.

He walked the path of greatness, and never once he had been found guilty of impurity. There was one night, however… that the God’s body went to Abbys. And even if he went back to the skies, his heart rested lingering in paradise for eternity…

Walking through the lands of the living world, he crossed many bridges. One of them in which a soft caress encounters his face. The delicate touch of a passing woman, her eyes of different colours. She is beautiful. More than that; she looks like the embodiment of sin and lust.

He immediately grab his sword, the motion that looked like slowed time took the blade to her neck. “Who are you and how dare you touch me?” he asks, as always so irreverently and uprightly…

“Ah… sometimes even I forget that you are a Martial God” you whisper, moving so fast away from the edge of his relentless sword. Your hands play with his hair and his body exudes high spiritual power.

He takes distance from you. “I’m not gonna ask you again, who are you?” he demands to know. You shouldn’t mess with such a powerful God.

You smile, sadistically. You make him gasp; maybe because of amusement, maybe because he finds you incredibly beautiful. Something about your appearance turns his inside world upside down, and, the urge to break the path of cultivation to be finally dragged to hells.

“I’m someone you surely know too well from past lives, Byakuya~” you purr, acknowledging yours and his non-human nature. “You have become a wonderful God after your ascension… I must ask you, though… why have you been repressing your desires?”

He frowns -a lot more than usual-. Byakuya is confused, with himself mostly. He feels like you are being sincere, but, at the same time, he fears you are indeed way more stronger than you appear. And, in fact, that’s exactly what he learns by suddenly attacking you again.

Your swords cross in a strength and power competition. It doesn’t take you too much effort to make him back up almost instantly, and soon he is left panting, pinned against the floor with your serrated edge lingering over his neck.

“You are… a ghost. Aren’t you?” he huffs, looking at you with those piercing severe eyes he’s always had, even when lying in the floor a few seconds away to be defeated.

You smirk, carving the ground next to him with the tip of your sword. “A ghost?... Not just A ghost… I’m sure you know by now who I am, exactly” you giggle. How comes he isn’t able to remember who you are? Or even worse, recognize you are no other than one of the Great Calamities.

Byakuya’s lips separate, he finally understands. And with the snap of your fingers, he finally passes out because of your strong power. Byakuya is a Martial God, but not a creature as strong as you.

When his dark blue eyes finally open, he is lying on a big bed. The sheets are satin, and they are as pink as the buds of sakura flowers he holds in his hand.

“Wh- where am I?” he asks, shaking. Byakuya feels cold, as if has been dragged to hell.

“Where do you think you are, Byakun?” you ask, sitting in your big chair right in front of the bed. You are eating fruits, right from the hands of beautiful ghosts. Men, women, all of them wearing revealing clothes and their bodies garnished by golden beads.

He suddenly gains strength to stand up from bed, but even if he tries, ties of dark force restrain him to lay with arms and legs spread on the mattress. He widens his orbs. Never has he ever been in no control… or maybe he was, but- not during this life.

You stand up from your seat, waving your hand so that the servants leave you two alone. Walking like a snake towards him, you yet got to decide which body you wish to use this time.

Byakuya begins to struggle to be freed, with of course no luck.

“Stop fighting, you are gonna leave marks on those beautiful pale wrists if you keep pulling. You used to be so docile to me, Byakun… What happened to you? Has heaven changed you? You were always a dark prince to me”

A sudden click comes to him. The term you used to describe his older past has finally made him understand who you are. And why, you, openly admit knowing him. Before he ascended, you or your soul had inhabited a man he knew too well.

“(Name)?” he asks, swallowing. His eyes glimmer for a brief second; maybe he wanted to meet you so badly as you during this eternity.

“Good boy. You recognized me, and you didn’t even need to see me in my real form. Do I look good as a woman, Byakun? Do I look appealing to you? What happened to that woman who married the God? Did she die?” you inquire, with a tint of darkness in your tone. Almost as if you wished to hurt him.

He looks to the side, taking his eyes from you in great shame. A heavy burden stands on top of his shoulders. Byakuya left your world, he joined another. A rather more holly one. And not only he did that but also he married a woman. A pure, innocent woman.

Not a ghost.

Not a calamity.

Not an evil energy, like you.

“Are you ashamed, Byakuya? Do you feel guilty? Is that what taking your eyes from me means?” you ask, crawling in bed next to him. Your fingernails, long and sharp, and black and dangerously, graze his chin to make him look at you again.

But his eyes are teary. And yet, not a single drop of pity hits you. You were the one who had been abandoned, why is he then the one crying?

“Are you ashamed?!” you ask again, with a louder voice and clear pain in your words. “Tell me you are ashamed! You left me here, you left me alone in here” you protest, and carve your nails in his warm cheeks as you crawl on top of him.

You slap his face with no remorse. You simply needed it. Why isn’t he saying something?

Releasing one of his hands from the spiritual handcuffs you take his hand to your breast. “Feel me. See? You like this? you like women more than men?” you ask, on the verge of tears. You force his hand to squeeze your chest, seeing his cheeks grow blush and his breathing haste.

In between hate and desire, you bend over. Your long hair tickles his temples, like the violent caress of a thousand ivy. Your lips, who linger so dangerously near his, are blessed by his warm breathe and the accelerated air scaping his lungs.

You look at him with your head tilted. Memories and hatred uniting in one, the urge and revenge playing thug of war inside you until both combine as if they wanted to use the rope around his neck.

Your lips crash against his. Your teeth bite and pull from them, extracting even some drops of sweet God’s blood that burn your tongue. But you don’t care and keep going, and as you, he does too.

Passionate, out of breath kisses make him hard. And that makes you mad. So mad.

“Your hardness is only an insult to me. You really prefer women over men, don’t you?” you cry out, once again grabbing his face from his cheeks. Byakuya’s eyes are blurry, he is scared. So scared, but still pleads for your mouth to go back to his.

But you won’t give him that, instead, you will make him pay for the disrespect. Crawling off his lap, you snap your fingers and in a blink of an eye mirrors suddenly surround that bed.

From every corner he can see you. He can see himself so pathetically tied to a bed of a Calamity, while being the great noble Martial God he is. A prince so impure like Naraka itself.

“Look at yourself, look at me from every corner” you order, ripping his clothes off. The pure white coverings, the pink details and golden, and everything so extravagant falls like crumbles of dignity on the floor.

Just as you remember… Pale body, the indentations, and accidents of such perfect anatomy. The marks that once you left there, had been erased with the time. Even the kisses you thought were to remain eternally planted in his skin. There is nothing but dried branches of those now. His spiritual pressure lowers, or maybe yours grows bigger and bigger. It’s asphyxiating to him, is heavy on his chest.

“There is nothing left of me on this flesh” you mourn, looking at him with eyes injected in blood and tears that fall down your corners. “But you were mine, you were only mine”

Byakuya’s lips tremble, his long lashes show wetness from his crying. He only wants you, no matter the form you hold now. A woman, a man, a beast. Come back, kiss his skin, feed off his taste and feed him with yours. Get drunk on his scent, let him ascend with yours.

“I’m still yours…” he dares to murmur in between sobs.

You, who have turned your back to him, take a look from the side. You don’t want to fall back into those lies. Because he told them once, and now he told them twice. But even ghosts, with hearts that don’t beat, also feel the pain of missing a love.

“I’m still yours… I haven’t touched anyone, never again since I left. I didn’t touch her, either” he dares to spit, making your limbs go almost limp. And you know it’s not true. Or is it?

You turn around, walking back in between his legs. Like a crawling creature you go up, kissing from the bridge of his foot up his limbs. The inside of his thighs, that are so tender, invite you to bite. And you do, making him moan in pain and in pleasure as well.

His hardness growing more and more, dripping, throbbing. Your tongue going up from his perineum to his gland. It tastes as delicious as before, and perhaps even more. Now that he is sacred, now that he is holly.

He squirms to your oral torture, his eyes go white, his head back. It’s like a work of art, to see the muscles of his back tensing in the mirrors around. His chest going up and down, rapidly, trying to make some oxygen go inside his lungs but never once reaching enough.

You search for his look, but he can’t even see. Byakuya’s open lips, pouting. His moans show, how much, how many years, he has restrained himself from sin.

But it’s definitely the words that come as the first flowers of spring what break you in half, in thirds and in million pieces…“I love you so much. I have waited for you every day and every night. I missed you so much, I missed… I missed you so much, (Name). A life of eternity in hell wouldn’t have been enough to pay for leaving you behind…”

You snap your fingers again. His hands are freed and reach for yours with delicate intertwined fingers that grip tightly. He invites you to go on top of you. Your body takes the real form, his does too.

White aura surrounding him. Red surrounding yours. His legs on each side of your body, you burying on him, deep, deep inside. Your mouths interlocked, your tongues dancing with each other. Chests one against the other, sweating bodies sharing the intimacy connection of love and lust.

“Come back, come back as many times as you want…”

[thegreenleavesofspring]

d'you mind elaborating on your ghost-beliefs? I'm curious (no pressure if you don't want to, or feel free to dm me if you'd prefer)

I would be THRILLED.

I am going to preface this with a criticism of Protestant leaders at large, specifically in the Western cultures: they have, by and large, entirely ceded the spiritual battleground to Satan in order to concentrate on capitulating more completely in the physical realm.

Further disclaimer: I was raised in the school of thought of "Ghosts are not real, you are delusional or seeing demons". I believed this wholeheartedly until I was in my twenties and started seeing them. This confounded me badly; I tried denial for a bit but once spirits figure out you can see them they don't really... leave you alone. I was then terrified I was losing either my mind or, worse, my faith, so I went a-hunting through the Bible, trying to reconcile what I'd been taught with the reality I could no longer deny.

Nowhere does the Bible say ghosts don't exist. In fact it comes right out and says that they do, once, and assumes their reality in other places.

The Witch of Endor summoned Samuel's ghost. (It should be noted that he was resting and at peace and was summoned, which makes him... not precisely a ghost as I see them but also, yes. A spirit of the dead.)

The disciples believed the risen Jesus was a ghost. They were reproved for their lack of faith in His words, but never were they reproved for believing in ghosts. In fact Jesus encouraged Thomas' belief by telling Thomas to touch him to prove His physical presence.

The dead got up and walked around during the Crucifixion (and I'd really like more details about that but alas.)

When Peter was released from prison, the disciples believed it was his 'angel' (or ghost?)

1 Corinthians 12:10 (that whole chapter is fantastic and also not widely taught)

So that's that. Biblical support.

Now how in blazes are ghosts possible when it says once for man to die and then the judgment?

This one I had to tumble around in my mind for a bit and I finally came to the conclusion that the answer lies in: Man is made in God's image. I've always heard this taught as body shape when it's taught at all, but I think that's not the whole picture.

I think human beings are triune the same way God is triune. In our case, here on earth, that takes the form of physical body/flesh - soul (which goes on to the eternal reward after the death of the body - and what I call the spirit, for lack of a better word - the mind, personality, and memories of the person; what makes us, us. This is what - as far as I can tell; mind you, I can see them, I don't ask a lot of questions - this is what lingers when the body dies and the soul moves on to be with God, or not.

I will add that the dead are meant to rest (sleep, as the Bible calls it). They want to. They're meant to. There's not really any such thing as a 'vengeful ghost' - those are demons masquerading. Ghosts look terrifying and feel terrifying and most the ones I've met have been shatteringly polite and apologetic and just want to rest, please.

Anyway yeah. Ghosts are real and angels are real and demons are real and I've met very, very few people who aren't a mass of confusion if not outright denial. And I wouldn't be surprised if I just lost half my followers with this but I'll admit it's good to be able to break silence at last.

PS: I'm not a witch or possessed. I have been Exorcised and everything. 🙄 I'm just using the gift God gave me.

[wilsons-journey]

I'm curious about Valefor and Neeve! You mention that they are part demon and have a natural instinct/need to fight because of this. Could you tell me more about that? How were they created? Were they brought up in any sort of traditional fahrar, or were they raised separate from charr culture as private assassins? Thanks!

Sure! I'm happy to talk about them ;V;

The whole "They part Demon"-Thing came with SoTo, even with them being Demons in their Original AU.

They were "created" by Israfil (More about him here || Or #Israfil), who infused them with his own demon essence. Isarfil himself stems from a different Realm (not the one from SoTO, probably some "Only the fittest will survive" / Ice-Themed Realm.)

Let me get a snippet from the linked post above:

Before the release of SotO he was planned as a lesser Dragon Servant. Nothing special. Now I’m thinking about him being a lesser Demon. It would fit even more. He got in touch with a lot of magic. That changed him. Even more, when he crashed into a Charr by accident. He devoured him and took on his appearance - allowing him to walk among the mortals. But he yearns for more and more magic. He feast on it, like a parasite. He lives to survive and to expand. In the beginning it was just that - feasting on magic. But with the time he grew more and more hungry. And the more Magic he devoured,… the more he evolved from a mindless creature into a thinking being. At the same time his taste changed. Magic alone was not enough anymore. He started devouring other creatures, too. With the newly acquired foresight, he started to planing out his moves, how he get more of the things he needs. With that he created the training ground, to train his very own Pawns. First only to feast on them - later to train them to fetch him magic. Be it raw, in artifacts or… people.

So yeah, they were raised far away from their people, in a kind training camp. Israfil raised his own pawns there. At first to feast on them - later to let these pawns work for him. With that era, he started to infuse his pawns with his essence - in part to make them stronger, so they can serve him better. But also to have better control over them.

But this essence has effects on these infused Charr like Valefor or Neeve.

For Valefor he is able to summon his "mask" at will. In reality this Mask is not just a Mask - he unknowingly transformed part of himself into this demon form. It's later during the Events of SoTo, that he learns he is part Demon. Its when he enter Nayos the first time and his whole body changes to this demon appearance.

I made a concept of this here (Beware of possible SoTo Spoilers):

The Design is not final - but the basic concept will probably stay like it is. Demon with red and hard skin and some fancy blue glow when he charges up for an attack. Or the Emotions start to boil up.

For Neeve it's different. She is not able to control her demon appearance. She partly transform into this when she gets enraged. I wanted to make an image for that, but wasn't happy with the sketches so far. But I will give it another try in the future and upload it here on tumblr!

The only thing Valefor and Neeve have in common is ther Guardian Magic. Their flames are not burning like normal fire. They more like very special ice magic - like ice flames.

That's so far the idea / background of the "part Demon" Stuff with Valefor and Neeve ;v;

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

Posting the Together Forever AU writing before bed.

TW: Literal possession, possessive behaviour, obsession, gaslighting, manipulation, abuse, murder, death of children, religious themes, bigotry towards witches, victim blaming, self hate, disassociation, chronic pain, body horror

The sky is alight in the Demon Realm.

That’s the first thing Hunter notices, trying desperately to avoid the reality of blood and bone and screaming and pain. The sky is a kaleidoscope, a stunning display of pinks and reds and oranges and purples. A galaxy of constellations, like the ones he read about in Cosmic Frontier, dot the skies. It’s strange and stunning enough he can almost lose himself in it.

“Disgusting, isn’t it, Caleb?” Belos sneers, and forcibly, Hunter is forced back into terrible reality.

It hits all at once, the events of the past few hours. Voices and images in his head, a phantom scratching like ants under his skin he tried to ignore. Spiralling thoughts. An anger, a possessiveness he didn’t recognise bubbling in him, like he wasn’t in control of himself. The agony of being a puppet on a string, a marionette, his bones turning in ways they shouldn’t and the touch of rot and goop like burning.

The broken bodies of his friends. His family. Still breathing, but barely, and Titan, could humans survive those injuries? They didn’t have healing magic, so how would they be able to? The metallic smell of blood. The sheer exhaustion, being unable to fight back against his body being under another’s control. Dizzying vertigo and swirling colours.

If he was able to, Hunter would be sick.

“Caleb!” Hunter automatically jumps to attention at the sharp sound of his uncles voice, not sure if it’s coming from him or inside his head.

“My name is Hunter, uncle,” he half-thinks, half-says, his voice quiet and soft. “I'm not- I'm not-“

Belos drives the sharp edge of his nails into his-their body, and Hunter can’t flinch from the pain, take a deep breath, only feel the stabbing and the green burning sludge spreading into more of his flesh. “Caleb, do you really think you can play the fool with me? I have known you since the day I was born; I can recognise you from any of those pale imitations. Seeing through your eyes, hearing your every thought… you couldn’t have fooled me if you tried, brother.”

There was a pause, and the stabbing pain subsided, Hunter barely recognising his own arm was moving. “Unless, you have truly forgotten?” His voice was soft like the fabric in the Human Realm, a warmth that made Hunter unwillingly feel proud, satisfied. “Do you remember how you protected me, all those years ago? Do you remember the games we'd play in the woods?”

If there was one thing Hunter knew by heart, it was this- if you wanted to avoid getting hurt, always do exactly what Belos wanted. If you didn’t know, predict it. Always stay one step ahead of any potential wrath. And… he’d lost everything anyways. All he had left was himself, and even if he deserved all the pain in the world, some selfish part of him tried to avoid that still.

“I'm sorry, I really don’t remember. I'm trying to, but I can’t.” His voice breaks, and for some reason a small part of him thinks it’s guilt over being a bad brother, even though that makes no sense. “Emperor Belos, I-“

“Philip.” There’s an annoyed tone, and it makes Hunter expect… something, even though he doesn’t know what. “Please, use my real name.”

“… Yes, Philip. My… my brother.”

“See, look, you’re remembering already!” The horrible bolt of pride hits Hunters stomach again, along with something he can’t quite name mixed in, and he hates it. He hates it he hates it he hates it so much he wants to pull at his hair and scratch at his skin but he can’t move a muscle, even as his skin crawls like a million tiny bugs are underneath it.

He's frozen, as Bel- as Philip effortlessly, smoothly walks them along to do Titans knows what, and the fear of anticipation makes him feel sicker than ever.

——

Over the next few months, Hunter grows numb to the taste of Palismen.

Their form still withers without it, and there’s nothing left of Hunter's old body anymore, everything being held together solely by the slick oily goop of Philip's monstrous form. He looks much the same as he always did, but on touch things sink into his skin, and his whole body is enveloped in a permanent burning pain that makes thinking hard, and listening to Philip seem so easy.

As it turns out, there’s a lot of witchless Palismen in this horrific, warped version of the Demon Realm. Catching them was easy when he didn’t hold the reins of their shared body, but he could still feel them trembling in fear under his grasp, the desperation in their eyes. It felt like murder, every time.

Palisman souls, he finds, taste like screaming.

——

“Can you remember what happened on the day you carved my mask?”

No would be the correct answer, but more important than answering correctly is answering in a way that pleases Philip, Hunter has learned.

“A little,” he lies, desperately recalling the mess of information about the man he was meant to be he'd learnt. “I- it was your birthday, right? Your… eighth?”

“Ninth.” Philip doesn’t sound too angry at that, but Hunter still flinches in anticipation. He’s regained a little control over his own body, he’s found, but only in situations like this, where he can’t even really do anything with it.

The two of them were taking shelter from the boiling rain, which tended to progress to a boiling flood whenever it was the least convenient. Thankfully, the goop that made up their body didn’t burn much under it, but it lost its cohesion painfully, and if it got damaged too much it'd reveal their galderstone heart, the one part of Hunter that remained, and that didn’t handle the rains as well.

Every single scratch to it made Hunter's head feel more and more fuzzy, made his real memories more and more like static. He hates how it makes things easier like that.

“Of course, your ninth birthday. You were crying because you thought you were a sinner, but when I gave you that gift, you'd grinned ear to ear.”

“Very good. I'm so proud of your progress, Caleb.” The relief in Philip’s voice was palpable, and it felt foreign, that vulnerability. It was a side of himself that Hunter had once thought he'd shown him, with his transformations and his anger, but being “Caleb” felt like seeing a whole new side of his “brother”, and it felt like some weird fever dream. “Do you remember what you promised me, on that day?”

Hunter lowers his head. “I can’t recall. I'm sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise for something that isn’t your fault,” Philip says, and Hunter knows it’s a lie, but it’s a comforting one. He pretends to ignore the amused tone to it. “You put a hand on my shoulder and smiled, and said no matter what, we'd be together forever.”

“I guess I wasn’t wrong there.” It comes out bitter, even though Hunter doesn’t mean it to.

“Don't use that tone.” It’s lighter than Hunter ever remembers Philip reprimanding him before all this, but it still invokes the same feeling of dread. “You were right there, though, yes. You always were too clever for your own good, without anyone to rein you in like you did me. It’s only fair to do the same in return, don’t you agree?”

Hunter doesn’t, of course, but he knows the answer Philip wants. “Of course, brother.”

He feels himself smile. “I always knew this would work, Caleb. I knew God would return you to me, one way or another. I should have recognised the gift I had been given earlier, but perhaps that was God's plan too. After all, we really are together forever, like you promised.”

Hunter pauses at that. If… if Caleb had said that, if he'd said that, wouldn’t it make sense for him to have come back like this? It’s not like he'd be able to know, but Philip would. Maybe he was just in denial. After all, Philip always had something to say, always had something that was proof, and it had to mean something, right? It had to. He was just being stupid and selfless for pretending he was anything but a vessel fulfilling his purpose.

“I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way,” Caleb says, and he’s not sure himself about whether it’s a truth or a lie. Maybe it’s both.

——

The first time they meet another witch, they are younger than Caleb's new body.

He is sick after they are disposed of. Of course, he knows witches are evil, he remembers now. Philip had helped him, reminded him of their demonic ways. But he's still weak. Stupid. Has the same tendencies that drove him to sin and abandon his little brother.

Philip hugs him tight with their arms and tells him that he shouldn’t feel guilty, he did the right thing, the Godly one. It doesn’t make him feel any better.

He isn’t sick the next witch he hunts.

——

His hair grows out quickly, but he doesn’t age. The patterns of rot on him seem to be different every time he looks, ever so slightly. His clothes are a part of him, and if he focuses very hard, he can change them too. He dresses like he used to, at Philips insistence.

Philip keeps note of those things in a journal, trying to figure out their limits. Caleb can’t say he understands his enthusiasm. He remembers his brothers curiosity, at least he thinks he does, but he's not sure how they’re any different to the monsters they hunt. Maybe it takes one to kill one.

Caleb used to be curious once, he thinks. He’s grown out of it now, that childish fantasy he allowed himself to experience pretending to be someone he wasn’t. Now, he just feels numb.

Not entirely of course. There are three things he feels. First, and most importantly, is love for his little brother. It still felt strange to imagine Philip as that, and he supposed it technically wasn’t true anymore, since Philip had been alive for many more years than he had, but it was his duty. His responsibility.

He takes like it to a duck to water, as a shoulder to cry on, a rock, a source of advice. He always knows what to say to make his brother smile, and it fills him with pride whenever he feels his body do it involuntarily. On the rare occasions he messes up, the stupid remains of an idiot child still inside him, he more than welcomes the punishment. He knows he deserves it.

Second is a hatred of witches. He’s not sure if it classifies as hatred exactly, to be honest, though. He pities them more than anything- those with the misfortune to be born demons, be born sinful tempters without a choice in the matter. He tells himself it is a kindness to free their souls from that fate, allow them to be reborn as something better. Like he himself was.

Finally, least of all, was this odd sense of homesickness. He didn’t know where to, exactly. He remembered scattered faces, but everything else was a blur. He'd been stuck in this hell for so long he saw them with pointed ears, weaving demonic magic with their hands, which couldn’t be the case. He must be remembering home, back when he was with Philip. He could recall the dry facts as easily as breathing, of course, but the feeling of rain on his skin, of holding baby Philip in his arms, the face of those he'd loved, those were beyond his grasp.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been here. Long enough to notice he's stopped growing, but whether that’s months or years or eons upon eons is something he can’t answer. He spends much of his time in a state in between existence, dimly aware of what’s happening but not feeling it. The worsening pain made that all the more tempting. Even detached from everything, it still threatened to overload him at any moment.

Philip praises him for being so obedient, so it must be fine.

Caleb lives his life as scattered scenes now, like a dream he can’t wake up from. But it’s a good dream, so he doesn’t mind. Most of the time, he is talking with Philip. Some of the time, he is under the water and holding his heart in his hands and on the verge of breaking it. He doesn’t know why. Somehow, it feels tempting.

But, no. He has a purpose he was built for, and he'll do it. A good big brother never does anything to upset their little brother. Never leaves them. Never hurts them. Caleb is a good brother, and that makes it worthwhile.

——

When he sees another human for the first time in who knows how long, she is vaguely familiar.

It’s something about the shape of her nose, the roundness of her cheeks. Maybe her lips, or the warm brown of her skin. Caleb cannot name it.

Her hair is long and curly, one of her eyes is bandaged. Several of her limbs appear to be clunky metal. There is a dullness to her brown eyes that Caleb recognises from himself. Still, for some reason, she smiles at him.

“Hunter?” Her voice is frustratingly familiar too.

He shakes his head. “I'm sorry. My name is Caleb.”

[4e7her]

oc introduction - obey me:

(there's images of him at the bottom - one from this picrew, the other from me)

-

kousei - entity of fear - he / him

at least a few centuries old, kousei generally thought that he had seen everything. apparently, though, there was an entire devildom and no one told him - you would have thought that at least one of his followers would've known about it, but he supposes that's what he gets for relying on humans.

kousei is 6'3" (191cm) with a muscular build. he has medium grey hair with black tips, and incredibly light golden eyes. his left eye is half a dark amber that seems to move everytime you look away. he has pointed ears and many piercings - a staple that you'll never see him without is a upside down cross hanging from his left ear.

his style is best described as angelic. he prefers to wear all-white whenever he can, and being draped in jewelry is just the cherry on top. koushi is usually the picture of luxury, with cropped or sheer tops and expensive fabrics. when you see him, it's very easy to understand why he has such a cult following.

he has tattoos on his torso and back, both intricate and well-designed. in the middle of his chest is a spider surrounded by eyes, just above a spine-like design that does well to frame his v-line. on his back is a huge piece reminiscent of wings and bones, taking up the entirety of his mid to low back, with flares on his shoulder blades for the wings.

kousei's abilities are all based around fear and the mind, though he's proud to say that his talent for manipulation was learned. he has no need for actual food as he feeds on fear, meaning that he skipped over tastebuds a bit when studying how to create his human form - solomon's food is a delicacy to him, for some idea of how they turned out. he's able to manipulate both the void known as his body and the minds of others, meaning that he can take any shape he'd like, though he finds it rather disconcerting and hates changing forms.

he makes it look like he vaporizes others when he draws them into his own mindscape to be torn apart, though he could tear them apart on the mortal realm if he so wished. he does this whenever he uses his abilities - making them and himself look angelic to disguise his rather demonic nature. this also goes for how kousei acts.

he finds out about the devildom via the signup that rad puts out in the human world, just like anyone else would, and takes it as a sign that he's allowed despite the distinction that they were looking for humans. unfortunately for him, they are able to tell he's inhuman, but they allow him in anyways as he explains his human upbringing and his lack of knowledge of the devildom.

kousei's love interests are: the brothers, diavolo, solomon, and simeon.

-

[astaroth1357]

How the Obey Me Cast Would Protect MC

Lucifer

With all his (considerable) might.

Keeping his human safe in such a dangerous place is a point of pride to him. To attack them, then, is to besmirch that pride… and you can imagine the consequences of that.

Cold and brutal, but also swift and effective. Lucifer will have any attacker who comes at them cooked to a crisp then served to Cerberus by lunchtime.

If someone were to actually hurt MC, he'd take it as a failure on his part and seek to "fix" it by any means necessary. An eye for an eye is not nearly strict enough, even a light bruise will make him go for the heart.

Mammon

To his dying breath.

They are one of the best things to happen to him in centuries so do you think that he's going to let them go easily? Of course not!

Mammon is no slouch. He's second oldest and second strongest, so any intruder better take him seriously. His speed is his greatest weapon and he'll end a fight before it gets to start.

Mammon would 100% lay down his life if it meant keeping MC safe. He wouldn't think about it nor hesitate and his attacks are pretty reckless in kind. Anyone who hurts MC won't be able to hide behind his self-preservation, they're always going down even if he's going with them.

Leviathan 

With the force of a Grand Admiral.

Usually, Levi prefers to stay out of confrontation. Not because he's too weak to fight but because he's often too much to handle.

This man's opening move is to summon a seven-headed sea monster that floods the local area and chews his opponents to pieces... How much worse do you think he can do when he's serious?

Levi isn't put into the spotlight very often and he'll rarely enter a fight head-on, but for MC he'll win any battle, any time. He's bringing a tank to a water balloon fight and he doesn't care who screams, "HAX!!!"

Satan

Like a beast without a cage.

Don't be fooled by his brains and good manners, under all of that lies a bona fide demon.

"Savage" doesn't even begin to describe Satan when he's pissed and being a threat to MC will get him there in a millisecond. He's every bit as remorseless as Lucifer, but without the careful efficiency. Breaking every bone takes time.

And again, that's only if he considers someone a threat. To anyone who actually hurts MC, there'll be so little left Simeon will have nothing to pray over... Promise.

Asmodeus 

As if they were a part of himself.

Asmo has gone on record many times saying how much he loves himself - he could kiss a mirror, he loves himself that much. But when MC stepped into his life, they became a part of him too.

So all that anger he gets when he sees a chipped nail? The fury he feels when someone ruins his hair? He feels the same when someone hurts MC, but tenfold. 

The people who hurt them aren't just attacking his image, they're attacking his soul - and he responds in kind. No punishment is too steep at that point. Even if it was his charm, he'd say they did it to themselves.

Beelzebub 

Like he's sworn an oath.

In the Celestial Realm, Beel was ready to lay down his life for Lucifer. He doesn't see much of a difference here, really.

Defending his loved ones is in his DNA - it's how he thinks and operates. The moment the MC befriended Beel, whether they knew it or not, they had a bodyguard for life.

He's already lost one family member but he'll never lose another. He'll be the first to leap to their defense and the last to ever call it quits. Satan may leave a little, but Beel will make sure there's nothing left when he's done.

Belphegor 

Like there's finally something worth fighting for.

Being as lazy and lethargic as he is, most people wouldn't pick Belphegor as their protector, but for MC? He'll wake right up.

Belphie had been running on autopilot for a long time after losing Lilith... If he had any reason to fight anymore, it'd be for Beel but it's not like his twin needs the help.

The MC is different… so human and as fragile as ever. Though it feels like they could disappear at any moment, he'd never let it happen. He'd burn everything to the ground first.

Diavolo

With the power of a King.

Just take a moment to actually appreciate how insane someone must be to want to hurt MC with the Demon Lord at their back...

Does this even need elaboration? He would maim them, eviscerate them, send an army to trample their bones, then resurrect the pieces to do it all over again!

For the good that the MC has done him, his realm, and the world at large - he wouldn't settle for anything less. But of course, no one would be that stupid anyway… Right...?

Barbatos

Quietly, from the shadows.

Barbatos knows where he fits in the world. He doesn't need any fame or glory, nor to be looked at as some kind of hero (because he most certainly is not).

Barbs will take every measure possible to be sure that threats are dealt with, but always behind the scenes. He's a man of many talents, thus it never takes him very long.

The MC is his Lord's guest and very important to everyone there… Their stay shouldn't be marred by something as trivial as fear. They can just keep going about their day as usual and he'll keep the threats buried out of sight... literally.

Simeon

Without mercy.

All the kindness in the world can't hide one thing, Simeon is a living weapon - plain and simple - as an Archangel it's in his job description.

Loyal but pragmatic, Simeon will do or say what he needs to in order to get the best outcome he can. He's an angel, but he'll bend or even break the rules when MC is involved...

If they're in danger, he will defend them however he can and with all his might. There's no room for forgiveness or talking things out. He's risked everything for them before and he'll do it again and again…

Solomon

Even if the world burns...

To say that Solomon has a "different" way of looking at things would be charitable. Either from prolonged corruption or centuries of a lonely life: his methods, priorities, and even logic can be a bit iffy to others…

Likewise, for reasons only he knows (perhaps the emotion called "Love"), he's decided that the MC is worth protecting above all else. He will hold true to this.

The stars could be falling and the planet cracking to pieces sending mayhem running through the streets as the Three Realms collapse around them - but he will do everything in his immense power to safeguard the only thing that matters - his MC.

[luminari-mc]

(Mammon x MC/Reader)

Prompt: "She doesn't compare to you. No one does.”

Genre: Angst, hurt(emotional)/comfort.

Pairing: GN!MC/Reader x Mammon

Summary: You and Mammon finally get to enjoy a well-deserving shopping trip just between the two of you. Just as you are about to hit the next shop, your attention is caught by an image advertised in the street.

Warnings: N/A

A/N: I wanted to try my hands at a prompt that is tagged as "fluff", but of course I ended up turning it into something angsty instead. But I like sad stuff, so that still works for me.

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

It wasn't often that you got to spend time with Mammon without having any of his brothers around to bother you. But you had made it very clear to them that these few hours after school would be spent with Mammon, and only him. And for today's trip, you two had decided to go shopping in one of the busiest streets in the Devildom.

Clothes and jewelry stores, malls- you had done them all. When most of this time had been spent doing window shopping, Mammon had still insisted on getting at least a few bags of purchased goods for each of you by the end of the day. After all, what was the point of going on a shopping trip, if you didn't end up emptying your bank account only to regret it later?

And so, thanks to the demon's wonderful influence, your arms had now several bags hanging off of them. There was a certain guilt still looming over your head as you realized way overboard you might have gotten with your purchases, but Mammon promised he would take care of any financial problems you could encounter in the near future because of that. You still wondered how he was going to manage it, him being Mammon and all...

"Damn, now THAT'S what I call a good haul! Look at ya!" The white-haired demon grinned as he watch you hop out of the store, the glass doors opening automatically at your presence to let you out. He placed his wrists on his hips as his own bags dangled in his hands. "What'cha got for yourself this time?"

"They actually had that jacket I saw in a magazine the other day!" The doors closed behind you as you showed the white bag which contained the jacket. "You were right, that store was amazing. I can't believe you never showed it to me before."

"Ha! Told ya the Great Mammon knew where the best treasures were! Consider it an exclusive info, because I ain't gonna share more if any of my brothers are around next time." Mammon turned around before flipping a few of his bags over his shoulder, as you instantly began to trot to get to his level.

"What? So all this time you knew about it and you didn't tell me? Just because Asmo comes with us sometimes?" You expressed shock, right before your eyebrows joined together. "Really, as if you couldn't have told me over text or something."

"And have you go without me?! Nah, ain't gonna happen- you'd just get lost and end up in the worst store possible." Mammon glanced your way, and you could only smirk at his poor excuse.

"Sure, you're right. I forgot that humans don't have the same flawless sense of orientation as demons do." Despite your obviously sarcastic tone, Mammon didn't seem to register it as he nodded at your words.

"Exactly! Even if I gave you the full address, who knows where you'd end up? I don't want ya to come and complain to me afterwards, so it's gotta be with me or nothin'."

Even as you rolled your eyes, you noticed Mammon's face slightly turning away from yours, probably to hide the extra shade of color that had appeared on his cheeks ever so discreetly. Even when he was in his usual tsundere mood, it was endearing to see how concerned he was for your safety. And just how badly he wanted to be alone with you.

"So, where to next?" You asked without really thinking, surprising yourself that even after your extensive purchasing, you still wanted to do more. Or maybe it was that you didn't want this date to end right away. The past few weeks had been nothing but the brothers interrupting each other when any of them found themselves alone with you, so getting to spend some alone time with one of them, especially with Mammon, deserved to be extended a bit more.

"Glad ya asked!" As if a battery had been plugged into him, the demon brandished his arm into the air, the bags swinging by his face and missing him by a few inches. "I got this whole place where they're sellin' tons of stuff for pretty cheap, but it's actually authentic branded things. See, they're actually sold to that one guy who then has to sell them to another guy, and..."

As you listened to Mammon explain how he was able to find "authentic stuff" (probably not that authentic, you were pretty sure about that) for less than a quarter of its original price, your eyes found themselves drifting to an impressive ad plastered on a building the two of you were walking by. Recognizing the habit of Majolish to put their models on display for everyone to see was pretty easy, but that wasn't what caught your eye in the moment.

What tuned Mammon down completely in your ears, were the models themselves. The second born, sitting on a stool with a ripped shirt and pants, a few accessories hanging off his neck and barely covering anything of his exposed chest. He looked serious, staring straight at the objective- and at you, while the light shined on him to completely capture his frame for the picture.

And sitting down in the middle of the shot, between his legs, was a female demon wearing a red leather dress, her head resting on top of Mammon's leg. The clawed hand dangling off his knee- covered in golden rings, seemed to taunt you, as well as the piercing yellow eyes she had. Saying she wasn't beautiful would be lying. In fact, she was absolutely stunning. A perfect model for a perfect shot. Just looking at her made you feel small, like a prey that was about to be devoured by a hungry beast, the longer you were looking at her.

But that's what demons were supposed to make you feel like, right?

"Hey!" Mammon called out from the distance he had put between the two of you since you had stopped walking beside him. "Yo, MC!"

Watching as you kept staring into nothing, Mammon rolled his shoulders with a furrowed brow before walking back toward you, his head tilting to the side as he noticed your dead expression.

"Huuh hello, Devildom to MC? In which realm did ya get lost this time?"

"They replaced it." The words that left your mouth were weak, almost too silent for him to hear. It's as if all of the energy you had had evaporated from your body in an instant.

"Huh?" Mammon grew a bit concerned at this sudden change. His eyes perked up at the ad you were looking at, as you continued.

"The shoot we did together." Finally, you spared yourself from the sight, your gaze dropping to the ground. "They already replaced it with another one."

As soon as Mammon understood why *this* ad in particular seemed to be upsetting you so much, his jaw was already clenching. He remembered the stars he had seen in your eyes the previous week when you saw yourself on the Majolish ad, posing beside him- a shoot opportunity you had gotten while accompanying him after RAD a few days prior. In the middle of his shoot, he practically didn't leave any choice to his agent and had insisted that you be included in the shots to promote one of the new pieces of jewelry the brand was planning to release in the upcoming months. Asmo, who was there to witness your reaction on that day the three of you went out, had even taken a hundred pictures or so of you posing in front of the ad.

Except that, the jewelry you had posed with, was now present on the new model posing alongside Mammon.

He had made sure to engrave that smile of yours in his head at the time, even going so far as to snap a picture of your face while you were too focused on Asmo to notice him. But now, there was absolutely no trace of that same happiness anymore.

"The fuck?" The snarl that left him shook the walls of his throat. "That wasn't supposed to be advertised before another month! Why'd they have to take ours so soon?!"

"It's okay, Mammon." The demon stopped growling as his eyes lowered on the hand that was clutching his arm. "I mean... I'm not a model. Figures they wouldn't put it up for long... I-I mean, look at me. Seriously, who would want to see my face being exposed for longer than they can bare? It's hard to imagine. I wouldn't probably have sold their product anyway, so... it's okay."

The look on your face was devastating. Despite trying your best to smile, the tears pricking in your eyes were threatening to roll down your cheeks at any second. Mammon felt his heart being stabbed with a thousand invisible daggers, he couldn't bear to watch you feeling insulted in such a way.

His bags were immediately dropped onto the floor, the demon no longer caring for any of the fragile items he may have bought. His hands swung forward to cup your cheeks, forcing your face up to look at him straight in the eyes.

"Hey hey, MC. C'mon, look at me."

You did your best not to let your vision turn blurry because of the upcoming tears, and stared back at Mammon, your bottom lip trembling weakly.

"I don't care what anyone, model agents or not, can say- you'd sell a thousand more times than any fuckin' models out there, okay? In fact, you're worth even more than their stupid jewelry!"

His thumb quickly brushed away a tear from the corner of your eye as his other hand came to rest on your temple.

"They just put that one up there because that model is famous. They don't care about what's really beautiful, they just want to boast their popularity to the rest of the world." The blue of his eyes seemed to radiate the closer he moved towards you. "But I know what's beautiful. And her? She doesn't compare to you. No one does."

You could only look down in shame as his hands never left you, closing your eyes shut to let a couple tears out before Mammon grabbed a tissue from his pocket to dry your face. He patiently waited a few seconds for you to calm down, soothing you with slow caresses of your hair until your shoulders stopped shaking.

"I'm sorry..." you muttered, sniffling as you passed a wrist over your eyes. "I don't know why that upset me so much..."

"Ya got nothing to be sorry about." Mammon retrieved his hands from your head, only to grab the bags that were hanging off of your arms. He somehow manages to hold them alongside his own behind him, before wrapping the other arm around your shoulder.

"Hey, I'd call this a day. How about I prepare ya a bath when we're home? Courtesy of the Great Mammon."

You nodded, your lips arching into a smile as you grabbed the hand hanging off your shoulder. The day was cut too short for your liking, but you didn't feel up for any additional purchases, or to properly enjoy your outing anymore.

"Will you wash my hair?" You entertwined your fingers with his as he gave them a gentle squeeze.

"Pah, of course! Who else but me could do that?" He huffed through his nose, shaking his head at such an obvious question. Your laugh ringing in his ears gave him a brief moment of respite.

But the demon furrowed his brows as he lead you into your walk back home, keeping you snuggled at his side. Holding the bags in his left hand, his white nails sharply digged into his palm the more steps he took alongside you.

Making them cry? Such a big, big mistake. One thing was sure, Mammon wasn't about to let that one pass.

"But before that..." The hiss that escaped his throat went unnoticed by the two of you as your head rested against his shoulder.

"I'll have a few calls to make."

[beels-burger-babe]

A Pain You'll Soon Regret - Pt. 3

Poly!MC Summary: MC and the demon lords get in a fight resulting in MC leaving. They planned on going to Purgatory Hall until things cool off, but they never quite make it there. TW: Heavy Angst, Violence, I don’t know what to tag this, but there is a pretty nasty verbal fight, Gore/Injury

***I legitimately teared up while writing this. This...This is heavy folks. Please remember to take care of yourselves before, during, and after reading this fic. Be safe lovelies ❤ -B ***

Part 1: HERE, Part 2: HERE, Part 4: HERE

The day had passed by agonizingly slow. The brothers really had no choice but to follow Solomon's orders, so they waited. With every second they could feel the invisible hands grasping their hearts squeeze tighter and tighter.

None of them had left the living room where they had gathered. They were all too frightened that an update on your condition would come in and they wouldn't be there to receive it. At least that's what was silently agreed upon. In reality, they were each taking comfort in being with the only people that could possibly understand what the other was going through.

No one knew what to do or say. There really was nothing to do or say. They had promised to always protect you, and because of a foolish argument, they had failed that in the worst way possible. Finally, after nearly twelve hours of radio silence, Asmodeus's D.D.D. dinged.

Asmodeus had never taken his phone out so quickly before. "Simeon and I are awake. MC is still unconscious. We will let you in and try to get you to see MC. Luke is still adamant about not letting you all in, so be ready for him," Asmo read out loud. Satan huffed as he started towards the door. "I don't care who Luke thinks he is, he's not stopping us from seeing our partner. Let's go."

*** As they arrived at the Hall, all of them were shocked to see a trail of now dried blood leading to the doorway. No matter how long it had been there, the scent still made it glaringly obvious that it was yours. Asmodeus gagged and turned his head away from the sight. "If it's already this bad out here, what are we going to be walking into?" He managed to choke out.

Lucifer swallowed down the lump in his throat and marched ahead. "It doesn't matter. Right now, MC needs us. We failed to be there for them earlier, I refuse to do so again." The eldest lead the charge to the front door of Purgatory Hall. He raised his fist to knock when several voices started shouting from the other side. "You never should've called them here!" "Luke, that's not for you to decide. They're-" "I don't care who they are!!!"

The door suddenly was thrown open just enough to reveal Luke.

You would think that the small angel was the Avatar of Wrath and not Satan. He glared at them with all the fury of the Celestial army. His face was red and his teeth were bared in a snarl. Despite all this anger, however, his eyes were still tinged red with tears.

"Leave now! You're not welcome here!" he barked before going to slam the door; Beel quickly caught it with his hand. "We're not leaving until we see MC." A growl that they had never thought they would hear from sweet little Luke, vibrated from deep within his chest before he began throwing himself at the door, clearly doing everything he could to try and close it.

"NO!!! You don't deserve to see them! You monsters are the reason they're like this! GET OUT! LEAVE!!" Simeon suddenly appeared from within the Hall and pulled Luke against his chest. "Luke, stop it! You're going to hurt yourself!" The young angel screamed and struggled as Simeon softly shushed him. It wasn't long before the screams turned into sobs and Luke broke down in Simeon's arms. The brothers didn't know how to react. Was the state you were in truly so bad to merit such an emotional response from Luke? Dread began to grow more and more within them as guilt kept them frozen in place.

The older angel sighed and gently began to rub Luke's back, before looking at the brothers with an emotionless expression. "As you can see, Luke is greatly concerned with MC's well-being, as we all are," he tightened his hold on Luke before he continued. "You may see them-" "WHA- Simeon, no!!!" Simeon gently shushed him and ran a hand through Luke's hair. "I know. I know you don't want them to, Luke, but they love MC just like you do. At the very least, we should let them see the results of their negligence, don't you think?" The lords winced at the jab and the harsh edges on Simeon's words. It was clear that no one in that house truly wanted them there. Luke pouted. "Fine. But I want to be in the room when they do." Simeon nodded and released the young angel. "Of course. I'm sure MC will be grateful for how attentive you've been to them when they wake up." He ruffled Luke's hair before glancing at the brothers once again. "Follow me." Their footsteps echoed through the quiet halls like a death knell. Each one rang louder and louder in the ears of the worried demons. They hadn't even seen you yet, and even so, each and every one of them were already beginning to wonder how they could ever let this happen to you. Images of you might look like flashed inside their heads. Perhaps you would resemble a mummy from the number of bandages required to heal you. Perhaps you would resemble a corpse, half-dead as you struggled to keep your heartbeat steady. No matter what they imagined, however, nothing prepared them for the real thing. Simeon swung open the doors to the lounge without any word or warning. The brothers' stumbled to a stop and collectively choked at the sight. You were laid out on the table in the middle of the room. Gauze covered a large section of the left side of your cheek and a strip around the circumference of your head. What little skin was visible was sunken in, making you appear dead. If it hadn't been for the shallow rising and falling of your chest, the brothers most certainly would have believed you were. Solomon had been in the process of checking the bandages on your shoulder when they entered, giving each of them a good eye full of the deep bite marks that covered your shoulder, collarbone and neck. There was so much red, that they could barely make out what was an injury and what wasn't. With a nauseous thought, they realized that small chunks of skin had even been torn from the flesh. They must have had to remove your clothes at some point during your healing process, for the only thing that covered you was a thin blanket that was trapped over your torso. All, except Satan, recognized it as one of the blankets from the Celestial realm. Though Satan had put two and two together when he spotted the small tag hanging from a corner with Luke's name written on it in golden cursive. The fact that you were barely covered meant that they could clearly see your bandaged thighs and the small, bandaged, stump of where your leg had been cut off from the knee down. The silence was cut off by a strangled sob from Asmodeus.

Solomon's head snapped as he only now noticed everyone. Rather than moving comfort the demon whom he's had a pact with for centuries, Solomon only narrowed his eyes into a glare and silently went back to work.

Asmodeus moved towards you, shakily reaching out a hand to touch. But he was stopped as Luke quickly slapped the hand away. The angel starred icily at him. "They're still recovering, you idiot. Touch them with your filthy infernal hands and you could infect and kill them."

Asmodeus snarled through his tears, and opened his mouth to shout at Luke, but was stopped when a hand sat on his shoulder. He glanced over to see Satan shaking his head as tears ran down his cheeks.

"He's right," Satan whispered, not bothering to hide the pain in his tone. "They're in an extremely fragile state. We should all, at the very least, wash our hands first." the others looked at him surprised. There wasn't a trace of anger in his voice. Only grief and regret. Satan looked over at Solomon, "Then I'm sure we'd all like to sit with them?"

The others held their breath as they waited for the reply, but Solomon simply remained silent and refused to acknowledge them. "Please," Beelzebub begged through a sob. Belphie held on tightly to his twin's hand. It may have looked as though he had down it to comfort Beel, but in reality, that hand was the only thing keeping him on his feet. Beel took in a stuttered breath before continuing, "W-We messed up last night, and we can't t-take that back, but I-I need to be with them right now. Please. I-I can't leave them again." Again there was only silence, with the exception of Luke grumbling under his breath from where he sat beside you. Mammon huffed and moved towards the basin of water that had been set up on a side table. "Well I'm done waiting for permission," he thoroughly washed his hands and moved towards MC when Simeon moved in front of him. Mammon growled and had to keep himself from bursting into his demon form. "What's the big deal?! You said we could see 'em!" "I said see. Not touch," the angel provided pointedly. Leviathan frowned and came to Mammon's side. "Luke is literally holding their hand right now! He cleaned his hands! There's no reason why Luke should be able to touch them, when we, their significant others can't!" Luke's nostrils flared as he went to lunge at the demon, but was stopped by Solomon putting a hand on his shoulder. The young angel huffed and settled for snarling at them. "I was the one that saved them! I was the one that washed the blood off of their skin after Simeon and Solomon both nearly collapsed from exhaustion after working for four hours straight on keeping them alive. I was there for them! And you weren't!" "We messed up!" Leviathan screamed back, his demon form bursting into existence as he cried. "We messed up and we want to make things better! We want to be there for them now! You can't just keep us from them!" "Leviathan," Lucifer placed a hand on his younger brother's shoulder. "Breathe. Please, I know you're upset. We all are. But we shouldn't forget what caused all of this in the first place." Leviathan ripped himself away from Lucifer's grasp and turned away from everyone. The occasional sob could be heard from him as his shoulders trembled. Lucifer sighed and looked pleadingly at Simeon. "Simeon, please. I know you owe us nothing and that MC may not even want to see them when they awake. But look at them. They're-" he cut himself off as his voice cracked and took a deep breath, "We're a mess. Please, just let us have a moment with them. That's all I ask." For the first time, Simeon's expression softened. He gathered up Luke and nodded at Solomon. The wizard pursed his lips in annoyance and glanced at the brothers once more before leaving the room. Simeon gave Lucifer a hard look as he held on tightly to Luke. "You will notify us immediately should even the slightest thing change from their current condition." Luke gaped at his fellow angel. "Simeon! No! We can't just leave them with those demons! Are you insane?" Simeon gave Luke a small smile. "They won't hurt them. I truly believe they wish to reconcile things and apologize for their words and actions. No matter how upset you may feel, this isn't our relationship Luke. It is not our place to meddle. MC will be safe with them." Luke grumbled under his breath and glowered at the brothers. "If so much as a hair is out of place when I get back, not even Micheal will be able to stop me from the vengeance I will inflict upon you." Mammon opened his mouth make a comeback, but was cut off by Lucifer. "Understood. Thank you for looking after our beloved in our absence." Luke scoffed and shook his head, before leaving with Simeon following behind him. The brothers stood in the room alone. They were with you, and yet they had never felt so far from you. ***To be continued in part 4! Still don't quite know how this will end, but it's bound to hurt. Sorry not sorry. In between uploading parts of this series, I will be doing other fics as well, just since this seems to be quite longer than I

had originally thought 😅 Thank you all for supporting this series! I hope you enjoyed it. Remember to drink water and take care of yourselves! I love you all!***

[obeymeluv]

Isnt devildom liquor weaker than human world liquor? Mc had beat Asmo in a drinking contest. How do you think it they'd act, completely hammered in the human world. I think harder liquor means stupider drunks.

Spoiler alert to the in-game MC’s “heritage” reveal. You know, the descendent/reincarnation thing. If you know, you know.

Below: Thoughts on Devildom liquor + the specific incident Nonnie is talking about with Asmo in game + THE ACTUAL ANSWER TO THE ASK. My bad, haha.

My thoughts on Devildom liquor at that point in the game:

The MC is not as affected because they are human/angel. Maybe the angel part fortifies MC and makes it harder for them to get drunk?

Maybe the HUMAN side of MC is what makes it harder for them to get drunk on Devildom liquor? Like...everything in the Devildom is made primarily for demons so maybe there are ingredients in there that specifically affect those with demon blood. Maybe humans don’t have the biology to be inebriated by those ingredients?

I am a little fuzzy on that point in the game but did Asmo pre-game? Like, a lot? Did we ever find out? I could see him being so emotionally distraught that his lovely MC is leaving that he just wants to be sloshed. Maybe he assumed MC beat him in a drinking contest because he forgot how much he already drank?

Maybe Solomon gave MC a heads up that Asmo was down for drinking and gave them a pre-game potion of their own to ward off the affects.

End hypothesis: Maybe Devildom liquor IS strong (for demons) but that potency just can’t translate in human bodies so the bros (Lucifer especially) don’t want MC drinking it because they’re not sure what it will do. They just ASSUME it will do to MC what it does to them.

Other thoughts: Because demons sprinkled little secrets to the humans over the course of history, gave them trinkets and magic and things, I’d like to think they gave humans the idea or process of alcohol-making but are TOTALLY not prepared for the end result. All the flavors, types, etc. 

As far as I understand it (at the point I’m at in the game), travel between the Devildom and human world was widely discouraged until Diavolo could make a program that united the three realms and improved the overall image. So basically everyone has been separated for thousands of years.

What if demons are equally bad at holding human world liquor? I could just see a drunk Asmo being like, “What is this? Sangria? This isn’t what I told them to call it.” as he’s trying to drink and (speed) walk away from Beel, who wants the fruit out of the pitcher.

I could just see them all getting TOTALLY wasted on human world stuff just because they thought “Ahh, we taught them this 5,000 years ago! Of COURSE we can handle it! We invented it!” (spoiler alert: they cannot). Like, I’d like to think their biology works against them here. They heal quicker and probably get over stomach aches and things quicker, so they probably metabolize alcohol quicker to restore bodily equilibrium so they probably get flash-drunk off of just about anything with a decent alcohol content. 

HOW THEY WOULD ACT (AKA: the real question)

The facts: 

They’re all going to be like drunk kittens, big bassy purrs and wanting to cuddle you or scent you. 

They’ll basically curl up in a pile together; you occasionally have to move body parts (so no one suffocates). 

Do a head count every now and then, give them some crackers/carbs when needed, and put water all around them like a summoning circle because when one of them wakes up, all of them will and they’ll act like big babies

Put a bucket near Lucifer and Asmo, they’re sympathy pukers.

Levi and Belphie need total sensory deprivation when they wake up. You may only breach the darkness to bring them things to settle their stomach and anything to kill the headache

Just give Beel bread and anything like Gatorade/Pedialite. He’ll help you with the others after three loaves or so.

Asmo will be especially pitiful and demand you take care of the others first. Once they’re decently able to take care of themselves he’s near teary-eyed, demanding tummy rubs and tell him he’s still pretty even though he feels awful. Please get him a sheet mask.

Mammon’s not functional enough to help with anything major but he’s standing the next day so he rubs that in everyone’s face. He’s the one shuffling around with a half-eaten sandwich, looking for any comfort item (heating pack, cold wrap for his head). He will demon screech at you if you touch any of the lights in the house.

As Mammon comes to, he demands dim lights and acts like a grumpy mom. He’s making porridge and they better shut up and eat it. Says it’s for him but there’s a suspicious amount of bowls nearby.

Satan just swears he’ll never drink again (like always). Dutifully waits for porridge. Spends most of his time letting cold water run over his head. Can’t spend too much time hunched over because he gets nauseous. Baby him a little. Find a way to let his head float in a bit of water where he can lay down and he’s as quiet as a mouse. 

Who can drink the most? (Best to worst - my opinions only)

1) Beel (body mass helps), 2) Mammon (party king), 3) Asmodeus (huuuge history with mixed drinks. Boy is READY), 4) Lucifer, 5) Satan (neck and neck with Lucifer - casual drinker only. Even wine is rare for him), 6) Leviathan, 7) Belphie (usually sleeping instead of drinking). 

Lucifer:

We’ve seen little gags about how ‘Lucifer got drunk and unplugged the router’ so this guy’s either going to be super cuddly, a hot mess, or both

You know the people who fluff their hair, comb it back, undo a tie or some buttons and just get comfy as they drink? That’s Lucifer.

He’ll smile a bit more, laugh a bit more, and there will be some color to his cheeks

He’s not sloppy, just cozy. 

Drunk Lucifer is not overly loud but he is honest. He won’t throw himself into groups or pester all the brothers, but he’s up for some accidentally-heartwarming one-on-one

When he’s drunk he’ll lay his head on your shoulder and let you play with his hair

Will not win any drinking games. Is actually a lightweight compared to his brothers (see best > worst drinker, above).

Mammon:

GO BIG OR GO HOME! MAMMON’S HERE TO PLAY FOR BIG MONEY! (AKA: bragging rights that he can handle more than his brothers)

He and Asmo are quick to get the drinks flowing because they want to try shots of everything. 

He and Asmo are pretty good at matching brothers to drinks and tasting subtle notes, things like that

Show Mammon beer pong once and it’s done. He’s betting the brothers he can whoop them and is somehow able to pull off ping pong ball math to get Lucifer shit-faced real quick (might do it even faster if Belphie or Satan slip him some money)

The type to be like “Bet you I can hit that cup right there--third row, second from the left.” and can do it flawlessly. You have to give him head pats or $5, that’s the rules.

He’ll be one of the bros you have to chase around and make put his clothes back on. Boy will try to strip and strut

Will definitely hoard his favorite bottle (picked it on smell) and spend a majority of the time trying to drink it and avoid the bros. (”YOU CAN’T MAKE ME SHARE IF YOU CAN’T CATCH ME!”)

Leviathan

Not the best drinker. Not a frequent drinker at all.

His envy makes him drink because as he starts to go on a tangent about how ‘it’s not fair! Everyone’s having a good time!’ when he realizes it’s as easy as picking up a drink. Like...he can join in too.

Levi won’t grab himself an alcoholic drink because he’s a nervous over-thinker. Asmo or Mammon will just hand him a cup like the resident Liquor Fairy and he trusts their judgement

The first one to let his demon form out just because the liquor is a little warm in his belly and he feels like he’s flying? Also comfortable?

The excited drunk who goes on animated, slurred rants

The loud laugher

He’s honestly so adorably animated that anyone who knew him would be surprised? He seems far from a shut in

Trade off: he can’t hold his liquor well

Boy probably trips on his own tail or thinks something snagged his ankle to bring him down when, in fact, he just fell down

Sways when he sits

When he’s done, he just wants a nice comfy lap to lay in and maybe play with his hair. 

Like Lucifer, liquor will make him confess all his feelings. 

Watch out for the tail. It will be all over you when he starts to lose the ability to wrap it around himself.

Satan:

It’s a toss-up as to whether he gets drunk before Lucifer or vice versa. I’d like to think his tolerance is slightly higher since he might run in the same circles as Asmo, but he is a part of Lucifer so I’m sure it balances out

He’s a drink snob and this is what hurts him the most. He goes to fancy tastings and random things he’s invited to, but this is a drop in the bucket

He’s never gone hardcore before because he’s afraid he’ll be prone to anger

He’s not. He’s actually a lot like Levi. He just wants to smile and laugh and have fun.

The one who knows a lot of random/interesting stuff and has unexpectedly awesome party tricks

He and Asmo act as instigators and somehow con everyone else into getting drunk. It’s mostly because he wants blackmail material, but he enjoys the mind games

He’s the one you’re going to have to carry BUT he’s super chill when he’s having a good time. You want him to wear a lampshade? Okay, but only if you call him Enlightened One (get it?)

Makes bad jokes. Lucifer definitely laughs

The one that randomly dances with someone at the party. But it’s a fancy dance or slow dance, not something crazy

Will try to prove he’s not as drunk as he is by reading or reciting something and just breaks down into snorts and giggles

Cat Mode: Activated. He wants to be all over you. Hug him and play with his hair, please.

Asmo:

Asmo isn’t really different from his usual self.

He’s a little social butterfly, making his rounds and checking on people

He’s the silent, sneaky drunk. No one notices he’s drunk until his face starts getting red and his eyes get glassy

The quiet cuddler. Just progressively gets closer to you until he’s resting his head on your shoulder, hugging you from the side and asking you to give him his drink.

Would be the happiest person on the planet if you literally just held his drink up to his lips and let him drink it when he wanted to. You just love him so much?! You’re so thoughtful?! He wants to cry

Guilty party #2 for ‘chase him around and make him put his clothes back on’

Next in line for ‘Liquor makes me tell the truth and my darkest secrets’.

Will try any activity at the party and will dance at least once with everybody

If he gets in a fight, that’s because someone doesn’t respect what he put on the party playlist. He knows good music, okay?!

Has a personal goal to steal one drink from everyone, drink it before they realize, and hand them back the empty cup as he slips away. Something about it just amuses him.

Wants to leave lipstick/lip gloss kisses on people. Thinks they’re the cutest accessory!

The one who loses something at the party and makes everyone look for it the next day

The one who’s passed out in a random spot and no one has the heart to move them but everyone checks on them to make sure they’re safe. When everyone’s turned in for the night, he is safely moved like the precious baby he is.

Beel:

The one who takes the longest to get drunk. You don’t know if it’s because of his build or how much he ate to offset the alcohol

Unofficial baby sitter of the group. Pays special attention to everyone but Belphie, Asmo, and Levi in particular.

Not super loud. Just vibes and enjoys time with his family.

He’ll participate in the party activities because he does have that competitive streak but he’s not as invested in it as Mammon. If he wins at least once he’s proved his point and is on to something else

Surprsingly, #3 to ‘you might have to chase him and make him put his clothes on’. Drunk Beel is convinced he’ll get over the alcohol faster with less clothes because of temperature regulation and something that doesn’t really make sense because he’s slurring

Will drink more if Belphie is nearby or if he can hold onto Belphie. Taking care of Belphie and knowing he’s okay (in a tactile way) makes him a little more carefree. 

Doesn’t really confess like the other bros but he’s the one no one can really hear talking because his purr takes over everything. His purrs are so loud and deep! Big boy is truly happy

Drunk Beel is affectionate as ever and this is where you learn that demons can express affection by licking people. Most of the bros end up with a Simba-style mohawk. It’s just one lick but Beel’s got a long tongue and it fucks with hair real good.

Will jump in for a song or two if karaoke is a thing at the party. A really good singer but wouldn’t do it unless he had a decent amount of alcohol in him.

He’s the type to trip over stuff trying to help clean up. If he falls down he says he’s just ‘taking a break’ and will ‘help in a minute’. Might not get up again.

Once Beel lays down, Belphie, Satan, and Levi drunk crawl/stumble/slither over to him for warmth. This is how the cuddle pile starts.

When he lays down, if you get anywhere near him, he’s begging you to lay down with him. Wants to whisper little compliments and lovely things. A big sap. Handsy but will definitely know when to lay off and will listen if you get uncomfortable. 

Belphie:

Honestly, doesn’t really drink. He’s more interested in the nap.

His biggest motivation is to get the others drunk so everyone’s quiet and he can sleep. Definitely wants Lucifer blackmail.

He’ll have a few things but he prefers a lot of something mild versus a mix or a few shots of something super potent

Will try the funnel drink challenge.

The third enticer. He wants to work everyone up (Lucifer especially) and get the booze going.

Borrows off of Beel’s body mass and ability to handle alcohol here and there, but it all catches up with him eventually

The type to have really diluted drinks because he’s already sleepy by nature and doesn’t want to faceplant with a shot glass.

Will slow dance with Asmo. When Asmo starts to struggle with his weight as Belphie gets cozy and sleepy, Beel steps in and you just see the twins purring and warbling to each other as Beel just scoops him up and lets him sit on his hip like a toddler.

Another one who wants to slither into your lap and take all your attention.

The type to do random shit like boop your nose and giggle about it.

The one who doesn’t want anyone else to touch you. If he’s laying on you then the others need to leave you alone. It’s not hard to understand!

[belphies-cuhm-sluht]

A continuation on the cheating Lucifer post plzzzz x

Mystic Rhythms (Lucifer x GN!MC)

A/N : I fell up my stairs today and bruised my kneecaps and my forearms when I tried to catch myself... That shit is embarrassing, especially when everyone runs out of their rooms to see you laying there trying to figure out what the fuck just happened. My knees hurt. But, anyway... The title is a song that I was listening to while I wrote this... It doesn't have anything to do with the writing at all, it's just a damn good song. Mystic Rhythms by Rush, highly recommend.

Part 1

Word Count : 2k T/W : cheating ; mentions of cheating ; Lucifer being a flat out dickhole ;

There was no way that you could possibly leave. Lord Diavolo wouldn’t allow it, would he? Of course not. In a matter of days you would emerge from your room, running back through the doors of his office to tell him how much you missed him. He was sure of it, his pride wouldn’t let him think any different. He would go about his days as if nothing happened, because in his mind, nothing happened at all. It was a little bit of fun to take his mind off of the stress that came along with his work, and yes, he could have gone to you for that kind of fun, but he also needed a little bit of change, a little bit of something to keep things interesting. It wasn’t exactly his fault that you happened to catch him having his fun. You shouldn’t have been out of the house anyway, a matter that he would have to handle with his brothers. They should have been watching you, making sure that you didn’t leave the house at all. Surely they know how dangerous the Devildom is outside of the House of Lamentation. It was everyone else’s fault but his own, and he’d stick by that until you and everyone else believed him.

Days passed and the armchair across from his desk began to bother him. It was empty, the entirety of the office was empty. Things were quiet, not a peep from even his brothers who would usually barge in and bother him at any given moment. It used to be annoying, but now it just seemed strange that it wasn’t happening at all. Not only did the lack of his brother's constant interruptions cause him unease, but the lack of you. Was he so used to you being there that the absence was this bothersome to him? It shouldn’t be that way, it shouldn’t bother him at all, but he was finding it increasingly difficult to focus on his work without some sort of distraction. These distractions gave him breaks, they allowed his mind that tiny bit of time to relax, to ease the stress. Now there was nothing, nothing but the work in front of him, and it was, in a sense, almost worse than before you got there at all. Even then, he had his brothers to agitate him. Now it just seemed like they were avoiding him, or doing everything in their power to drive him nuts by not being around. It made no sense to him, none at all. He should be thankful for the silence, for the uninterrupted time that he was being given to finish his tasks at hand, but he wasn’t. His phone vibrated on the desk, and in the complete silence of his office it sounded so loud, loud enough to make him jump back for a moment before fumbling forward to grab it. There was no reason to be like this, his mind was reeling for no particular reason at all, at least that’s what he told himself. He told himself a lot of things, most of them were based on his pride, or they were based on the image of himself that he wanted everyone to believe was real. Much like the whole cheating thing, something that he’d never willingly admit to, he didn’t want anyone to think he was the kind of demon to do such a thing. Not only would it ruin his image, but it would ruin the image of Lord Diavolo who he was around more often than not. A little harmless fun shouldn’t potentially ruin the image of the Future King, should it? There it was again, his subconscious mind speaking what he couldn’t out loud, taking his mind off of the phone that was now in his hand until it vibrated again. He assumed that it was you, prideful assumptions based off of thoughts that held no reason. If he were to be honest with himself, he knew that there was no reason for you to call him at all. If he were to be fully honest with himself, he knew all too well that there was no way for you to call him or message him at all if you had really done what you said you would do. But being honest with himself isn’t something that he’s good at. Being honest with anyone isn’t his best skill. There was no need to be honest when lies are much easier to live with. “You’ve been silent for a while, is everything alright?” The message read, and the name at the top wasn’t one that he’d like to see, but it was one that he knew well. Silence, it was becoming something that he was surrounded by. He wasn’t silent, but the world around him seemed to turn that way. It was penetrable and unbearable, he couldn’t take it for a moment more. With the push of a button and a swipe of his gloved finger, he quickly turned off his phone and placed it back on his desk. They could bear the silence for a little while longer, but he couldn’t. He needed to talk to someone, he needed to talk to you, even if it meant that you were yelling at him, screaming at him for the acts that he committed. His office wasn’t the only room that way empty, the house itself seemed to have been abandoned. There were no sounds of life coming from any of his brother's rooms, and he found it hard to imagine that all of them had a place to be that wasn’t inside these four walls, especially Leviathan. This only had him moving faster down the corridor until he finally reached the door to your room. He didn’t bother with knocking, the sound of his knuckles against the wood would be deafening in the silence. With a quick turn of the doorknob it was pushed open, revealing to him the truth of

the words that you had said when you walked out of his office. You were gone, you had actually left, and whether you had actually gone back up to the human realm or just gone somewhere else in the Devildom, one thing was clear. You didn’t want to be around him, you didn’t even want to be under the same roof as him, and it seemed that his brother’s felt the same way. He was alone, and as pleasant as the thought seemed to him before, now it scared him.

You sat on the bed in your room, looking up at the six demons who refused to let you go alone. They had tried to make you stay in the Devildom, but upon hearing about what Lucifer had done, they completely understood why you’d want to leave, as hard as it was for them. It didn’t change the fact that they cared about you though, far more than anyone you had ever known, and they weren’t going to leave until they knew for a fact that you’d be safe without them. “Is there any way that you can fix her D.D.D so that it’ll work up here?” Satan asked, looking over at Levi who was awkwardly looking around your bedroom. You weren’t sure if his demeanor was based on the fact that he was in someone’s room other than his own, or if it was the fact that he was in your room, but Satan’s question had him stumbling over his words for a second before answering his brother. “I’m… I’m not sure. I-It’s never been done before, I’ve never had to do it… It might take a couple days… J-Just to figure everything out… You know…” He ran his hand through his hair before sitting down on the floor, nervously twirling the drawstrings of his sweatpants around his finger as the motors in his mind seemed to visibly turn. You didn’t want him to overthink it, and you didn’t want him to stress himself out by thinking too hard about it, so you quickly slid off the edge of your bed to sit next to him on the floor, patting his knee and giving him a little smile. “Don’t worry too much about it right now, alright? We’ll figure something out.” Your hand on his knee had his cheeks burning bright red, but he quickly nodded in agreement, and you could almost see the stress leaving him as he finally relaxed. “So, since you all are here… I can order some food to the house for dinner?” It was strange having them all there, well, all but one of them… It was strange, yet comforting. You didn’t want to be alone, not right now, not after everything that happened, so you were grateful for their presence. The mention of food had Beel lighting up, practically dropping to the floor next to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “Dinner and movies? Human world movies? And since Levi said it could take a few days, we can all stay here and sleep in your room, right?” It was impossible to tell him no, he looked so excited at the thought of it, and everyone else in the room had perked up at his words. There was no way that they would all be able to fit in your bed though, and all of them sleeping on the floor didn’t sit right with you. You’d have to figure something out, and it would most likely turn into a shopping trip to buy more blankets and pillows just so they’d be comfortable. The thought of a sleepover, in a sense, was nice though. It would be the perfect way to keep your mind off of everything, for you to relax, laugh, and have some fun with your six favorite demons.

The door knocked just as the six of you settled into the couch, the movie had just been unpaused and everyone was taking the first bites of their pizza slices. Everything had been delivered, there was no reason for the door to knock, so you decided to ignore it, just as all the other brothers did, hoping that whoever it was would take the hint and go away. That wasn’t the case though, and the knock came louder this time, almost like whoever it was was trying to break down your door. “You don’t have to pause it… Maybe it’s the delivery guy… Maybe I forgot something…” You shrugged, pushing yourself up from the couch and walking over to the door. You weren’t expecting anyone, you weren’t expecting anything, and you surely weren’t expecting him. Your stomach dropped when you saw him, his crimson eyes boring into your own. “I see you have quite the party going on here. Shame I wasn’t invited since I am the reason for this gathering, am I not?” It seemed that in that moment, time stood still. The wind that had been rustling the leaves of the trees had suddenly come to a stop, the sounds of the movie behind you had gone silent, even the sound of fabric brushing against itself whenever the brothers shifted on the couch wasn’t heard anymore. Everything had gone still, everything had become eerily quiet, and the only things you could hear was Lucifer’s voice and the sound of your heart beating faster in your chest. “Oh, don’t worry darling. I only had to take care of a few minor details, just to make sure our conversation wasn’t interrupted by my brothers.” His smirk sent shivers down your spine and had your stomach doing flips. This was the last place you expected to see him, but then again, you had told him that you wanted to leave. The only thing was, you didn’t expect him to follow you. It had taken days for you to convince Lord Diavolo to let you go back to the human realm, especially with all the other brothers begging you not to, begging Lord Diavolo not to agree, but he had finally allowed it, and that was the day that Lucifer decided to come to you. It was pathetic, and seeing him made you physically ill, but you had to stay strong just as you had before. “What are you doing here?”

[her-devils-advocate]

Sensei Levi, Teach me!

♥. Genre: Fluff with implied eventual romance

♥. pairings: Levi + F!Mc

♥. content warnings: None

♥. notes: This was inspired by an actual conversation I had with a friend while we were watching something on Twitch. With him in having to teach me things and with me in MC's shoes, being completely confused by the chat!

♥. Word count: 1019

Sighing quietly to herself, she lets her phone drop down onto the plush bed in a huff. What did those small images flooding the chat even mean? All she wanted was to watch the latest “First Fantasy 28” stream on DevilTube so that she could connect more with the shy brother, Leviathan. How was she supposed to understand what the blue troll with extended lips was supposed to signify within the comments and why 15 other demons suddenly began commenting the same thing within mere seconds?

Rising from the bed, she figures that there's no better teacher than the tech expert of the house himself. Nimble fingers quickly send out a warning text, alerting him to soon expect her presence within the safety of his often locked bedroom.

The long hallways of the House of Lamentation stretch out before her as she gathers her courage and sets course for the third born's bedroom. She had no reason to fear him, not anymore. Any issues which were present between them back when the exchange program was still new had long since been settled. Still…she couldn’t help but worry, she desperately wanted the Avatar of Envy to warm up to her, they shared similar interests after all. The worst he could do would be to turn her away…or laugh in her face as she asks for his assistance. But there was no point in expecting the worst. If that were to happen, she would just have to try and ask someone else. Regardless of her original intentions behind learning the meaning of these weird images, she was now extremely curious about them. Were they just a Devildom thing that she hadn’t been exposed to yet or were they also found within the Human Realm as well? 

Never caring about live streams until arriving in the Devildom and meeting Levi didn’t help with her gap of knowledge. 

Eyeing up the imposing door of his room before hanging her head low, she gently knocks upon it two times, as she brings her fist down to knock a third time she is met with a soft yet firm surface instead. 

Her head shoots up, wide orange eyes peer at her in frozen shock, neither person willing to speak or move.

“Uh…sorry about that… Hi Levi…I need your help explaining to me what these odd little images in the chat section of DevilTube mean” slowly lowering her fist from his chest, she awkwardly pats the area of impact before squeezing herself between his still frozen form and the door frame.

“G-geeze normie…why are you asking me? I’m just some useless otaku, it’s not like I would be able to actually teach you something…won’t you just get bored…? I’m worthless and I ramble, you will just get annoyed with me…” 

Levi looks towards the small woman for a split second before rapidly swapping between looking everywhere in his room besides her. Why was she asking him for help? Granted he knew the most about online culture out of all of his brothers, maybe besides Asmo who seemed to be equally immersed in his D.D.D at times. Did she really want help or was she humoring him out of pity? Part of him was glad she had come to him for help, he didn’t want her going to any of his brothers. Not with something he was an expert at. It would be insulting to see her asking someone like Satan for help when Levi himself was right there. Besides…didn’t Levi long to get more time with her alone without the rest of his annoying brothers trying to steal her attention away from him?

“Pretty please Levi, with a cherry on top?” Gazing up at him with pleading eyes, she begs in a melodic, sing-song voice. Rocking back and forth on her heels before him, completely unaware that his anti-social walls were slowly breaking apart before her. He would be a fool to continue to keep her at arm's length when she was acting this cute in front of him, that's something reserved for his greedy older brother who was still tripping over his own feet, waiting for a chance like this to fall into his reach.

“I want to watch these streams with you but I can’t understand what most of these demons are saying in chat half the time! It’s so frustrating!” 

With a worryingly large huff for a person of her stature, she grabs his arm and pulls him towards his computer and with one final yet dramatic sigh, she throws herself into his chair. Unwilling to move until she was satisfied with newfound knowledge.

With a now scarlet face, he watches as the small woman pulls up a stream on his monitor and pathetically waves towards its general direction as an army of small icons flood the screen, their pace never slowing before the next onslaught of icons take over.

“T-thats just ‘DedePOG’...I-it’s just used to show excitement. LOL, you really didn’t know that normie? That's something I’d usually expect from a mega noob.” Not bothering to hide his shocked laugh at something so obvious, Levi quickly opens a new tab, bringing up the images in full screen so that they could look at them in more detail.

With an exaggerated gasp at the insult, she spins in his gaming chair, her laugh invading the room and Levi’s chest in a way which confuses him. Why was he feeling this for some normie? How embarrassing. But then again, she wasn’t just some normie, she was his Henry after all.

“Fine then smartass, what does that mean?” Her gentle voice breaks him from his trance. Unknowing of the emotional turmoil that something as simple as her laugh had sent him in.

“A-are you kidding me? OMD human, how are you this oblivious? It's easy to understand that one, that's just DevilS. It’s often used to… ah…”

Trailing off with his explanation, he is greeted with her blank yet adorably confused expression, making his heart do flips within his chest. This was going to be a long night for the both of them.

[lailoken]

“The idea that associating faeries and Witches with the dead related to an initiatory phase of the faerie encounter makes sense of why faeries are often confused with the dead, and why Witches are relentlessly associated with death. The Witch as poisoner of the well and bringer of disease is much like the apples of the Underworld upon which the Queen of Elphame claims "all the plagues of hell are upon," which could even be taken literally as diseases.

There is a risk in passing through the realm of the dead to get to the Crooked Path, there is a risk of an incomplete initiation that brings back demons of madness and disease instead of healing powers. For this reason many of the motifs of Witchcraft have to do with initiatory death and the Underworld, even though it is as much about the realm of Faerie as it is about the world of the dead. What we see in Witchcraft are images of blackness, skulls, bones, poisons and narcotic ointments, curses, animalistic transformations, cannibalism, perverse sex, and sorcerous tortures. This is all the uninitiated or partly initiated ever get to see. Our faerie light, the cunning fire, is hidden from view, but hidden in plain sight.

Initiation in other shamanic cultures involves things like dismemberment, eating of the flesh and blood by demonic entities and heating and forging symbolism. Eva Pocs talks about the way something was often removed or put in during a Witch's initiation in the Balkans. She says the removal of a bone or even the little finger was required in some parts of Europe. Just as Witches sucked illnesses or fairy darts out in the British Isles so did other Witches remove a bone from the body of an initiate, scratch them and take their blood for a pact or take something else from them that would serve as a relic of their personal power. The procedures of healing and the processes of induction into the cult resonate profoundly, and initiation can be seen as a form of drastic healing.

Things may also be inserted into people's bodies, both by faeries and Witches. You can see in the following charm that way back since the dark ages both faeries and Witches have been linked together in the practice of throwing elf shot or "witch shot" as it was also called.

The tenth century metrical charm “Against A Sudden Stitch" (WiÐ fœrstice) offers remedy against sudden pain (such as rheumatism) caused by projectiles of either ése [gods], ylfe [elves] or Witches (gif hit weere esa gescot OÐÐE hit wœre ylfa gescot 0ÐĐº hit wære hægtessan gescot) “be it Ése-shot or elf-shot or witch-shot." This brings to mind the physical ways in which Witches are renowned for putting things in people, such as pins of blackthorn into the heart of a poppet doll. The bewitched were sometimes seen to vomit up pins, and the tangled hair of the one who had hexed them. In this way both for good or ill, Witches and faeries were united in being held responsible for either removing strange body parts like an extra unnoticed bone, or instead inserting magical objects into the body of either a victim or potential initiate. As we have seen, when it comes to the realm of Faerie and humans the only difference between victim and initiate is a strong familiar spirit who acts as a kind of bridge and guide between the worlds.

Eva Pocs gives an account of how death and resurrection experiences were part of becoming known as a woman or man of Faerie. Lady Wilde also spoke how Irish Faerie Doctors often acquired their trade through having spent time in Faerie following abduction. Pocs tells us in her Fairies and Witches at the Boundary of South-Eastern and Central Europe that the living ones, as in people who had not passed through the initiation trauma, were not permitted to gaze upon the Otherworld in Balkan traditions. But the light-shadowed people who were either faerie already, or who had been taken away and "changed" were allowed to know it. The light- shadow was perceived as an aura around the person's head like a halo.

"As far as 'transitory death' and temporary soul journeys are concerned, they, according to several beliefs, mean initiation; if someone has ever looked into that other world,—eg. Has seen the fairies who must not be seen by a living person,—from that time on he/she is considered initiated." Or as another account from the area puts it: “The faeries killed him but revived him, giving him power." 

During these abductions the iele takes out a piece of bone and replaces it with a stake or wheel spoke. One year later in the same location they put back the removed bone. This trope of something being removed or inserted into the body of the initiate is found in many shamanic cultures throughout the world. In some cases the shaman is believe to be in possession of an extra bone that must be counted by the spirits.

These faerie motifs of abduction, initiatory death and repatriation into the community with altered status, and the insertion or removal of body parts and blood are all clues to better understanding how Witchcraft flows forth from the Faerie Faith. Eva Pocs points out the following similarities. Just like faeries:

"The witch, for instance, flies in the form of a crow or a whirl-wind, sits in a swallows nest, where she seems to sometimes be little, sometimes big, and sometimes disappears, she walks on the top of trees as quickly as the wind; or the whole witch company 'transforms into crows and alights on wil- lows'. They travel in green coaches on the top of the trees..."

Of course this close connection between the Faerie Faith and Witches was muddied by persecution of the Craft. The faerie practices were increasingly assimilated into the household and moved away from the wilderness, with Sicilian Fairie Witches going from house to house, rather than out into the forest. Meanwhile Witchcraft was given all of the dangerous Otherwise characteristics, the ones so crucial to initiation that were slowly being stripped from the faerie narrative. In the process the realm of Faerie was losing its teeth and claws, and Witchcraft was being vilified almost out of existence.

All of the negative or dark attributes of the faeries, which were originally part of their primordial ambivalence, were gradually settled on Witches. Cunning practices became strongly associated with Faerie, and Witchcraft with demons, even though originally it is almost impossible to make this distinction in a meaningful way. In this way most forgot that Witches serve with the right hand as surely as they blight with the left, a characteristic shared with the fées of Brittany. Faeries throw darts and blast crops as surely as they bestow blessings and cure the diseases they cause.

LOnce faeries, and the human practitioners of magic who had faeries for familiars, both shared in those characteristics, including the ones that do mankind good, and those that do mankind ill. Faeries, and the Witchcraft that grows forth from it into the human side of the hedge, carry with them all the plagues and poisons of the Earth, and also the potential inoculation and medicine that affects every cure.

Only those who have passed through the world of the dead are offered access to the Third Path. Only he who has walked that path and come back wearing the virid doublet of Faerie and learned to keep silent, can now come back and eat of the fruit upon which all of the plagues of Hell alight to find the secret of their cure. In the Underworld, the Tree of Knowledge and the Tree of Life and Death are the same tree.

Even in Britain where we don't find the bone tak- ing motif and only occasionally see an explicit spiritual death followed by resurrection, we do find the passing of the breath, where a Witch's shadow is able to enter someone else, giving them soul, through the breath and mouth, or illnesses is sucked away with the mouth. Witch teats also allow something to be sucked away as a form of nourishment to the familiar, who also sometimes drank the Witch's blood drops. Familiars were sometimes put in another person by blowing them into someone's mouth and we may conjecture during sexual encounters with faerie beings where vital force was being taken out and inspiration put in.

The relationship between faeries and Witches is as much peppered in the language of consumption and assimilation through eating as it is in sexual ex- pression. Witches and their familiars live off each other, eat of one another. Here do we perhaps find the origins of the "eat of me" theme behind the Housel or Red Meal. Where some Witches consume the body and blood of their Devil and his Dame, just as the Christians consume Jesus Christ.

In this natural religiosity of consumption and mutual nourishment we see the foreshadowing of all such edible sacraments. The spirit world is understood to enjoy blood. As early as the 13th century in Ireland Alice Kyteler sacrificed a black cock at the crossroads to the spirit Robin Artisson, her spirit lover and familiar—himself a man of Faerie, a dweller at crossroads.

Jeffrey Burton Russell says of Robin Artisson: “As much like a faerie as a witch's familiar, Robin appeared in a number of shapes, a cat, a shaggy dog or an Ethiopian."

Alice was also said to gamble about on a salve-covered broom (no talk of flying on it only of putting ointment on it mounting it and moving around) so perhaps something was introduced into her body via the salve. Even if the straddling of the broom does not suggest intimate applications of the unguent, flying ointments, regardless of how they are administered are always an herbal formula given to them from outside the hedge, which is put into the body via the pores of the skin.

Another Witchcraft tradition, prominent mainly in Britain that involves taking something out, is the practice of taking blood above the breath. This procedure, where one suspected of bewitching someone was attacked and scratched badly enough to make blood flow, usually above the nose and mouth, was believed to neutralize their power for a time. We can conjecture that the reason has to do with the way power or Virtue is considered to be stored in blood and breath and is connected via an invisible thread to the power of the familiar spirit nourished by these two things. The Witch's power and virtue is expected to leak out in great glut in blood above the breath because so much power lives in the skull. Drawing the blood above the breath can be seen as an attack on the Witchs familiar as well as herself. It is quite illuminating to look closely at the scratching attack on Joan Guppy, whom we have mentioned earlier in relation to Faerie Doctoring.

"They scratched her face with overgrown brambles, saying that Guppy 'was a witch and they came for the blood and they would have it and her life also before ... they left her." Not just blood but "the blood" — witch-blood. This statement is reminiscent of the sweet blood faerie Witches were believed to have in Sicily. We can conjecture that when they say they came for the blood and would have "her life" before they left, what they actually meant was her soul force or magical virtue, as they didn't actually kill her. Witchblood, sweet blood, the power that holds a tenuous thread, like a bridge made of one hair, between this world and the paradise of Elphame—a thread that must cross the abyss of Hell and is like-wise just as capable of unleashing it.”

—

Sounds of Infinity

Chapter 9: ‘Faerie Doctors and Magicians’

by Lee Morgan

[oneyeartoparty]

The brothers react to discovering they’re MC’s biggest fear

Wow the last few weeks have been hectic for me. Been feeling incredibly alone and don’t have anyone to talk to and found out I need surgery which will happen sometime soon. I’m glad to have gotten to motivation to get this out for you guys. I’ve a request coming next so keep an eye out. This one is based on how MC has been through so much and what if this affected MC greater than they realized? I hope you all enjoy this =)

WARNING: This react has spoilers for all of Obey Me up to Chapter 60

This story contains: Blood, mentions of death/murder, traumatic experiences.

Lucifer

Lucifer is cautious as he enters the room the bogeyman is hiding in with MC in tow.  Few things scare him, but what does are things he’d rather MC not know about.

Still, above all else he wants MC to be safe. If that means they find out something about him he’d rather them not know about, then so be it. Their safety and happiness are his priority.

As the bogeyman before them begins to warp its shape, he puts up his guard. With their combined power, Lucifer is sure the bogeyman, no matter which form it takes will be a triviality to deal with.

MC is too consumed by fear to see the shock and guilt consume Lucifer as, surprisingly, the bogeyman turns into him.

“Did you think you wouldn’t face consequences for your actions, MC? You’ve broken so many rules, interfered so much, that it's time you paid for your insolence with your pathetic human life!”

The real Lucifer was quick to banish his fake as it pounced on them. With it gone, he focused his full attention on MC, who was completely still, gazing at where the bogeyman once was.

He knelt, taking their hands in his own, rubbing them gently to slowly calm MC down. He told them he was sorry he’d scared them so badly. He would do whatever it took to fix his horrible mistake.

With a kiss to the back of their hand, he promised for as long as MC loved him, he would never do something to make them so scared again.

Mammon

Mammon was already terrified at the thought of facing the bogeyman again. Even a fake Lucifer was terrifying, and it was something he didn’t ever want to see again.

Still, with some gentle coaxing from MC, he followed them to face down the bogeyman. Once they enter the room, he moves behind MC to hide, while simultaneously bragging about how unafraid he is.

A rumbling begins that causes Mammon to jump. He sinks behind MC, awaiting the appearance of Lucifer, but to his surprise, nothing happens.

At first, Mammon is ecstatic! They’d easily banished the bogeyman without a scratch or scare. He is soon brought back to reality when he hears MC’s panicked cries.

“Mammon? Mammon can you hear me? Please don’t leave me again. Lucifer said you’d look after me and I’m confused and scared. Please come back, I won’t be annoying anymore. Please.”

At that moment Mammon comes to the horrible realisation that his abandonment of MC during their first few weeks in the Devildom when he saw them as nothing more than a burden had taken its toll.

He hugs them desperately, telling MC over and over that he is here and that if they wish it, he will never leave their side again. He tells MC that he’s sorry and that he loves them.

From then on, Mammon sticks to MC like glue. No matter where they go, he’ll follow unless they say otherwise. He promises to always be there to make sure they know they’re adored and never, ever alone.

Leviathan

It takes a lot of convincing to get Levi to accompany MC to confront the bogeyman, but he decides to go because the thought of MC going alone is something far worse than a fake, albeit horrifying copy of Lucifer.

Instead of Lucifer, however, what appears is another version of him in his demonic form. It looks furious, its tail flicking back and forth, knocking over lamps, leaving holes in the wall and smashing the window.

Levi though it would target him. After all MC had protection right? But it became clear and the creature turned to MC, its rage only increasing as it began to shout at the scared human.

“YOU CHEATED MC! I’M THE BIGGEST TSL FAN, NO ONE CAN BEAT ME IN A TSL QUIZ WITHOUT CHEATING!”

His copy keeping screaming at MC, looking ready to pounce at any moment. The real Levi for his part wanted to scuttle out of the room and forget what had happened. But he was spurred on by his love and need to protect MC.

Using his considerable power, he banished the bogeyman, the false version of him fading with a shrill shriek, leaving only MC cowering in fear.

Levi rushed to them, hugging them, peppering them with kisses (something that will later bring a blush to his face) and promising them he’ll never do anything to make them that scared again.

He keeps his word and is also careful to manage his temper when it comes to his passions while MC is around. He also does his best to work with them to help them overcome their fear.

Satan

Satan isn’t fearful of the bogeyman as he entered the room with MC. He wants the creature gone, especially after it scared his brothers so badly. Upsetting his brothers like that is not something he will let go of so easily.

He wonders what the creature will become when they encounter it. He doesn’t have any fears, at least any he will admit to himself, and MC has the blessing of Luke. Would it even be able to do anything against them at all?

As the door closed behind them the creature begins to morph. Satan decides to take this moment to banish it, wanting to be rid of it before it caused them problems. He pauses though when what appears before him is none other than himself in demon form.

“How DARE you compare me to Lucifer MC! How foolish I was to expect anything more from a sniveling, weak human. Now you’ll pay fo-.”

Before the copy has a chance to do anything more, Satan acts, banishing the creature from sight to some distant unknown realm.

The threat gone, he turned his attention to MC. They were still as stone, still scared of the image of him. Guilt floods him, and he rushes to MC, profusely apologising and begging them to forgive him. He has done so much damage to his love that he can’t forgive himself until MC is happy again.

Being the Avatar of Wrath, he will always have an angry side, but he does his best to calm down and refrain from getting out of control while MC is around. He also becomes far more affectionate, often snuggling with them as he reads them stories or watching cat documentaries.

Asmodeus

Asmo is worried about how ugly the bogeyman will make him. He knows that his greatest fear is being ugly, and it brings him genuine fear thinking of all the horrible, ugly versions of him the bogeyman could conjure.

The form the creature creates is of him, but he’s his normal, beautiful and dazzling self. He thinks it’s a trick for a moment, and he waits for the form to shift. Instead, it speaks, looking directly at MC.

“Why would I love someone like you? I’m perfection incarnate. You’re my plaything, someone I’ll discard like the rest. Don’t think my affectionate words are anything more than sweet nothings.”

Asmo turned to MC, who was now backed against the wall, their hand covering their face, but doing nothing to hide their sobs.

Asmo rarely becomes as enraged as he did at that moment. He isn’t one to not get angry, but true rage from his is rare. With all the fury and power he can muster he summons a portal and forces the bogeyman through, sending it somewhere it will never return from.

With the bogeyman gone, he turns his attention to MC. He approaches them slowly, moving beside them. He isn’t sure how to proceed. His heart is aching at seeing MC so upset and he wants them to smile that beautiful smile again.

He starts to name each and every part of MC and why he loves it so much. From their nose to their toes, he doesn’t stop until MC is smiling again.

From then on he showers them with affection and love. Every morning starts with a compliment and a loving kiss, and he always makes sure MC knows he couldn’t live without them.

Beelzebub

Beel enters the room first, wanting to shield MC from anything the bogeyman might decide to do. He’ll gladly endure whichever one of his fears the creatures summons if it means MC stays safe.

Despite his effort, as the bogeyman warps its form, what appears is him in his demon form. This form is angry, its stomach loudly growling also drowning out the angry words being spoken by the creature.

“WHY DID YOU EAT MY PUDDING, MC? THAT WAS MY PUDDING AND YOU’VE GONE AND EATEN IT. NOW WHAT AM I SUPPOSE TO EAT?!?”

As the creature screamed and shouted the sounds of shattering plates and crumbling brick echoed around, though nothing in the room was touched.

MC was terrified, backing away until their back touched the wall, too overtaken with fear to move any further.

Not wanting MC to suffer any longer Beel focused on banishing the creature. Focusing his power, the creating began losing shape. It fought him, but eventually, it faded from sight, banished back to where it had come from.

After the bogeyman is defeated, Beel approached MC. They’ve calmed down now the bogeyman is gone, but it has affected them. He apologises for allowing his hunger to overtake him so much that it caused them to fear him so much.

He gently hugs them, promising he’ll do whatever he can to help them overcome their fear and to never let his hunger overtake him so badly again, two promises he seals with a kiss.

Belphegor

Deep down Belphie knows what he’ll see if the bogeyman targets him and shows him his greatest fear. But he doesn’t want to admit it. The reality of admitting it is too much for him.

He accompanies MC regardless. He knows that together they can overcome whatever is waiting for them.

But Belphie didn’t fully realise exactly what the bogeyman would become. It began to take shape the moment the door shut behind them, forming into him in his demon form, fresh blood dripping from his hands and tail and splattered all over his clothing.

“Guess you are just a stupid human, huh? Falling for my silly trick you deserve to suffer and die like this.”

MC is petrified, begging him to not hurt them. It was MC’s fear that inadvertently spurred on their magic, banishing the creature without them realising.

With the bogeyman gone, Belphie could only stare at MC. He didn’t realise how much what he had done hurt them, and now that he did, he feared no matter what he did he would only make it worse.

Everyone waiting outside bursts through the door after hearing MC’s cries, and goes over to comfort them. Belphie decides to leave and return to the mansion and begins avoiding MC, thinking it better he stayed away.

It takes MC approaching him with Beel for him to talk with him, rather than leave the room. They talk and both agree to work together and heal so they can move forward, starting their journey with a hug and a kiss.

[thephantomessoftheopera]

Notes on Gaston Leroux‘s „The Phantom of the Opera“ - Chapter 27: „End of the Ghost‘s Love Story“

Artwork by @flaviamarquesart

<< Previous chapter

“End of the Ghost’s Love Story” is the most powerful chapter in the novel, because it reveals the full extent of Erik’s love for Christine. It is also the one that makes the story truly extraordinary, because it redeems his character and lifts him above the level of a gothic villain, who is usually defeated and punished in the end. This is why he is generally considered a “Byronic Hero” (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Byronic_hero). The Byronic hero is a complex, often tragic form of romantic anti-hero who is generally more villain than traditional hero, but who has at least one redeeming quality (usually connected to love) which makes him a sympathetic figure despite his flaws and/or crimes. The character type was created by the English poet Lord Byron in his works such as “The Corsair” and “Don Juan”, and became extremely popular in the 19th century. Except for his looks, Erik fits that classic character type in almost all other aspects (highly intelligent, tortured, violent, ruthless, manipulative and driven by an all-consuming passion).

The chapter’s title also makes it clear that the whole thing is a love story at its core - everything in the novel happened because Erik fell in love with Christine. It is, and has always been, the story of Erik’s love - he is the one character we follow up until the end.

The final chapter is narrated by Leroux again, but it draws on what the Persian supposedly told him when he went to visit him in his flat in the rue de Rivoli. When the Persian wakes up after losing consciousness in the water, he and Raoul are resting in the Louis-Philippe room, and Erik and Christine are taking care of them. Raoul has already woken up before the Persian, and is now asleep again.

The room itself astounds the Persian in how ordinary and old-fashioned it looks, and how much it contrasts with Erik’s general appearance (remember that the Persian had never been in Erik’s house before). Erik explains to him that the furniture once belonged to his mother, which explains why the style is so different from his bedroom, which is decidedly more „Erik“. The Persian also wonders why Christine, who is moving silently through the room and then sitting down beside the fireplace, ignores both Raoul and himself when tries to call her. The Persian believes that Christine is reading “The Imitation of Christ”, which is significant and which I will come back to a little later. The “opposites” theme is also present in this scene again, describing Erik’s figure as black and a demon, and Christine’s as white and an angel. The Persian finally falls asleep again.

When he wakes for the second time, Erik has already delivered him back to his flat according to the promise he made to “his wife”. The Persian immediately sends to find out what happened to Raoul, and learns that Raoul has disappeared and that Philippe’s body has been found on the shore of the lake under the opera house. The Persian has no doubt that Philippe was drowned by Erik (or “the siren”), and decides to denounce him to the police. However, his testimony is ridiculed, and he - like Raoul - is taken for a lunatic. The Persian then decides to write everything down and later hands his manuscript to Leroux (which is what we’ve been reading in these last chapters).

When he has finished writing his account down, Erik comes to visit him. He is clearly unwell and described as weak, leaning against the wall and “pale as a sheet”. The Persian accuses him of murdering Philippe and wants to know what happened to Raoul and Christine, whether they are dead or alive. Erik denies murdering Philippe, but the Persian doesn’t believe him. We don’t really know the truth though, so the “murder mystery” has no definite resolution and turns into more of a side note.

Erik tells the Persian that he is about to “die of love” for Christine. As I’ve mentioned before, I believe that the most likely physical cause of his death would really be the gunshot that Raoul fired at him, and a possible infection following that injury which would lead to his precarious state of health as seen in this chapter. This could metaphorically also be described as “dying of love” (because he wouldn’t have caught that bullet if he hadn’t been in love).

After turning the scorpion, Christine begged him to save Raoul, and she had already offered before to accept his proposal if he gave her the key to the torture chamber, but Erik did not care then, because he did not believe her. But when she swears to him that she will become his “living wife”, it‘s different as he finally sees in her eyes what he has been hoping to see - Christine’s genuine commitment. She means to go through with her promise and is accepting him as her husband at that moment - and this is why her commitment is powerful enough to break through to him.

According to their agreement, Erik takes the Persian aboveground, but since Raoul probably wouldn’t agree to leave, Erik drugs him and locks him up in the dungeon beneath the fifth cellar. Then he returns to Christine, who stands calmly waiting for him. Erik suddenly feels “shyer than a little child” as he approaches Christine, but she does not back away from him. He tenderly kisses her forehead and is overwhelmed with how good it feels to kiss her, as no woman has ever allowed him to, not even his mother. Christine even leans into his touch a little, and remains close to him after the kiss, „as if it were perfectly natural“.

Fear and disgust are very powerful, primal emotions, but Christine‘s feelings for Erik are strong enough to overcome both. Considering that no one, not even the Persian, was able to even look at Erik’s face without horror, I feel that Christine must have cared very deeply for him, as she allows his kiss without fear and without recoiling from him at all, even after everything he has put her through.

He falls at her feet and starts crying of happiness, and seeing his tears, Christine starts to cry as well. Erik tears off his mask so that he won’t lose any of her tears on his skin, and still Christine shows no sign of horror or disgust. And she doesn’t only allow him to touch her, but she also touches him of her own free will and takes his hand, saying “poor, unhappy Erik”. I feel that this is the moment when the full expanse of his life’s tragedy truly hits her. She is not only the first woman, but the first person in his entire life to treat him with tenderness and acceptance.

Gratitude and love for her overwhelm him and make him realize that he has forced her choice. He puts the gold wedding ring into her hand, setting her free and telling her that he knows she loves Raoul and that she is free to go and marry him whenever she pleases. He „calmly cuts his heart to pieces“ and puts her happiness before his own in this final expression of true love and sacrifice. For as damaged as he was, the ending proves that Erik truly loved Christine because his love is ultimately selfless. There is also no bitterness in his feelings towards Christine after she leaves - he has always loved her, and still continues to love her. He still feels protective of her: “I’d better not hear that anyone has touched a single hair on her head!” Christine gave him “all the happiness in the world”, and he is grateful to her for this gift. His love for her redeems him as a character and proves to be his moral compass - before, he considered himself “outside the human race” and therefore not bound by common moral values.

In the previous chapter, Christine is shown reading what the Persian believes to be “The Imitation of Christ”. I don’t think that is a coincidence, and I also believe that the name “Christine” was perhaps even chosen for her on purpose (she was originally named Pauline, according to Leroux’s manuscript). Christine becomes a “Christ figure” here in two ways: through her sacrifice, she saves the lives of Raoul, the Persian and everyone in the Opera. But she also offers acceptance and love to a sinner, an outcast who has been shunned by society - and this is an extremely powerful gesture. She possessed the strength necessary to see Erik as a human being, and that is what sets her apart from everyone else. Her love here transcends the realm of romantic love and becomes almost divine - all-encompassing, forgiving, healing.

Christine may superficially fit the traditional image of a “damsel in distress”, but the would-be hero who was coming to rescue her didn’t get very far, nor could he do anything to save her. The only hero who saved Christine was Christine herself - and she also saved everyone else: Raoul, the Persian, everyone in the Opera, and Erik. Both Christine and Erik show incredible bravery in this chapter: Christine‘s bravery shows in her truly accepting Erik as a man and in saving Raoul, and Erik‘s bravery consists in letting her go, relinquishing his one chance in his life of having everything he has ever dreamed of.

Erik then goes to free Raoul and brings him to Christine, where Raoul and Christine kiss. Christine swears to Erik that she will come back to bury him with the ring, and then she finally kisses him before they leave.

Seeing Erik weeping and overcome with emotion, the Persian no longer doubts him. Erik tells the Persian that when he feels he is close to dying, he will send the letters that Christine had left with him and a few of her personal objects to him, and that this would be the cue for the Persian to put an obituary notice in the newspaper so that Christine and Raoul would know. Interestingly, that entire arrangement hinged on Erik himself announcing his death without anyone confirming it, because he could only mail things to the Persian if he was still alive. This leaves a lot of blank space for the reader’s imagination, because who knows if he really died…? The Persian, at least, never saw him again, but announced three weeks later that “Erik is dead”.

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