#demonic summoning

Seto got drunk and stole a book, then decided to say one of the spells containted within aloud. The after math was not what he expected. They were just words. Just ink on a page. It wasn’t as if they could actually summon something. Magic wasn’t real. 

Seto repeated this to himself as he stared up at the demon he’d drunkenly summoned from an old book he’d stolen on a whim from his place on the floor. 

The demon’s eyes were a glowing red, like light streaming through stained glass, surrounded by a black sclera. His hair was a spiky black mass that faded into red and lighting bolt shaped horns sprouted from his forehead at the hairline. Some stood up against his hair. Some bend downwards to frame his face. 

The arms resembled sticks that had been stuck into a flame. The cracked charcoal pulsed with and inner golden light and reached all the way to his biceps. The leathery, bat like wings settled against his back had red scales that highlighted the hand shaped bones of the wings. 

The rest of the demon was very human and very male. 

“This is a dream.” Seto told himself unaware he was speaking out loud. “I stole the book and passed out. Now I’m having a dream and when I wake up I will have the weirdest boner.” 

The demon sighed and turned to Seto and placed his hands on his fine boned hips. “Little mage if you wish to fool yourself into thinking this is a dream that is none of my affair. If you wish it to be that kind of dream, we must discuss details first.” 

“Great. I summoned a prostitute demon.” Seto grumbled before he could stop himself. To his surprise that made the demon laugh so hard he clutched his stomach. Seto watched him laugh and swore he would never touch alcohol again as long as he lived.

The demon wiped a tear from his eye and straightened himself up. “Oh little mage. I am many things but I have never sold my body for the things I desire. I have given those I desire the privilege of its pleasures, but never sold it.” 

The demon walked up and squatted in front of Seto. “Now, what is it you desire? Wealth, power, fame? For the right price I can grant you anything.” 

“Are you sure you’re not a prostitute? You sure as hell sound like one.” Seto asked. 

The black and red eyes narrowed and one of the strange hands shot out and wrapped around his throat. The creature stood and hauled Seto above his head to dangle as he squeezed his throat to cut off Seto’s air. 

“I was indulging an amateur such as you because I found you amusing. Do not try my patience or I will end your life here.”  he growled and tossed Seto to the ground. 

Seto gasped for air and check his throat for any cuts. His embarrassment at being called an armature made his traitorous mouth runaway with him again. “How...what makes you think I’m an amature?” 

The creature rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Only someone who knows little or nothing of magic would summon a demon, whose name they do not know, with zero protections against harm. My amusement is over and my interest is waning human. I will ask you this one last time, and if you have no answer for me I will take my leave of you: what is it that you desire?” 

Seto stood and faced the inhuman thing. “I can get what I desire without your help.” he spat. 

“I see. Is that why you got drunk and summoned a demon?” 

The words were like a stab in the gut. Seto locked his angry gaze with the amused one of the demon’s. 

Charcoal hands reached out and cupped his face. “So, you wish for the power to make your dreams into reality. I can grant you that.” 

The sudden change in demeanor caught Seto off guard and he asked “How?” 

The demon grinned in a way Seto would have called fond in anyone else “I will give you my mark. I will be your patron and you will be my warlock for a year and a day. In exchange for you being able to use my power as your own, you will grant me a place here in the human world where I may live comfortably as I walk among your kind. At the end of our time you may choose to renew our deal or send me back from where you summoned me. Sound like a bargain?” 

What the hell, this was a dream anyways. May as well be bold. “I have one condition. If I find your power unsatisfactory you leave me.” 

Sharp fangs were revealed as the demon grinned “Tell you what, I’ll give you three months to decide whether or not this deal is worth it. If you find the power granted to you to be all that I promise you have to seal the deal with a kiss and the place I will live for the entire time you will have me is by your side. Are we agreed?” 

Seto nodded “Yes.” 

One hand dropped down to rest over Seto’s heart. Claws dug into skin drawing blood and before Seto could protest Atem was writing a symbol over his own chest in Seto’s blood. A name flooded Seto’s mind and he knew it belongs to the demon

Atem

“That name is special.” the demon told him as he grabbed Seto’s left wrist and hauled his arm up to use two of his unbloodied fingers to draw another symbol on Seto’s forearm. A substance like soot was left where his fingers trailed. “It is for you alone to know. Do not ever say it aloud or it will kill you.” 

“Then what am I supposed to call you?” Seto asked. 

Atem shrugged and blew across the symbol on Seto’s arm “You may choose a name for me.” 

The symbol flared bright gold and Seto felt like molten metal was flowing from it through his blood to fill his entire body. Seto shouted the first name he could think as pain blinded him. 

“Yami!” 

Atem, now Yami, caught Seto as he passed out from received his power. The demon lifted Seto into his arms in a bridal carry as his body slowly shifted to the appearance of a normal human about Seto’s age and racial descent. He sniffed at Seto’s neck and smiled as the scent confirmed his guess. 

There were only two souls in all of creation who could have summoned him from his prison. One he now held in his arms and would carry back to his home. 

The Evocation of Demons is what the Grimoire DEMONISM shall be built upon, when practiced devoid of elaborate Ceremonial Ritual and the merging and Communion is performed through a primal form of summoning on a natural level there is no Magick more Powerful!

AO3 For the Gravity Falls @transcendence-au -- this is probably not a good starter fic if you’re not familiar with this. Go to the blog linked here and look at their “summary” tab to get started on this fantastic AU!

Summary:

Holidays aren't always easy. Families aren't always as accepting as they should be. Dipper receives a summons on Christmas from someone who needs to go home and get away from their family.

Warning for discussion of aphobia. Also warning for demonic summoning, which is completely normal for this AU.

Christmas day tended to be a rather low-traffic day for summoning, which was fine by Dipper. Sure, he got the occasional request to un-cook an overcooked meal or to help with a really, really last-minute gift need, but he usually only had two or three small requests for the entire day. Apparently, even most cultists took a day off for Christmas. Who knew?

So, Dipper was minding his own business (currently between Mizar incarnations and not particularly close with any niblings… so he had the day to himself, really) when a summons that felt distinctly desperate came in – not “I burned the turkey” desperate or “I forgot to get Aunt Matilda a gift” desperate; rather, some honest-to-goodness “I’m about to die” kind of desperate. Dipper hesitated, but his curiosity won out, so he warily answered the summons by simply popping into the air above the circle, skipping most of his usual theatrics. “Who dares summon Alcor the Dreambender,” he said mechanically, more as a tagline than an actual question.

The figure in front of Alcor blinked in surprise, looking unnerved at the lack of theatrics. They were pretty short, but they looked to be about twenty years old. “Um… hi. My name is… um… wait, do chosen names count as True Names? No, no, that’s a stupid question to ask a demon. Um…”

“I don’t need your name,” Dipper said dismissively. “I just need to know what you want from me. Why are you summoning a demon on Christmas day, exactly?”

“I… need to get home. Now.” They looked up at Dipper, making eye contact with him. Their brown eyes held Dipper’s gaze steadily despite how much Dipper’s eyes usually unnerved mortals.

I mean you could do things the hard way if you really wanted to. Here’s my parody on 1950s ads with a twist. He'll Never Know Your Secret... By @egregoredesign Available here