#chernabog

You are the sole child of Chernabog; the King of Bald Mountain, Controller of Demons.

Your birth alone brought about waves of fears

upon the world. The religious naysayers that already feared him hunted you down.

So you and your mother went into hiding, away from the loonies of that variety as well as those that desired to use you for their self-serving machinations.

Because you're half demon, you age much more slowly than mortals. Which was why when your mother was on her death bed that night, you were physically a teenager but your biological age was nearly a century old. The moment she passed away, you already felt your father reaching out through your infernal bond.

Your dormant monster side is only brought forth amidst emergencies or such intense emotions. And thus, your true nature was suppressed from the unaware public masses. Hiding away in seclusion, just you and her, until it was only you in that now lonely cottage.

Yet as you pictured his imposing presence in the far off distance on that eerie foggy night, the double horse black carriage carrying the coffin came out of left field and struck you head on.

The moment you awaken from the coffin at your orientation ceremony at Night Raven College results in your fellow freshmen and senpai tensing up at your already strong magical presence.

Despite your soft features and demure presence, the aura of corruption hung over you. Your eyes glinted with the promise of mystery.

They're all, initially, intimidated by you. Although these prideful mages in training wouldn't let their true faces nor feelings show that much. Some more so than others …

Despite that, your soul didn't align with the other dorms, despite your magical potential. Much like the prefect — prefects actually. There's a few of them.

And so, you were placed in Ramshackle Dorm with them and their dire beast companion Grim.

The ghostly residents flocked to you immediately, retaining your father's ability of attracting the spiritual variety.

Preferring this over being on your own for the first time in your existence or even staying with the literal embodiment of evil himself, you chose to give this arcane boarding school a chance.

And so, you, Y/n L/n, became a freshman at NRC.

Expanding your mind and knowledge about this new world that you were brought into on your first year here.

Becoming close with your fellow schoolmates, mending the scar left upon your beastly heart, leaving your own mark on them, bringing forth their deepest darkest desires.

You had yet to show any of them your suppressed nature, your true form, horrified at the potential cataclysmic chain reaction that would be set off should the time ever come. Until then, you would appreciate your chaotically enjoyable school life for as long as it lasts.

You are having. A TERRIBLE day.

Your sock twists wetly on your foot, hiking boot long lost to a nasty little crevice some miles back, as you desperately scan the landscape for ANY clue as to where you took a wrong turn. Your car and hotel room may as well be on the fucking moon for all you can make out though the encroaching dark and biting wind.

Go on holiday they said. ‘Enjoy some nature’ they said. You kick a pebble down the nearest pitch black canyon and frantically try not to think about how long it would take for a search team to find your body if you followed it.

Maybe they could follow your scream as something plucks you from the ground and swings you skywards instead.

You’re adorably tiny, so easy to spook, he could just lovingly press the pad of his finger to your chest and watch as your ribcage cracks like an antshell...

Night swings between flashes of a grinning maw and eyes like radioactive pits of poison as you scream and scramble helplessly for freedom. Caught in monstrous hands like a bug before its pinned to the board-

So weak under the weight of a living body. Hardly the hedonistic frolicking of spirits that normally cling to his fingers. A cute little grub…

Blood pulses in your ears as you dig your horribly blunt fingernails into the hot leather of his thumb, feeling him chuckle like the rumble of an earthquake as he tilts you ever so slowly to dangle over the scorching heat below. You squeal as he ‘almost’ drops you, squeezing your eyes shut in your best impression of a limpet as he sighs in amusement and tilts his hand level again.

Warm and soft. The poor things little heart thumping under his thumb. Idly, he strokes up and down your spine, finding the supple heat pleasing.

Breath after breath is pressed out of you as the colossal fingerpad rubs awkwardly over your back, hiking up your tshirt as your bones creak a bit. It’s disturbingly gentle – but you still find yourself mentally apologising to every small creature you’ve ever petted incorrectly as you’re placed forcibly in their shoes.

Keep it? Well. For now, why not? Where else could you possibly go…

You have no idea how long you’ve spent shaking on the hot slope of this stupidly colossal palm, but you’re not dead yet. That has to count, right? That has to count for something…

Moving your head to actually look at the thing keeping hold of you is harder than anything you’ve ever done before. Witnessing the almost violent intelligence in his smug expression nearly forces you to lose your nerve.

Daylight glows from a small crack above, and his expression sours bitterly. He shuffles, you slipping along his skin with a yelp, finding yourself caged in his hands still, but pressed against a colossal pectoral muscle as he settles down to – presumably sleep?

It- it’s fine. It’s fine. You can figure this out. You can sneak out, you think. Maybe.

You can’t.