the devil came to visit me

Daddy Devil  { Teaser }

Words: 1,290

A/N: I was chatting with @bxngtxnfluffandotherstuff the other day about demon/devil!AU’s, and ended up calling Namjoon Daddy Devil. Now here we are.

Here is the teaser–aka my little build up to the main course–my dears. Hopefully the next part–the actual fic–will be up soon~ But first I have to write it ;*


Quite the interesting place. Maybe not for forsaken humans, but for demons, and beasts, and all hellish creatures alike—it’s home.

Like the layers of corrupt human society, there are levels. 7, to be exact. Each level has a…guardian. A demon chosen by the Devil to make sure there’s no excessive mischief—that everyone follows their orders and stays in line.

The seventh level is the worst. For the scum, the insane—home to the monsters that even the Devil himself can’t match. Such monsters remain trapped in the 7th level, the appointed guardian—Yoongi—only present to make sure the door that traps them remains locked tight. He’s the strongest of the Devil’s guardians, but also the laziest, and therefore the job fits him perfectly.

The remaining 6 levels are free to interact—but you live where you live. Prolonged stay in one level will get you kicked back into your assigned one, because you can’t betray your human sins, and the Devil picks a new spawn’s home with astute scrutiny. And he is not wrong—for he is the Devil.

The sixth level is guarded by Taehyung—mischievous in his own right, but undeniably dangerous. People have learned not to trust his handsome face, because despite his boyish wonder, he is a snake.

The fifth level is kept tidy by Jin—a man with the features of an angel, but the strength of an inferno. And the fourth level is carefully watched by Hoseok—and friend to the Devil and a friend to many, but his blinding smile is all a ploy. It’s said he decapitated a man whilst gigging, but that anyone around to witness the scene had met the Grim Reaper a second time.

The third level is overlooked by the youngest of the guardians—Jungkook. The innocent looking boy had met criticism from the long-term residents of the level—his image not living up to their dark-hearted tastes—but after a few years to mature and establish his power, those who opposed him soon learned that beneath his cute smile laid miles of muscle and strength—enough to send a man flying and to break a bone with little effort.

The second level is guarded by Jimin—pleasant, yet deceptive. He is loved by all and praised as a rightful guardian, but when push comes to shove Jimin always manages to reestablish order—whether he does so through violent methods or otherwise. Luckily, the second level is a peaceful realm, as is the third, and neither Jungkook nor Jimin are forced to show their true strength too often.

The final level—the first—is under watch by the Devil himself. There is no violence—no disobeying of orders. The fear of punishment is too high. Most residents are trusted generals, innocent pawns that missed their chance to run for the golden gates, or…servants. The Devil needs a thrown and a palace, after all—and it’s not like he’s going to take care of it himself.

And so, that’s how the hierarchy remains—at least, until someone manages to strip the Devil of his thorny crown. But god knows that won’t happen anytime soon.

Jungkook is performing his usual nightly rounds when he hears it—a slightly intoxicated statement from a female demon leaning against the alley wall outside a bar. She’s with her two friends who seem worse off—but none have lost their dinners yet.

“I can’t believe you keep calling Him that,” one says, and you roll your eyes.

“What? Daddy Devil? Oh give me a break, he’s the lord of all demons—of course he’s Daddy material.”

Jungkook clasps a hand over his mouth, stifling his laughter, and hurries to hide behind the chimney spout when the girl currently referring to his Lord and friend as ‘Daddy Devil’ narrows her eyes and begins looking around. Luckily, Jungkook is quick enough to evade her suspicious glare.

“For all you know he’s an old man with red skin and devil horns.”

You roll your eyes. “I know he’s not. I saw him in passing—once. When he came to the third level for a visit. He’s…tall…”

“And being tall makes him daddy material?!” your friend laughs, and you sigh, waving your hand in the air.

“Whatever. He’ll never know I said it anyway, so let’s just drop it. You can keep thinking he’s an old man, and I’ll keep dreaming that he’s tall and handsome.”

At that, all three girls share a laugh and begin to stumble out of the alley—leaning on each other for support. Jungkook watches them go, his lips split into a playful grin, a hint of impishness sparkling in his dark eyes.

He’ll never know I said it anyway.

Jungkook laughs. “We’ll see about that.” After all, this is just too funny of an opportunity to pass up.

On that note, Jungkook hops down from the roof and disappears into the evening shadows.

Jungkook doesn’t bother using the front door to the Devil’s mansion. That would require him to bypass the guards and be questioned on his intention in being here—and that’s all too much of a hassle. So, he hops up to a second story window and MacGyvers his way in—smiling once his feet touch the dark tile floor.

Whistling his way up the hall, Jungkook starts towards his Lord’s private quarters, but then pauses. This late in the evening, maybe he’d better check the Play Room.

Diverging from his path slightly, Jungkook slides down the banister to the main floor and approaches the thickly lined double doors in front of him. From his standpoint, everything is silent—no sound managing to slip from the room—but the minute Jungkook opens the door a sliver wanton moans and screams flood the hall.


“What are you doing here?” A low voice asks, a hand reaching past Jungkook and grabbing the door handle tightly. Jungkook manages to see one woman choking on cock and another in the reverse cowboy position before the door shuts in his face.

“I came to see you, hyung,” Jungkook replies, grinning, and he turns to find the Devil sighing and walking away from him. Laughing, he steps forward and launches himself onto the Devil’s back, wrapping his arms around the male’s neck tightly, his cheek resting against his shoulder.

“Namjoon hyung~ C’mon~!”

“It’s too late for this, Kookie,” Namjoon sighs, Jungkook’s weight not impairing his long strides in the least. “You should go back to your level and sleep.”

“But hyung, I came because I heard something interesting. Concerning you.”

At that, Namjoon’s interest perks a little.

“Good or bad?”

“Knowing you, I think you’ll like it,” Jungkook snickers, slipping from his hyung’s back. Namjoon cards a hand through his hair, watching his youngest guardian as he leisurely floats in the air in front of him.

“I should have never granted you flight.”

“It’s fun, you should try it sometime,” Jungkook grins in response, and then gets back on topic. “I was doing my rounds earlier when I heard a girl mention you outside a bar. Her nickname for you was quite interesting.”

Namjoon raises an eyebrow, and Jungkook can see the curiosity slip into his gaze.

“Do tell.”

Daddy Devil,” Jungkook whispers, snickering when he sees a chill run up Namjoon’s spine, the elder’s body turning to ice almost immediately. The hall sits in silence for a good five seconds before finally Namjoon releases a shaky breath and rolls his shoulder, the bones cracking as he turns on his heel and starts for his quarters.

Jungkook is licking his lips happily before Namjoon even gives him the order.

Bring her to me.”

|  [Dominance] –>

“When I returned to Ted, he held a letter against the glass that he had written to me and Jim, thanking us for our representation. "I hope you liked me.” it said. “I hope this wasn’t just an unpleasant legal chore for you.” His note ended with, “I feel close to you now.” Because he was not permitted to pass anything to us at the time, the letter eventually went to Diana - along with his remains. 

At nine o'clock I rose to leave. To my amazement, I was propelled against the glass to kiss and hug Ted, as best we could. I didn’t know how I got there; it was a force from within, beyond my control. I left him alone with Diana for a final good-bye and walked out the door. I burst into tears and was surrounded by the waiting arms of Sergeant Cronoauer. I hadn’t cried in years. Ted’s aloneness, the final cruelty of not allowing him a personal visit with Diana, his closest friend, and the utter finality of our meeting welled up in me like a fireball and burst. I sobbed like never, ever before. When Diana came out, we cried together.“ - Ted and Polly’s last meeting on January 23, 1989.

Blacking out on acid: "THE EXPERIENCE"

So last Saturday night, I took 2 hits acid after work. I did it with some new friends at a house I’d never been to. My friend Allison from work took some with me for her first time that night. The first 4 hours were amazing. We just chilled in the living room, staring at the ceiling and laughing while the others drank booze in the kitchen.

Mid-trip, my other friend informed me that some guys were going to come over. Which is not cool with me. Not when I’m tripping balls. They showed up, and I thought, “Whatever, big deal. I’ll just stay away from them.” And I did, but that didn’t stop my discomfort. Soon after they showed up is when I blacked out. I remember bits and pieces, but most of the night I only know because of what my friends told me. We were in the kitchen when I started screaming, “We gotta get out of here! We gotta get out of here!” which I faintly remember. Apparently there was a trashed white girl there who puked all over her chest and was trying to hug people. Fuck that. So I tried to get out of the house, furiously pushing people out of my way; including the angry mother who lived there. She threatened to kick my ass, so did her daughter. And then they kicked me out of the house, into the cold.

So I ran down the street screaming at the top of my lungs with no shoes or a jacket. I remember my throat hurting. I became panic. Keep in mind that I am 30 minutes away from my home and it is about 5 a.m. So, like drunk idiots, they had the guys at the party go find me. Guys that I do not even know the names of. Which I’m highly upset about because who knows what those guys did to me. But to my current knowledge, they found me and dropped me off on 9th Street like a stray cat. I fucking hate people. Then my friends came to find me. They searched for me for an hour before they found me in a back alley. I tried to run from them when they drove by. After they got me in the car, I was screaming and flailing my arms and hitting myself in the face. I was speaking gibberish and tried hitting people and taking my clothes off. No recollection of that. They had no choice but to take me to the hospital. Doctors strapped me down to a bed and took my clothes off to put me in a hospital gown. They stuck needles in me, too. I remember the doctors faces a little. I remember a heavy man with a beard asking “what’d you take?” I say, “Acid, heroin.” I didn’t take heroin. I think I wanted heroin so I could calm down, though I’ve never tried it. I remember repeating words like “red”, “blue,” “Allison,” “Matt,” “Eugene,” “heroin,” “tampon,” “Cody,” “Mike,” “eyebrows,” “Camy,” “needles,” “Alorica,” “purecell,” “Nikki Minaj,” “booty,” over and over and over. I kept saying, “What’s up?” and “I don’t have the time or the money.” I remember all of this pretty well.

Still tripping, I remember thinking that my life was a test. And that taking acid that night instead of going home to my boyfriend, Eugene, was a mistake that ended my life at 18. It was aliens that were God and the devil, though. I was their test subject, all humans were. My mother was the alien of death. She sat by my side at the hospital while Teen Titens Go played on tv. I hate that show. The clock on the wall was melting, indicating that my time was almost up. It felt as though I had been there for years. Familiar faces came to visit me, then soon never returned. I’d say calmly, “It’s my time to die. Let me die.” I turned old. I felt my cheeks, and my skin had become saggy and wrinkly. Very soon, nobody visited. Only the alien of death remained by my hospital bed. I looked at her and asked, “Where is Eugene?” And in a monotone voice, she answered, “He’s at work.” To my psychadelic mind, that meant that I had died and he lived on. Somewhere inside, I believed that he would have no recollection of me. Like a dying, old relative, I was to be easily forgotten. So I laid there and experienced death. Now in a slightly different hospital setting, a doctor came by and gave me three pills. He started talking to my mother about things I am insecure about. “Has she always had that lazy eye?” “Did you say she had bipolar disorder?” “What medicine does she take?” “Did she graduate high school?” The alien said, “She dropped out.” Doc said, “GED?” “She’s working on it.” Oh, thats right. I gave up on my GED. How embarrassing. I was ashamed. It was then that I realized that I had slipped into Hell. Hell was being tied down to a hospital bed with needles in my arms. Hell was them having discussions about all of my insecurities while I lay catatonic. Hell was never seeing the people I love again. Hell was knowing my life was a waste. Hell was realizing that my existence was no greater than that of a lab rat. All I wanted was to sleep, but I was unable to. They took that luxury away from me completely. I could only close my eyes. The alien of death came over to me, gave me a phone, and said, “It’s Eugene.” I listened to him talk to me, knowing it would be the last time I’d hear his voice. But from the sound of it, it was just a recording made to mock me. “Why didn’t I just go home to him?” Regret swallowed me whole. I turned my head away in a desperate attempt to sleep. This was it. This was now my life. Unable to die, unable to move, or sleep in the very depths of Hell. Hell isn’t fire and burning flesh. Hell is your biggest fears laughing in your face. It was eerie in such a real way. I “woke up” with my arms and legs strapped to the hospital bed. I was so confused as to why I couldn’t remember the rest of my awesome trip! Because at the time, I only had memory of the kelidascooe ceiling and the echoing laughter of me and Allison. At first, I wondered to myself if I had telaported to some sort of different demension. I thought, “Shit, that must have been crazy for Allison to see.” Man, this sucks! I gotta get to work on Tuesday! I’m gonna lose my job! Eugene is going to be so worried. Where is my phone? Where did my clothes go? I turned to see my mom. I smiled and said, “I just woke up here. This is a mistake.” Four doctors came in and circled me. I started cursing and yelling, “This is a mistake. I’m a teenage girl. I just woke up here. This is bullshit. I just woke up here. This is a mistake. I have an apartment to get to.” I was beyond confused. They told me I had taken some drugs and ended up in the hospital. I didn’t believe them. I did take acid, but how could that land me in the hospital? So here I am now, in some alternate demension that I feared I could never escape. How could I with restraints, an IV, and a catheter holding me hostage to this bed? I convinced myself that my mother was a clone and that I really was in Hell after all. She tried to talk to me, but I didn’t trust clones, so I stayed silent. Eugene eventually came to visit. He was also just a clone. I thought that the aliens did a wonderful job recreating him. He was a perfect image of my Eugene. I didn’t speak to him other than when he said, “I love you.” It was hard not saying it back. I knew that it was only a clone, so when he kissed me, it filled me with sadness. He left hours later. I was sure it would be the last I’d see of him.

So after some sleep, I got a feel of what might have happened. When I regained conciousnes, I at first thought that what little I did remember from that night was a weird acid dream. Was it real? Did that actually happen? It seemed bizarre. Did I totally blackout? I had never heard of any such thing happening to anyone. And that explains why I was so confused when I woke up. The guys at the party stole my phone and my bag. My bag has my social, drivers license, debit card, and Medicaid card. I am done with acid. Just the other day it was my favorite thing to do. I’m not going to lie and say I’m not gonna miss it. It was awesome. And I’m not going to advise people not to take it. It really is life changing. But you have to be careful. Instances like this are incredibly rare, as I can’t find too much about blacking out on the Internet. But it does happen. I dont know why, but it does. I never thought acid could truly hurt me, but it did. If my friend didn’t find me, I could have died in the cold. I could have ended up in jail. I could have ended up dead due to my heart rate. Doctors say I was so distraught that I almost had a heart attack. Be careful. Acid is unpredictable. Only do it in a definite safe environment. You never know what could happen.

Starring Role

TITLE: Starring Role


AUTHOR: the-devil-herself


Imagine that, when you were only a few days old, your mother promised you to the God of mischief, when you come of age. You live years, only having learned about Norse mythology in school. Your mother finds it too difficult to talk about and postpones it until it’s too late…


NOTES/WARNINGS: Mentions of abuse, torture, and slavery. More Loki in the next chapter, but some heavy stuff is coming up so hang with me! I do have a plan. Please comment and tell me how you like it so far!!

The queen came to visit me the next day. I had barely woken up from my restless sleep when the guards shined their lights on me. The prisoners trapped down here with me were yelling and cursing all night long. I almost wished for death so I could simply rest, and the bright cells didn’t help me to sleep or relax either. I covered my eyes with my hand, glaring at my intruders, but when I saw Frigga, my lips parted in shock. She looked like a vision in gold with a kind smile on her face. I didn’t deserve her compassion, and I definitely didn’t want her pity. I considered asking the guards to send her away, but there was no way they would go against the queen’s orders.

“Hello my dear,” she said sincerely. My head was bowed in shame. I betrayed her sons, her family, and her kingdom for land. Well, I did it for family, but wasn’t Loki going to be my family now, too?

Keep reading

The Devil Came To Visit Me

Suave and devanare he approached.

Overly expensive boots clicking as he walks.

Sharp suit, black tie, red handkerchief protruding from his breast pocket.

His face handsome underneath his neatly combed charcoal hair.

Horns, smaller than I had imagined, come out of his forehead in such a way as to make a statement.

A statement like these horns will become the height of fashion, complete with overly skinny runway models sporting the faux version for an upcoming fall season.

Yes, this is how I see The Devil as he approaches, a handsome man with just a touch of stereotype.

He speaks to answer a question I had not yet asked…

“Don’t mind me, I’m just passing through.”

He grins in a way that manifests sweat upon my brow.

“But I feel I must tell you,”

He continues, his seemingly glowing eyes never losing contact with my own.

“This will not be the last you see of me.  It seems I have become accustomed to your face,”

He stops for a moment to pull out an old tin case neatly packed with cigarettes. The wear on the case tells the tale of a long owned item full of scratches, dings, and sentiment. Of this one would usually think very little, but this being The Devil, I noted it of particular interest.

He takes a long drag of his ciggarette and exhales, pausing for the smoke to clear away. I don’t remember seeing him light it.

“Comforting I guess you could call it.”

A couple more inhales, a couple more exhales. The ember glows in an unnatural way and my eyes are fixed upon it.

“You see I wonder to and fro, never with a home in which to rest my head. And it’s faces like yours that I’ve come to depend on. Faces that feel like coming home.”

He smiles again, a smile that makes me believe what he’s saying is true as he casually flicks his nub of a cigarette to the ground, never making an effort to stamp out the still glowing ember.

“I guess it’s just your lucky day kid…I’ll see you around.”

With that he walked away, the clicking of his boots echo off the walls until eventually fading away all together.

Leaving me alone with new knowledge that I could have done without. The Devil came to visit me. I knew it wouldn’t be the last time I saw him. As The Devil now calls me 


-Zach Landes


You never know when you will come across a fancy fungus. This is Devils Fingers (Clathrus archeri) a rare fungus here in Wales, so rare in fact that it may not have been formally recorded here before (still checking if this is the case). Apparently they have been introduced from New Zealand and Australia where they are native.
I came across this stunning fungus, a member of the Stinkhorn family, whilst I was out foraging for Sea Radish leaf along the Severn Estuary. The specimens I first encountered were somewhat passed their best and didn’t make for great photographs. Being a member of the Stinkhorn family these guys emerge from “eggs”, a number of which had still to hatch. Several daily visits to the site enabled me to finally see this beauty at its best and get a few decent photographs.
I think it is fair to say that I was over the moon to see Devils Fingers in the flesh, it just goes to show that fungi hunting is all about being in the right place at the right time, and sometimes that is all down to Lady Luck.