A Strong Duke of Hell

Lady of the Fourth

Cunt

:3

It was a real who is who of family reunions lately and he wasn't really looking for this one. He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms across his chest, leaning back against a wall in a (purposely) confusing mix of both guarded and casual that he'd managed to perfect over the millenia. "Gremory." The name sounded like nails on a chalkboard out of his mouth. "I'm not looking for any of your type of help. I know what Hell sells and I wasn't interested the first time. You'll have to get someone else to come to your multi-level marketing scheme party this round because I'm not listening to a sales pitch."

“I believe we’ve developed similar tastes in recent years.” For certain values of recent. “Your skill for torment, however, is all your own. I prefer working with pleasure myself, but you’ve quite the talent for terror. A shame to see it wasted.”

𝐖𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐎 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐄

Apocalypse Logic, Elissa Washuta

// Duke Gremory. There is a significantly less than zero-percent chance it would ever happen, for so many reasons, much less any likelihood that he'd survive the encounter (not to mention he'd fall on a celestial blade before admitting to it), but if all the hypotheticals lined up he'd be down. What a way to go.

Like, the reason so many fantasy magicians talk about magic like it's math, is because that's straight up how many actual historical magicians talked.

imagine being a demon and youre fucking called gremory. it sounds like one of thsode fucking super famicom baseball names. uh oh girles we summoned Gremory. id go the nitnh circle and beg satan to turn me into a popscile so i didnt have to deal with it